#Pls put a hanged man up on ur window | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

poemsforparker · 2 years ago

Note

matt murdock pls where his wife is like a rival vigilante (they don’t know about each other) and one time he beats her up really badly in a fight and then her ring falls off and he realises and it gets really angsty but then it ends in fluff.. tyyy

double (couple) life - matt murdock 16+

(not my gif) | marvel masterlist

pairing: matthew murdock (daredevil) × f!reader

warnings: angst, past trauma, death, grief, weapons, blood, violence description

a/n: I know in practice Matt would probably know in the blink of an eye who you were though smell, voice and all that but let’s just ignore all that here and come with me. Thank you anon for trusting I’d do a good job with ur idea <3 I’m sorry I took so long, I suck.

"When the sun sets, we're both the same" - Beautiful Crime

It has always been like that.

You didn't ask to many questions. And neither did he.

All those marks covering your bodies, bruises that were abnormally deep and constant for regular citizens, even at the constant chaos state of New York city.

A part of you knew, both of you knew, really, that you had a darker side you didn't let anyone else see, not even your most trusted ones. You were too afraid of judgement, too afraid to hurt those you loved the most.

You unconsciously accepted that part of each other, even not knowing fully what it meant but you loved each other fully, deeply and hopelessly. You couldn't see a life without Matthew and he couldn't see a life without you.

This was a common afternoon at Nelson, Murdock & Page's office, you dropped by to bring your husband his lunch, hearing small talk as you entered the room.

"She's not that bad." You listen to Karen state about whoever was the conversation subject.

"They found more bodies in the same M.O, Karen, the scenes left behind are not pretty to see... she's dark." Foggy completes.

"Yeah, might be. But the man she killed were disgusting so I kinda could see it coming."

"Karen." Foggy's tone was reprehensible.

"What? It's true."

You enter the room and they both turn your way, Karen smiles warmly welcoming you in. "He said he went to bring lunch for you today." She laughs at how clingy you both were, having the same idea in the same day.

"No way." You laugh along with her. "You think I should wait for him to come?" As the words out your mouth you hear your phone ring. Matt's nickname showing up on the screen.

"I can't believe we had the same idea." You could hear he was smiling even though the phone.

"It seems like it, Matty."

"Don't get out, I'll be there in a sec. Love you."

"I love you too. See ya." You hang up and wait for him, entering the conversation Karen and Foggy were having the second you came into the office. They were sharing opinions on the new vigilante in town.

You.

You shift your weight on your feet, nervous about where was the subject going and wanting nothing more that Matt walking in that door to give that discomfort an end.

"What do you think."

"Huh?" You blink confused after zoning out for what seemed like minutes.

"Do you think she's fair?"

"I-I-" You clean your throat "I mean she only kills bad man, right? Rapist, murderers. If you ask me, they deserve it." You shrug nervously.

Karen nods in agreement and Foggy seems to rather stay shut. You hear the creek of the door open and smile widely at the sight of the man in a suit. He always would look breathtaking for you. "Hey, love."

Matt smiles widely while opening his arms for a hug that you gladly welcome in. Drunk on his scent. He grabs your hand once you are apart and runs his fingers over the ring he had the pleasure to put on your hand months ago. It was a habit he unconsciously got since you made it official. As if feeling that ring on your hand reassured him that you were his and he was yours. He could remember the day of the proposal like it was yesterday, he felt like the happiest man alive.

...

You waited a few hours past dusk to sneak out the apartment window. Your suit was not as nearly well planned as Matt’s. If someone got the opportunity to see it from up close - which is why you avoided that type of contact - they’d easily notice how fragile it really was.

That wasn’t the only thing could readily set you apart from the Devil Of Hell’s Kitchen. When in your regular life you were the so called soulmates. Here, in the nights, suits on and starving for a fight, you were total opposites. You didn’t care if it came to a kill, in fact, your very purpose was killing.

Meanwhile Matthew, as the devoted catholic he was, felt in no position to judge who lived and who died, rather they deserve it or not, you did not give it much of a thought.

You never had really came to a day you had to confront Daredevil face to face, you didn’t normally bump into each other because, if you’re going to be honest, he scared the hell out of you. However, he’d warned you before if your killings kept on going, he’d “have to do something about it”, which you politely ignored and kept on going.

Now standing on top of a building, eyes on your target and sniper in hands, his voice played over and over in your head, disturbingly familiar and low. You take your eyes out the leans and turn your neck to check the rooftop behind you. Something felt wrong.

“Hello?” You ask. Frozen on your spot. Huffing when looking back in realization you’d lost your target you keep on looking for him when you feel the same freeze on your spine, but this time stronger. Someone was definitely here with you.

By the corner of your eye you see him. Devil Of Hell’s Kitchen, he wore a black suit, also visibly fragile just like yours, for a second you wonder why wasn’t he wearing his regular one. The black stripe on his head somehow made him even scarier.

“I warned you to stop.” He says in a raspy voice, still oddly familiar.

“You know I can’t do that.” Trying your best to keep your composure, you don’t even stand up to talk to him, staying in position still trying to aim your target.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

“Maybe both.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You scoff “Threatening a woman, Red? Twice now?”

“I’m going to repeat my question. Why are you doing this?”

“Ever had a sister, Red? A brother?” Now dropping your sniper angrily you get up to face him, your eyes watery. He shakes his head no.

“Yeah, well I had one. She-” You sniff before you keep on going. “She messed with the wrong people but she was a good person, she was the best and she-” You walk back to where you were standing before and point at the building in front of you. “That man, that’s my last target, I- I promise you if you’re so disturbed by this for some reason, he’s my last.”

“There’s always going to be more.”

“He got her killed and I want him down.”

“That’s not how things work.”

“Well, it is to me.”

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to stop me.” You stare where you thought might be localized his eyes though the black tissue, hoping he could see you meant what you just said.

Without warning he came forward to punch you and you dodged it hitting him on his chest. He didn't seem to flinch even a bit to your hits. The fighting was intense, you knew about his principles but fighting the man for the first time made you question if he really let people come out alive of it.

He fought like a beast. Agile. Strong. You were not as nearly as experienced as him on a 1 x 1 situation. Your deal was with weapons, mostly guns, knives maybe, but never like this, bare, nothing but your own body to strike, and surprise to no one, you were losing. And bad.

He carried your body to the collar of your suit, hitting your back at the wall, your mind was dizzy, your vision blurry and it felt like everything was twisting. You wonder for a glimpse if you'd die like this, on the rooftop of a dirty building, keeping an enormous secret from the ones you loved the most.

Your senses was definitely not at their best but you were sure you felt something fall out of your calloused hands, your ring. You think about Matt, you think of the possibility of him founding out your life ended like this. Bloody and alone. Your belly twists in disgust. What were you even doing?

The noise was not even near to alarming, a normal person might not even have noticed it, ignoring anything else around in the heat of the moment of a fight, but to Matt's ears it was cristal clear.

Not even he could tell the reason why but he leans and grabs it in his hands, the material and texture flooding him on memories and his eyes instantly going watery. It couldn't be. No.

"Y- y/n?"

You don't answer, too out of air to think anything straight, falling to the floor the second he let go of your neck. You cough and cry once you process his words. That's why the voice was familiar.

"Matt?" You ask between sobs and he pulls out his mask. The action itself hurting you way more than the physical pain you were in. God, you were a mess. "B-but, h-how, you- you are... Oh God..."

"Y/n..." He leans down to the level of your eyesight, crying as much as you were now. Thinking about the pain, in every sense, that you were feeling because of him. That along to the feeling of being betrayed as well.

His mind twisted and turned. How could he not have known? Your smell, your voice... He loved all of it, he lived for it and he swore he could recognise you anywhere.

"Can you see me?" You ask him, not sure to what point he pretended things anymore. Questioning now if what you had was even true. You were both lying to eachother, keeping things. Still, and you could say that only for yourself, your love for Matt was the most real part of your life.

"N-no. I'm- I can't."

"Okay..." You were not sure what to say. What do you say in a situation like this?

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"What you said about your sister, is that true?"

You nod, for a second forgetting he couldn't see you and leaving some seconds of awkward silence in between. "S-sorry, I- I nodded, yes it is."

"Why haven't you told me?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Touche." He grins sadly, trying to lift up your mood, if that was even possible. You were both so broken, still, you didn't seem to be able to step even a centimeter away from one another.

"Really, tho. Why?"

"I don't know..." He shrugged for the first time asking it to himself. Why?. He could have told you, he trusted you more than anyone else.

"Same." You sigh "Look, Matt, I- I'm so sorry... I haven't said anything, I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry for..." you point at the blood spots that painted several spots of the roof, most of it being probably yours but still "for all of this..."

"I'm sorry, too. I don't know what came onto me. I'm not... I'm not even normally this violent is just..." He sighs looking for answers he did not have as well. "I'm really sorry."

"You think we can fix this?" You chuckle "Start over... Maybe?" You look at him hopefully "I truly do love you, Matthew. More than anything." The last words come out harsh and quiet, your throat closing into another cry by just thinking of the possibility you'd lost him forever. The possibility his answer might simply be stand up and walk out of there. Walk out of your life.

"I love you too, y/n. So freaking much." He hugs you tightly sobbing onto your shoulders, feeling your heart race as fast as ever, he hugs you even tighter when the guilt of physically having hurt you takes him over all at once.

He knew that for that he'd never be able to forgive himself. That ran over your head as well. But not you knew one another fully. There was nothing in this world standing between you and the love of your life.

Matt slides the ring back on your hand sniffing some tears on a red stained nose - from both getting punched and crying - he kisses your forehead and snuggles you onto his arms. Now no words needed to be said in that moment. But standing there together after what you just went through. That was a silent promise you'd never leave.

#marvel #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock my beloved #matthew murdock daredevil #matthew murdock #x yn #fem reader #reader insert #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #marvel daredevil #daredevil spoilers #marvel fic #matthew my beloved #charlie cox

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sweetsweetbbq · 3 years ago

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:: TYPES OF CAKES THE AOT CHARACTERS WOULD GIVE YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY ::

———————————————————————

included: eren, mikasa, armin, sasha, connie, jean, ymir, historia, annie, reiner, berthotld, hange/hanji, levi, erwin, pieck, porco, zeke, niccolo x reader

part 1, part 2

MODERN au

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Eren -

he tried, he really did 😭

he tried following a YouTube tutorial on how to make the perfect birthday cake for your partner, but while we was baking, he realized he bought skittles instead of m&ms. so now you got a sour cake 💀. but you tell him you like it anyways so now he’s relieved!

———————————————————————

Mikasa -

our girl mikasa pulls through as always 😌

store bought but she probably drove bakery to bakery just to find a birthday cake you deserve. then when you come back home from work, she surprises you w a whole celebration. she defo invited y’alls friends to the parteyyy!!

———————————————————————

Armin -

THIS MAN 😍

get yourself a man who will panic over the smallest mistake when we works on your cake

but anyways, homemade for sure!! i can see him asking Niccolo for tips, advice, etc. he will make you a cake based on what he remembers you like. if you like flowers, he’ll put flowers on it. if you like the color green, he’ll make your cake green.

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Sasha -

sasha… 😇

she, connie and jean definitely made this together 😭 they really tried fr, thing is, they decided to wing it. they didn’t bother to watch a video or something, not even a recipe. but to your surprise the inside is HELLA good. but at the end of the day, people who ate the cake ended up with food poisoning 👍

———————————————————————

Connie -

store-bought. he requested for a chocolate cake covered with milo bits and surrounded with chocolate sticks. he wanted it to be PERFECT, and it exceeded his expectations. but he felt it was missing something. it needed a touch of connie ✨. so he added a shrek pic 💚

———————————————————————

Jean -

store bought, but will claim it is homemade just to fluster Eren and make him feel bad about the birthday cake he made for his partner.

———————————————————————

Ymir -

no cuz the SECOND i saw this pic, ymir was the first person i thought of.

homemade for sure, IT DOES TASTE GOOD THO. but i think the rest is self-explanatory.. u know what u have to do after this.. 🏃‍♀️

———————————————————————

Historia/Krista/Christa -

she will go big on you, like it’s your last birthday. LMAO JUST IGNORE THE TWENTY ONE 😭

storebought. whatever looks good to her, she shall buy. she won’t even look at the price or flavor. but they’re always perfect!! <3 along w the bday cake, she’ll make everyone make you birthday cards or else.. JAJDJWJ

———————————————————————

Annie -

annie babe… 😟

if it isn’t obvious already, it’s homemade. it’s basically saying “i love u so much pls dont ever leave me i will literally lose it if u go but i will respect ur decision if u leave me because i want you to be happy because i love you so please don’t leave me i rlly do love u” JWHDJJWJSJS

the cake is definitely something 😀 she will take it, take a bite, and chuck it out the window. she will make it up to you tho!! <3

———————————————————————

Reiner -

JJSJWJSJAJA,

when he was the doing the white icing part, he realised how umm.. not-so-good-looking the cake looked. he GAVE UP, so he just put “Eat me. I am ugly.” on it.. 😍👍

———————————————————————

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hereforhalstead · 3 years ago

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Hungry Eyes

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader 18+

• Requested: Yeeeess by my bestie @halsteadlover who always sets the bar so high and provided me with this.

reader's friend that come to visit her and Jay is jealous but nobody knows about their relationship so he can't even say anything about it and then he corners Reader when they r alone and shows her who she belongs to iykyk kwnejekwnsked i know this is a shitty idea but whit ur writing bestie it'd be ✨ chef's kiss ✨’i

• Warnings: swearing/Daddy kink/smut references

• Summary: Jay gets jealous after an old friend turns up at the district to ask you out for lunch and reminds you who you belong to.

• Words: 4218

• A/N :lysm you’re the best but pls don’t come after me if this disappoints hahah Enjoy🤭

***

You woke up with that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t like, instantly feeling sick with nerves for no explanation. You tried to start your morning as best and to routine as you could to try and push out the thoughts but nothing worked.

You made your way into the kitchen to grab some ice out of the freezer for your drink, you found yourself gazing out of the window being transfixed on cars going by. You flinched as you felt a squeeze on your sides, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay’s mischievous smile grinning back at you, a sight that would always put your mind to rest but on this day it wasn’t doing the trick.

He softly pulled on the round neck of your tshirt, exposing your shoulder to which he placed a light kiss to your skin “Everything alright?” he questioned, still stood behind you as you filled your glass. You nodded in response but you both knew this wasn’t enough for him, you span to exit the kitchen but he stood his ground to block your path.

“You wanna trying lying to me again?” he probed, gently outlining the side of you face with his fingers. You pressed your lips into his cheek but he still wouldn’t budge “Jay, I’m fine” you attempted to reassure but he simply gave a light chuckle in response.

“Baby, you know I call out people who lie for a job. Right?” You lean your head forward onto his chest and huff “Just one of those days” you mumble into his shirt and he tuts “And you couldn’t tell me that because?”.

You look up at him and roll your eyes “Because doofus, now you’ll be watching my every move when you need to be focusing on yourself” You push your finger into his chest as you speak, he flicks his eyes down onto your hand and then back up to your worried expression “We’ll be fine. Always are, I know how to look out for both of us” he leans in to place a chaste kiss to your lips but you still feel that sinking feeling wasn’t going anywhere fast.

“How do you always know what to do to make me feel better?” you tease, trying your best to ignore the wave of anxiousness overwhelming your body “It’s just as much of my job as it is to be a detective” he proudly replies and you can’t stop the smile creeping on your face “Smooth” you compliment, earning another toothy grin from your boyfriend

“Come on you, the quicker we get out of here the quicker we get home”. He slings an arm round your shoulder before stopping to pick up the drink you had previously poured yourself as he calmly reassures “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine”

***

As normal, Jay drops you off in his truck a few roads away from the district. You’d both decided it was best to keep your relationship between yourselves for the time being as god knows word spreads fast within Chicago and Voight would be less than impressed to say the least.

Seeing how he reacted to Kim and Adam served as a warning of how harsh he can be and implement punishments for the smallest of things. He often eyes the pair of you so you have an inclining he’s caught on but as far as you’re aware you’d gotten away with it so far which seemed a miracle. There’d been a few close encounters, you and Jay getting carried away in the evidence room, one acting out when the other is in danger or the most popular one being when either one of you is hit on and you can’t say a word.

Jay found this the hardest as Voight encouraged you to use your charm and sarcastic character on suspects, often helping to break their barriers and admit things they didn’t know they were admitting. This came at a cost, you openly flirting with another man in the interview room was now a regular occurrence and to Jay’s dismay he was often sat right by your side as you did so.

Most of the time you had fun with this as it never took much to get Jay jealous, a simple double take at you had him aggravated within seconds so for you to have taken on the role as ‘Intelligence flirt’ did not sit well with him. You’d considered having words with Voight about it, expressing how it made you uncomfortable but as much as sometimes you didn’t like it, it did often lead to success so you had to put your dignity to one side and do the job at hand.

It was another one of those days where you were called into the interview room as soon as you walked up the stairs, Jay handing you a paper file as he passes your desk. Just like every morning, acting like you hadn’t been in bed together just a few hours earlier or traipsing round his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt.

“He’s just your type” Kim calls out to you, smirk beaming from her face “and how do you know what my type is?” you sarcastically respond, eyebrow cocked in confidence “Believe me, I know what your type is” she is quick to reply, already back focusing on a pile of paperwork sat in front of her. You narrow your eyes at her and then cast your eyes over to Jay who is still enthralled by the thought of you.

“Will you just get in there and do you thing. We need to nail this bastard” Voight’s rough voice echos out, hurrying you to hang your coat up on the way to the interview room “Good luck” Jay announces with an amused tone “I think you’re the one who needs the luck” you hit back. He bores his eyes down to you as he leans forward to open the door with one hand and allowing you to enter the room first.

The suspect immediately slumps back in his chair as you slam the thick paper file onto the desk “Think you better sit up and pay attention sunshine, I haven’t got all day” you jest, Jay remaining stern in the seat next to you as he’s ready to play good cop bad cop. “Oh I can tell I’m gonna like you already” his eyes roam about your body but Jay is quick to harshly click in front of the mans face to distract him “Eyes up here big man”.

You conceal your laugher, not even 2 seconds in and Jay’s pissed off “Why don’t you let her do the talking pretty boy” the suspect flirts and you scoff “You’re already looking at 25 years in jail if you don’t start talking so we’ll get started if you don’t mind” you open the file in efforts to break eye contact with the suspect but Jay was still showing a disgruntled stare over the table “I’m all yours”.

***

Safe to say the interview didn’t get much better, no matter how much you leaned into him, he wasn’t saying a word. Forcing you to try and go above and beyond with the flirting technique but still nothing. You marched back into the office with Jay, him stuck at your side but staying silent when usually there would be some form of sarcastic comment but today there was nothing.

“How could you say he was my type, are you blind? He was about 50 with half a mouth of teeth and I can’t imagine the last time he showered” you call out to Kim who laughs “My idea of fun” she contests, handing you a cup of coffee “Hilarious” you comment under your breath as she returns to her desk next to you.

You were still reeling from the interview, annoyed at yourself for not getting him to break so you could charge him with more but by the sounds of it, it wasn’t his first offence so knew how to play the game and also play you. You scanned the pages in front of you, head in your hands as you sat propped with your elbows on the desk “He was just a dick who knows how to work the system, don’t let it get to you” Jay speaks as he leans on the desk next to you.

You huff and sink into your chair “Surprised you’re talking to me” you joke as Jay shrugs “Gotta do what you gotta do” he calmly admits, complete change of attitude to his normal tense and quiet self after these interviews but you still knew him well enough to know he was bluffing “Now who’s the one lying” you raise your eyebrows at him with a slight smirk across your face.

He leans down to you to speak but you hear Trudy clear her throat from behind him “Y/N, you got someone down here for you” she bitterly announces, you both turn to look at her as she spins to head back down the stairs “Did they give a name, or?” you ask after her but as per usual she was hardly in a mood to converse “Do I look like a receptionist? No” she tuts “Was cute though” you’re taken back as she adds her little comment and disappears back down the stairs.

“Well, best get myself down to this hottie then” you stand from your seat, ensuring you graze yourself along Jay as you pass “Don’t wanna keep him waiting” you quietly add so only he can hear.

He keeps his arms folded in front of his chest and watches you intently as you walk off, feeling his eyes burn into your back as you follow Trudy’s path down to the main area. Slight grin as you enjoyed winding Jay up and as much as he didn’t want to admit it he also got a kick out of it.

Him watching you think you have the dominance in the relationship truly amused him, all while knowing he could have you pinned up against a wall and struggling to find words within seconds frequently crossed his mind as he sat watching you work opposite him.

You got to the bottom of the stairs only to be met by an empty room, you look over to Trudy who is aimlessly scrolling on the computer and walk over to her desk “Where is he then?” you ask but get no response, instead she simply looks over your shoulder to the room next to the main doors.

She glimpses back over to you before returning to her work “Always so helpful Trudy, what would I do without you” you mock, tapping the desk before turning to see who had asked after you.

You didn’t even have a chance to get yourself together before he was stood in front of you, your best friend from college who you hadn’t seen in years was stood before you and Trudy was right, he was looking just as cute as he did the last time you see him all those years ago. “There she is! The hot shot detective” he exclaims before engulfing you in his arms.

It took you by surprise so took you a few seconds before you could grasp what was happening “Kyle? What are you doing here?” you pull back, leaving his arm still resting on your hip as he towered over you “My folks moved to Chicago a few weeks ago so thought I would come visit. Then remembered you worked here so made it all the more easier for me to take the trip” he happily admits as you nudge his shoulder “Still the flirt I see” you tilt you head and he nods “Can’t help it when it comes to you”.

You come to your senses that you’re still stood in the middle of the open space at the district, Trudy without a doubt ogling at you from her desk and silently judging with her scowl and condescending manner.

You take a quick sweep of the area to see if anyone else is around but it was just the two of you which made the silence even more awkward. As much as you wanted nothing more than to catch up with Kyle, this was hardly the ideal scenario as you could basically hear a pin drop and knew Trudy was listening in on every word.

You check your watch and note it was nearly 1pm which led you to the perfect excuse of leaving “Wanna grab some lunch?” he questions to which you quickly agree “Let me just grab my stuff and we can go”.

Just as you turn to head back upstairs you hear Trudy call out from behind you “Chuckles, get Y/N’s bags for her will you. She's being whisked off for lunch on a hot date” whilst still facing away you subtly shake your head and huff “I’m gonna kill her” you joke, Kyle awkwardly laughs along with you which doesn’t help with the glare Jay was sending in your direction.

“Thanks but I can get them myself, thanks though” you grimace to Trudy as you pass her desk “Won’t be long” you call back to Kyle who takes a seat on the chairs “Just text me if you need a moment before we go!” Jay shoots him a lingering glare, you nudge his shoulder to pull him from his trance with the aggravated scorn to Kyle.

You place your hand onto the scanner and feel Jay breathing down your neck from how close he is stood behind you “So you’ve got a hot date?” he whispers, so quiet that you’re sure no one else heard “Don’t start” you warn as the door buzzes and loosens to allow you to open it.

“Don’t know what you mean” Jay innocently responds, still hot on your trail as you make your way up “Jay, your jealousy is showing” you tease with a hint of smugness in your voice “I don’t get jealous baby” he takes you off guard with the pet name but you try your best to act unfazed “A lot of lying going on today, isn’t there?”.

You make your way over to your desk and rummage around in the drawers looking for the purse your usually leave in there with a few bank cards and loose change. “Who’s the hunk then Y/N?” Hailey asks from her desk on the other side of the room “It’s her boyfriend” Jay answers before you even have a chance to respond. You continue looking through your desk, rolling your eyes at his comment but grateful no one can see as you look down.

“He’s a friend from college” you correct him, shooting him a glare to which he sneers. “And he’s taking you to lunch? Lucky you” Kim adds, earning a less than impressed glance from Adam “I’m right here you know” he mocks and you laugh to yourself of the irony of Adam getting jealous when you knew Jay was sat there reeling and no one knew.

“Wait, isn’t Kyle the one who-?” Kim starts but you widen your eyes her to give her the message to stop “The one who?” Kevin probes, aware that now everyone was in on this would only add to Jay’s annoyance “He wa-” Hailey speaks up “Uh” you interrupt, admiring the joy she had flashed across her face. Adam pats Kevin on the shoulder as he passes “Girl code bro, we’ll never find out”.

“I didn’t know I was running a gossip circle? Back to it” Voight demands from the doorframe of his office. The team turn back to their work as you give up looking for your purse and decide to head to the lockers to see if you left it in there earlier in the week.

Once in the hall, alone you run your fingertips over the creases in your forehead. Partly in trying to remember where you last had your purse but also wishing Kyle hadn’t come to the district or atleast gave you some forewarning that we was in town.

That soon explains the reason for your gut feeling this morning that something wasn’t going to go right, although you were slightly relieved as it wasn’t half as bad as you expected when you first woke up and felt the anxiety swirling in your stomach but still wasn’t ideal.

You leant your head against your locker before taking a deep breath, anyone would think you were being overdramatic but with the interview the morning where you had truly pushed yourself with the flirting already leaving Jay on the back foot this was not what you had in mind for the rest of the day.

Normally, a quiet afternoon with the odd doting look and occasional private moment between the pair of you had you back in his good books but that was clearly out of the window and now with this he was just feeling worse.

You searched in your locker but still no sign, you pulled out your phone to text Kyle and was shocked you still had his number after all these years. You clicked away on your phone before a presence in front of you makes you flinch.

You look up to see Jay leaning with one arm on the locker and the other holding your purse “You can text your boyfriend to say your other boyfriend found your purse” he dangles the purse in front of you but snatches it back when you go to grab it “Jay, leave it alone” you taunt but he simply drops your purse on the bench behind you with a swift motion and turns to head out.

Slightly shocked you don’t get more of a reaction out of him leaves you wanting more, a twisted affect he had on you when he left you craving him if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“You don’t want me to introduce the pair of you then?” you call out, causing him to stop in his tracks on route to the door. You heart instantly picks up as you know you’ve got him “Do what you want” he spits out, still with his back to you. You make your way over to him and run your fingertip up and down his spine, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“Someone in a mood?” you innocently ask, knowing full well what you’re letting yourself in for but using it as more motivation to keep going. He hangs his head in laughter and takes a moment before he inhales through his flared nostrils, even facing away from you you can see the bitter look on his face as he bites the inside of his lip in frustration.

“Why don’t you just go and have a nice little lunch with your boyfriend and we’ll speak about this at home later” his calmness still confuses you and didn’t satisfy your craving and as much as you knew you shouldn’t provoke him you can’t help but continue to do so.

“You don’t Atleast want to know who he is? You could be letting me go to lunch with a murderer for all you know” you joke but he is not amused, not in the slightest. He deeply huffs which, to his frustration you know is a good sign you were getting what you wanted “No Y/N. I don’t want to know who the fuck he is” he finally bursts, turning in his spot and now staring down on you.

“I don’t give a shit who he is, I don’t give a shit what you’ve done together” the way his chest rises and falls in his passion truly awakes something within you and you no longer care how quick you feel overpowered by him.

“That’s not very kind” you respond, innocent tone paired with your eyelashes fluttering as you look up at Jay’s rage filled face.

“Kind? I don’t care about kind when it comes to other men flirting with my girl, baby” he starts taking steps towards you, forcing you to walk back under his demand.

Your back soon hits the bank of lockers with a thud, his eyes filled his hunger as he rests his arm to the side of your head and leans into you “He was only my first fuck, no big deal” you mumble but his spiteful chuckle tells you he heard it loud and clear, slightly regretting your honesty when you’re truly under his thumb and not getting out of his hold anytime soon.

“Say that again” he taunts, hand gripped onto your waist and getting tighter with each heavy breath. You don’t say a word as you know nothing will help what you’ve just said, he leaves it a moment before he continues.

“No?” He questions as you remain standing in silence, you shake your head to see the exasperation flashing across his face. “Why did you even tell me that?” He further asks and in all honesty you begin to question that yourself, you just knew it would be the worst thing you could admit and therefore it had to be done.

“Oh, I know why” he drops his head as he smiles to himself, hand running along his jawline as a smug smile makes its way onto his face. Not a second later his attention is back on you with the hunger in his eyes that you now desperately longed for.

“You want me to remind the name that I know you’re wishing you could moan right now” he teases as he pushes himself onto you further “straight up against these lockers, with my hand over your mouth to quieten them desperate pleas”. His eyes search your face for any form of resistance as he darts his knee inbetween your legs to separate them “Tell me I’m wrong baby?”.

You feel your body melt under his slightest touch, his words making you crumble into his grasp on you. With your mind no longer on Kyle or the fact you were at your place of work with the chance of getting caught at any moment “Your team just on the other side of that wall not having a single clue what’s going on”. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, his lips finding their way to your collarbone and lightly nipping at the skin.

“My girl wants me to fuck her so hard that she can’t even walk out of this room without me helping her” he proceeds to run his lips along your jawline, leaving lingering kisses as he goes “Not so mouthy now, hm?” He grasps at your hip to straighten you from your slumped position, feeling your legs turn to jelly as you yearn for his dominant touch “Use your words, baby”.

He catches you off guard with a deep and hungry kiss as his lips crash into yours, using his hand on the small of your back to steady you as you stumble from the sudden harshness. As you leaned into his desires, you wanted to use the tiniest bit of power you have left to well and truly push him over the edge. Something you knew that would have you playing this moment over in your head for weeks on end, him falling at your mercy and pushing him over the edge “Yes daddy”.

His eyes widen, something he had only heard you say a few times in the past but only after being encouraged at the height of passion and never on your own accord. The fingers digging into your hips told you all you needed to know, whether he liked to admit it, you’d won this hands down.

You run your to tongue over your bottom lip, now slightly swollen from the rough contact. His eyes follow your movement, the darkness in his eyes turning more intense as every second went by “oh baby” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to lift you up and secure yourself to him with your legs wrapped round him and your back pushed up against the lockers “you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for”.

****

Inbox and requests always open👀 am working through my current requests and one will be up in a few days💃🏼

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x you

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))

- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off

- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u

- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”

- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men

- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home

- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination

- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase

- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.

- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep

- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him

- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly

- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back

- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”

- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door

- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless

- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head

- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him

- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head

- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn’f even understand the issue

- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”

- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no

- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day

- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside

- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends

- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try

- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA

- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”

—/—

surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fic #mha bakugou #bakugou headcannon #bakugou hcs #mha headcannons #mha hcs

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tibby · 2 years ago

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i would google it but i only trust ur insight/opinions/facts. why was amanda in so many traps was it before she became an apprentice or was it punishment? also ps havent seen the movies - just very interested in lesbian amanda young . pps pls share any extra hcs u have about her ppps love u

hi lovely!! so amanda has technically only been put in one trap - the reverse beartrap - but she pretended to be a victim of the nerve gas house to keep daniel matthews safe, as his survival was required for another game (there's always like three fucking games going on at once in these movies). her apprenticeship was a test, because the only thing john kramer likes more than fucking with strangers is fucking with his employees, but that was a psychological test as opposed to "let's put some guys in a contraption and see what happens." and her failure there was due to hoffman's interference. if any of that makes sense to you as someone who has not seen the movies.

but! on a lighter note, here are some random/various hcs i have for her, some of which are vaguely in the realm of the jigsquad universe as opposed to canon because i want mandy to live. idk if all of these will make sense to a non saw watcher but i am ALWAYS happy to discuss my beloved amanda young:

she's a lesbian. obviously. genuinely surprised that this isn't canon within the films like i thought this was all something we just knew about amanda young.

she's a vegetarian.

despite her...choice of profession, she doesn't enjoy horror movies that much. she says it's because everything is so obviously fake or whatever, but they just genuinely freak her out. she's dealt with enough terrifying shit in her own life and witnesses man made horrors every day (even if she DID help make said horrors), she doesn't need to deal with it in the movies too. she DOES like dramas and documentaries though and usually goes down one of those roads when it's her pick for movie night.

immaculate head game. has lynn seeing shrimp colours.

even before john taught her his engineering knowledge, she's just been naturally good at fixing things up and likes getting to take care of stuff around the house or get the Team Jigsaw Van working again whenever it breaks down. she's good with her hands and isn't afraid of getting dirty, no innuendo intended.

she's smart and got good grades in school but her circumstances and home life and mental illnesses made it difficult for her to apply herself in a way that the education system demanded of her. she definitely did not enjoy the institution of school but i think she liked learning and developing new skills.

on a similar note, she loves to read and will devour anything from 1000 page classics to shitty romantic paperbacks to essays to poems to biographies. she doesn't sleep well so she usually just reads in bed for hours or while they're hanging around waiting for victims to wake up so that the games can start. when she moves in with adam and lawrence and gains access to lawrence's expansive rich educated person library...it's a big moment for her.

she's not particularly motherly or sisterly and doesn't really Do Friends outside of team torture and maim, but she checks in with daniel matthews every so often just to make sure he's doing okay. she doesn't regret what she did to his father but she does feel bad that daniel was harmed - both physically and mentally - because of it. and he's always sweet to her even if he has his suspicions about what amanda's done and she hopes that he'll grow up to be better than his father, better than her, better than all of them.

she's got issues around relationships and also the idea of having a home so it takes her time to actually acknowledge that she lives with adam and lawrence and is dating lynn, which means she spends a long time refusing to use the keys they give her to get through the front door. instead she just picks locks or climbs through windows no matter how many times she gets told that she's welcome whenever and can just walk in. she does get over that eventually (much to the relief of adam's paranoia and lynn's protective mothering) but for awhile there they did all just have to get used to mandy climbing in through a window.

she does Not Like people being in her personal space or touching her or going near her with sharp objects so she cuts her own hair and then eventually gets adam to do it. neither of them really know what they're doing but she's not that concerned with how it turns out. lynn thinks it's pretty no matter what and adam always jokingly calls her rock star once they're done sweeping hair off the floor, and that's enough for amanda.

in an ideal world where people live and they eventually retire out of the murder trap business, amanda and lynn start working with jill at the clinic. i think amanda would take a long time to realise that recovery is possible even without twisted jigsaw games but i do think she has a good heart despite everything and she'd be surprisingly understanding with those who have been through similar shit to her. let her heal from her trauma and come to see that humans can be good and untangle herself from the twisted mindset that john gave her.

#ask #anonymous #headcanons #she's EVERYTHING to me

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pacifymebby · 3 years ago

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Lebowski's / Bondy

AN if ur feeling sensitive about the split maybe don’t read this x (u have been warned so pls no one send me hateful asks or anything, i will literally just delete my acc if i get mean anons haha)

Y/N is feeling miserable at her works Christmas party, she meets someone else who is feeling the same.

The bar you were in was all decked out with tinsel and fairy lights, Christmas trees and flashy snowflake lights on the walls. Stars twinkled hanging in all the windows and the bar itself was sprinkled in fake snow.

Someone had really gone all out.

But you weren't feeling all that Christmassy. Even with the Christmas tunes and the festive themed cocktails youd been sipping on all night you weren't feeling all that great.

It was a work Christmas Do mind and no one ever feels fabulous at those. Tonight though you were feeling particularly put out.

It was potentially the last party you would attend for your work, you were thinking about leaving in the new year and going to study something completely different. Sure doing PR for bands was exciting and sure there was never a dull moment, you had loads to invest yourself in and lots to think about all the time, but actually that was a lie. There were plenty of dull moments. All the hours you spent in the office pouring your life into someone else's dream. It was draining and sometimes staring at a computer screen all day just wasn't what you wanted to do.

Hardly ever in fact.

You'd always fancied yourself as a writer, that was your dream, to settle down somewhere quiet and open a book shop or a cafe and spend all your free moments writing. But it was a pipedream and you knew it. An unrealisitic daydream that you only really clung to to get you through long days in the office. And long evenings spent in Christmas themed bars drinking yourself out of and then straight back into your melancholy.

"Y/N isn't it?"

The voice which spoke and drew you out of your thoughts wasnt familiar to you because you'd ever had a conversation with the speaker before. It was familiar to you because you'd spent the last two years of your life having to watch back all their interviews and media appearances to make suggestions for how they could improve their online presence.

You were supposed to be in charge of monitoring their Instagram account too, making sure everything they put up was on brand, but every time you flagged something as not being on brand, this particular individual, the lad who was looking at you expectant and uncertain now, would ignore the labels request that next time he posted something more "chill."

"Uh... Yeah... Hi?" you asked suddenly uncertain yourself. Johnny Bond really couldn't have a good impression of you from the little communication you had ever had with him, always just your notes relayed back to him by the label advisors. You knew how you came across in those notes - a boring, uptight bitch. But that wasn't you and the notes you made were never your own opinions. You actually secretly enjoyed the chaotic antics of Johnny Bond, you just weren't going to risk the career you didn't want or care about to speak up on his behalf. Not when he did such a good job of getting away with ignoring your notes anyway.

"So you're the lass they pay to spy on me," he said with a teasing smile that made you blush. He leant up against the bar and hummed contemplatively as you lost your voice.

"I mean I..." you started, not sure how to defend yourself, "if it's any consolation I don't like doing it..."

"No pet," he chuckled, "somehow hearing you don't even enjoy spying on me makes it even worse... Am a really that insufferable," he was really teasing you now and you were really floundering. You were usually alright at coming up with clever lines, especially after a drink or two, but being face to face with a man you'd had to spend the last two years trying to reign in, despite never having met him before in your life, you were suddenly feeling extremely flustered.

"a..." you started losing your voice and blushing a deep red when he laughed and shook his head offering you a warmer smile as he sipped his drink.

"Howay lass am only messin with yas," he smiled, "I kinda like it actually, getting to meet me FBI agent," he said, "always wondered who it was they were forcing to suffer my Instagram," he grinned, chuckling again when you winced thinking you'd offended him.

"I wouldn't say suffering," you smiled shyly, wanting to tell him that you really were sorry about the relentless "this isn't on brand," notes you had to send to him but knowing that admitting you were working as some mindless soldier for "the regime" was more embarrassing than admitting to being a boring bitch.

"Really?" he raised his brow draining his glass and frowning into it when he realised he'd already finished his drink.

"Yeah," you smirked, "at least you're not dull..." you added wanting to tell him what you really thought, which was that actually he was one of the more endearing clients your company had on the books, that actually you would be sorry most of all to leave because you wouldn't have an excuse to keep up with the everyday life of Johnny bond. But you couldn't say that, it sounded mental.

"Aye," he said, "that's me, the very antithesis..."

"I wouldn't go that far," you giggled into your own glass, blushing when he turned to the barman and ordered two more drinks, one for you. "Thanks," you said, "a was rationing this," you admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Rationing at an open bar, that sounds more like the FBI agent I know," he winked, making you laugh quietly, shaking your head.

"Not an open bar for everyone," you said with a shrug, "only for management and special guests," you nodded to him, smiling faux acusatory and though he smirked wryly at that he didn't look best pleased to hear that news.

"That's insane," he frowned, "always knew management were wankers," he said shaking his head, the glower in his eyes indicating that there was more to that statement than he was willing to let on.

"Careful," you smirked, "your FBI agent might be takin notes,"

"Nah," he chuckled offering you a softer smile, "nah a reckon she's one of the goodies..."

"She won't be either for very long," you sighed then, not sure why you were suddenly feeling like confessing to your secret. You hadn't told anyone yet because you knew how shitty management got with people who quit. It was always treated like a betrayal of the team, your coworkers getting dumped with all your work for no extra pay and a hell of a lot of extra stress. You wouldn't be getting a leaving card that was for certain.

"Oh?" he asked, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes, watching you from over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

"Yeah am thinkin of leaving but it's you know... Don't tell anyone please," you added suddenly remembering that you didn't really know anything about this man. That he could have been another snake in the grass for all you knew.

"Your secrets safe with me lass," he said softly, suddenly melancholic then, "why dya wanna leave?" he asked. You didn't realise he was looking to you then for confirmation of some things he'd been mulling over for quite some time. Perhaps you'd have softened the blow if you had.

"I just hate it here," you admitted taking another, much longer sip of your drink.

The two of you stood leaning back against the bar, watching the room of party goers dancing and chatting and mingling. They all seemed to be making the most of their evening but you knew that didn't necessarily mean they weren't working.

Most promotions happened at the Christmas party and you knew all the lads and lassies from the office would be sucking up to management, trying to flirt with the big names to earn themselves even a tiny fraction more in their next paycheck.

Johnny had been laughing at your comment but when you carried on hw appeared to peeter out into a wince.

"Its just all so... So hostile? I think that's the word, I don't know its just, it's just fucking boring apart from anything else and me managers are complete cunts and half the clients are complete cunts... Not you, sorry no offence,"

"None taken," he smirked still chuckling at your sudden vitriol.

"And like, I feel like what do I even do all day? Watch your Instagram and critique you for being your authentic self? How sad is that? What a waste ya know? Spend all my time making notes that aren't even my real opinions... An it's not like any of it means anything really... You know, people are dying Kim," you rolled your eyes at yourself and did little jazz hands not realising your actions until Johnny had let out a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, looking genuinely amused for the first time since you'd started talking.

"Aye a know what y'mean," he nodded, his smile fading then, "bit disillusioned with the whole thing meself these days an all,"

"What dya mean?" you asked, biting your bottom lip a little uncertain worried you were intruding now. Though you'd just poured your heart out to him, even if you had brushed it off with an awkward smile.

"I don't know lass it's what you said int it, it's hostile," he shrugged, "don't get me wrong a fuckin love tourin an playing music an all that like but a don't know, its just a bit... I don't know, fucken maddening..." he smirked, "an like a don't know if am wasting me life..."

"You're not wasting your life if you're doing somet you love..." you said chewing your cheek, feeling a little guilt tugging at your heart strings knowing you were a part of that hostile industry.

"Aye," he smirked wryly, "exactly," he necked his drink and turned to order two more, "gan need a bit more to drink if we're gonna start being eachother therapists,"he chuckled offering you another white Russian.

You smirked and held your glass up as if to cheers to that.

"A feel like The Dude," he smirked taking a sip, admiring the drink in his hand.

"The Dude lives inside everyone of us," you nodded trying your best to keep a straight face. You smiled softly when he chuckled, when his eyes met yours and you realised he hadn't quite finished confessing.

"You ever feel like you're paying too much attention to things that don't really matter?" he asked and you bit back a sad, small smile.

"Yeah," you said, "all the time... Like you're worrying about all these things that don't matter so you don't have to worry about the things that do,"

"Aye," he nodded, "a think that's it, a think that's what av realised av been doing an now... Well I don't know... I don't just wanna throw everything away but..."

"You don't like feeling inauthentic?" you asked sipping your drink, glancing around the room. A scene the antithesis of authenticity if ever you'd seen one.

"Aye," he smirked, "only wanna do stuff that makes us happy like,"

"Aye," you smiled softly, "me too..."

After that you settled into an almost comfortable silence. You wanted to say more, wanted to say anything else to break the quiet but small talk seemed futile to you now that you'd unearthed eachothers emotional headaches. So you said nothing, just sipped your drinks and watched the party rage on.

You found it darkly amusing to watch, the music industry has such a reputation for lavish over indulgences and crazy nights but not here, not at a company party. Everyone was desperate to let loose, desperate to be seen as the life and soul of the party, but they were also all holding back for fear of embarrassing themselves or not being taken seriously. They were all too busy playing the game to have any real fun at all and as you watched the scene in front of you you felt yourself settle and make peace with the thought of leaving it all behind.

"So what are you gan do?" asked Johnny suddenly, following your gaze and smirking, you wondered if he found it amusing for the same reason as you.

"What?" you asked dragged out of your thoughts by him once more, you turned to look at him and caught the light in his eyes, couldn't help but smile a little at him then.

"With all this free time you're gan have when you don't have to stalk me instagram anymore..." he chuckled, "what're you gan do with yourself?"

"I don't know," you said shrugging your shoulders, blushing feeling suddenly self concious. You were going to throw your career away and you didn't even know what for, "I wanna travel I guess, I wanna go to Japan and America and I don't know, loads of different places I guess, and..." you trailed off, biting your lip, looking away from him for a moment out of shyness. It felt silly, this dream of yours.

"Go on," he nodded, a small but encouraging smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I think I wanna be a writer," you said, "I don't know what I want to write but..."

"Guess you don't need to know exactly," he said, "a think you should do it though," he added then, glancing back over at you with a more serious expression on his brow, he looked like he really meant it when he said, "you looked happy then when you were talkin about it, happier than you did when a saw you earlier..."

You smirked a little guilty then, blushing and casting your eyes down to the floor.

"Give over did I really look that miserable?" you asked pushing your hair behind your ear awkwardly, relaxing when he chuckled and doubled down.

"Aye, about as miserable as I felt I'd say," he admitted, "that's why I came over like... You looked like the only other person who wanted be here less than I did,"

You smirked and that, you couldn't argue at all.

"Aye at least for you it's a free bar," you teased, "some of us aren't even that lucky!" you grinned relaxing once again when he chuckled and agreed that he was in fact feeling much more lucky than you.

"What about you?" you asked then, feeling the conversation pull to a close prematurely, wanting to hold onto the understanding between you which was easing you through the night.

He was calmer than you'd imagined him to be. He seemed far more laidback than he had come across before when you'd only known him through his insane Instagram captions.

He was easier to talk to than you had expected as well and something about him had you feeling like he was the perfect familiar stranger to confess everything too.

"Hmm?" he raised his brow, as if he'd been deep in thought and had in fact forgotten what you'd been talking about. He'd been looking at you, his eyes flickering over your features. You wondered if he'd just been trying to work out how trustworthy you really were.

"If you quit, what dya think you'll do?" you asked seeing the smirk in his eyes before it reached his lips. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he said softer than you'd expected, "loadsa stuff I guess, I'd have time to do loadsa stuff a spose,"

"Yeah," you said nodding along, sipping your drink, "it's a bit daunting isn't it..."

"Aye," he chuckled, "is a bit... A wanna go back to America, an Japan, an I also just really wanna stay home and be back with me mates and me family, an a think like, a wanna play music and a wanna make art and a also just wanna make a brew every now and then y'know..."

"I don't think you have to choose just one thing," you said, "know that probably sounds dead daft cause I know the bands all consuming but like,"

"Nah," he said, "you're right like, a could probably find a balance if it were up to me.."

"Oh," you said understanding then, realising where his problem really lay. With the label, with management, with the team of relentless industry men who had bigger better ideas for.

"Yeah," you said with a helpless shrug, "who am I kidding its an industry of tyrants,"

He laughed at that but the smile didn't reach his eyes and you could tell he was still feeling conflicted. Still a little down and out.

"Y'know what I think?" you asked, offering him a cheeky kind of smile, hoping to reassure him, he certainly looked like he needed it just then, "I think if you're not happy now, you have to try somet new, until you find a place where you can be happy... Even if that's like, knitting or birdwatching or sand castle competition judging..."

"What?" he smirked looking at you then with a twinkle of amusement and bewilderment, his smile settling when you doubled down on your advice.

"I mean it doesn't matter what you end up doing, as long as you get happy," you said certain then of what you were trying to say. "Otherwise you are wasting your life aren't you, don't do stuff that makes you miserable..."

"Aye," he said swallowing the last of his drink. You were both really tanking it through these white Russians. You both really needed the drink. "Glad av got such a wise FBI agent," he teased then, nudging you with his elbow, chuckling when you gasped and turned to him with horrified eyes. You were giggling, both of you smiling rare genuine smiles when you trailed off.

You were looking at him thinking how grateful you were to him for talking to you, for seeing you on your own and deciding to be your friend for the evening.

He was looking at you and thinking just the same, grateful that the girl he'd hoped would understand him, had listened to him talking miserable shite all evening. Grateful she was giggling with him now.

"Eyyyyyyy y/n's under the mistletoe with Bondy!" shouted Danny one of the boys from your office, one of the loud mouth bitchy lads that was always sucking up to management and always pissing you off.

You cringed when you looked up at the same time as Bondy, both of you realising then that Danny was right. You were in fact stood under the mistletoe.

"Whatever he says next am sorry," you mumbled your cheeks flushing bright red. Johnny just laughed though he was blushing himself.

"Gwan lad give her a kiss then!" Bradley joined in clapping Danny on the back as they drew the attention of everyone else.

"For f..." you started only to trail off when you saw Johnny lean in, not to your lips but to your cheek, his arm around your shoulder as he apologised to you too. Though his was a little less humiliated.

"Sorry lass ad have liked to have done that somewhere a little quieter," he smirked, letting his arm unwind from round your shoulder as the boys erupted into wolf whistles and embarrassing chants.

You were speechless however, looking back at Johnny barely able to get your head around how carelessly he'd leant in. As if it wasn't a torturous ordeal, as if he really was telling the truth when he said he'd have liked to have done that.

"Wait did you..." you started, biting your lip, floundering and flustered as Johnny sipped the rest of his drink and smirked at you from behind his glass.

The other boys were still making a fuss, berating him for not giving you a proper snog. Making crass jokes about how you'd have to try harder if you wanted a promotion.

"Did I?" he smirked raising his brow, though another comment from the other lads painted a frown on his features once more.

"D... Did you actually wanna kiss me just now?" you looked shocked and then, when the words left your lips you looked utterly mortified and he couldn't help but be endeared to the flush of your cheeks as you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic.

"Are you joking?" he chuckled, "don't be daft pet," he smirked offering you his hand then, "dya smoke? An if not dya wanna come outside with me anyway?" he asked looking somewhat hopeful.

Even if you hadn't wanted to go outside with him you'd have followed him then just to get away from the party and Danny and Brad.

"Like I said, everyone's a wanker," you mumbled as you left through the back door, sitting out by the fire escape. You were sure you weren't really allowed round the back where all the empty kegs were and all the junk, but you didn't mind, it was nice and quiet out the back. Peaceful.

You sat down beside him on the metal stairs and watched him light up a smoke as you held your chin in your hands.

"Thanks for letting me mither at you," you smirked swirling the ice in your drink around half heartedly.

"Thanks for letting me mither at you," he chuckled, his smile lingering when he turned to you, "don't reckon I've been this honest in awhile," he said, the drunk haze in his eyes telling you exactly why he was being so honest with you now.

"That'll be the white Russians, dude," you teased noticing how he smiled but didn't laugh, shaking his head.

"Nah, a reckon it's you actually," he smirked, "dude,"

You grinned then, feeling yourself blushing, not sure what to say, thinking he was only teasing until his eyes flickered over your face once more. Lingering softly on yours.

"You've got an honest face..." he smirked.

"That a polite way of telling me I can't hide me emotions and you spotted me resting bitch face off miles..."

"No," he cut you off, closer to you then, his hand taking yours the action which hushed you.

"Means you look like the kinda lass you can trust," he said quieter, "n a really needed you tonight so... Thanks," he added, his own cheeks tinged pink whether that be a sudden shyness or perhaps the cold. You weren't sure and you weren't sure what to say.

"Oh," you said softly, watching him smoke his cigarette, admiring his casual elegance. He was calming to look at, warming despite the chill in the December air. "Yeah," you said then, feeling more honest than you cared to admit, "think I really needed you too..."

He smiled quietly, looking down at your hands, your fingers interlinked as he turned your palm over and drew a slow circle around it as he spoke.

There was an understanding bristling between you, a subtle romance to the way you were sitting. So close and so honest. Your shoulders were brushing. Both of you could feel it and though it had seemingly snook up on you from nowhere you knew it was an evenings work. The hour you'd spent talking by the bar, the honesty you had laid upon one another.

"Dya think a could kiss you again?" he asked, swallowing a lump in his throat as he looked up at you from under his lashes.

You bit your lip to hide your smile, a little stunned, a little relieved he'd been feeling it too. That pull between you.

You nodded, quiet and frozen.

"Only if you promise we can leave soon," you said with a small smirk tugging at your lips and at his when he leant in. His kiss an answer, yes.

Your lips met, cold noses brushing as you kissed, his breath on your cheek warm as he pulled away. For a moment he looked shy but when you reached for his shirt and tugged him gently back in for another kiss he found his confidence once more. His lips locking with yours, his hand in your hair, yours gripping his shirt. You were smiling when you pulled away.

It was the most comfortable you'd felt in a long time.

"Cmon then dude," he chuckled, "let's skidaddle,"

#catb imagines #Bondy x reader #Johnny bond x reader #catfish and the bottlemen 2014 #Catfish and the bottlemen imagines

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dewykth · 4 years ago

Text

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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cosmicpercy · 5 years ago

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adam groff in a nutshell (season 2 only)

dog lover

he was actually trying in military school bc he wanted to stay instead of being at home

slowly starting to be empathetic bc he couldve outed his military school classmates but didnt bc he knew what it feels like to be closeted

adam “girlfriend? AH YES i have a girlfriend and yes she has round full... breasts? boobs?” groff

apparently he has a thing for elbows (need more explanation on this!!! hahaha)

dumbass softie

DOGS!!!!

modern day romeo and juliet throwing pebbles on ur window and giving puppy looks to get u to come out and hang out with him

spends his free time in a junkyard smashing things as his coping mechanism

he's definitely got some moves (did yall see that last bat swing he did???? there's nothing straight about it)

would gladly show u what he learned in military school and consider it flirting

dogs bring out the softie in him

dork employee that puts price tags in his mouth and eats it to hide it

realizes his sexuality by wanking off to a poster w a man and a woman and couldn’t which gets him turned on more

scared little boy that just wants someone to help him through this sexual awakening

has nothing better to do so he just sat on the grass even if he just got rejected

adam the dog whisperer

he wentfrom scared bi to out and proud BISEXUAL KING

tell him he’s your friend and he’ll sweep u off your feet and hug u

“im trying to work on my small talk” he’s putting himself out there bc he wants to change and work on himself

frozen makes him sad (wbk he probably relates to elsa the most)

FINALLY owns up to his past behavior and acknowledges that he has hurt eric and doesn’t expect any reaction after it

yeets himself off to school bc that’s what u do when you’re in love right

ruins a school play just to ask u to hold his hand bc that’s all that matters in that moment right

finally realizes he wants to be good at something and actively makes decisions that will lead him to that

i just have to write it again.... he is the protector of dogs

the writers really knew what they were doing making him one of the most loved characters of the season so pls i hope his development continues for the better

feel free to add if i missed anything!

#sex education #sex ed #sex education netflix #adam groff #eric x adam #i just wanna say i did not expect myself to write a whole ass post about adam groff #but here we are #and he is my current fave #so yup

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brw · 4 years ago

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rating random outfits from the vision because i am very bored

outfit one - classic look

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. they are both wearing the same outfit, of a green bodysuit that covers every part of their body aside from the front of their face. with it, they wear yellow gloves, yellow boots and a knee-length cape which has a large flared collar. their torso is covered by yellow fabric which wraps around them like a corset. it ends at the top of their thighs. in the first image, they are faced to the left, with one leg raised and their cape floating around their shoulders. in the second image, they have she-hulk, thor & monica rambeau as captain marvel grouped behind them. they are facing forwards and gesturing towards the viewer with their hand. end id/]

- cape goes woosh

- literally the only thing showing is their face everything else is covered

- the collar is very dramatic and gay which i appreciate

- kinda wearing a corset thing? which is cool

- idk what's up with the diamond thing between their tits :/

- colour combo is atrocious but that's a staple of their style it seems lmao

- very out there, very dramatic

- you could probably wear something similar to a pride parade tbh just change the colours and you're good to go

- i like the gloves they look like the yellow ones you use to wash dishes in the sink with the scrubber thingy

final score - 7/10 bonus points for nostalgia & cape, its a very nice very classic look but also very modest :/ show some skin pls ur wife is basically wearing a swimsuit with gloves show a little solidarity :/

outfit two - boob window

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are reaching upwards with one arm extended in an attempt to escape several grey hands reaching up to their hip trying to drag them down. their costume is one piece broken into three sections. the bottom half is green and goes slightly above their hips creating a large v-shape. the middle half is yellow and v-shaped as well. the top part reaches to their shoulders and the bottom part is to the middle of their chest, and extends all the way to their fingers. the base of the v is also the bottom of a diamond cut out revealing some of their skin in the pectoral area. the top of the diamond leads to the third and final part of the costume which is the same shade of green as the bottom. This part is a large collar, a head covering that wraps around all around their head but leaves the face uncovered, as well as a cape that is shredded at the bottom. end id/]

- very similar outfit with inverted colours and instead of adding a diamond they cut one out :)

- another wooshy cape :)

- still has their face covered all around except for the front tho :( like idk wouldn't that annoy you? what if it gets too tight or you get hot?

- i have no idea how their cape works with the diamond cleavage window thingy like?? did they just use superglue? please explain

- gloves are gone 😔

- and no more boots 😔😔😔

- corset gone why did they remove all the sexy parts the tiddy does not compensate 😔😔😔😔😔

final score - 3/10 it's basically just an inverted version of the last one except they took the Cool Sexy Bits away which makes everything boring :/ bonus points for the boob window thing though, shows the beginning of their Bimboification :)

outfit three - detective

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are standing with one leg resting on something that is not in view. they are partially shadowed, and wear an intense, thoughtful expression. there is a cigarette hanging out of the side of their mouth. they look similar to a 1940s film noir character. they are wearing a white shirt that appears to be a button up, though the thickness of their tie that reaches down to their trousers obstructs any buttons. their sleeves are rolled up to around their elbows. their tie is somewhat loosened around their neck, and is white with black stripes in varying thickness. they wear a pair of thick white suspenders that connect to their trousers, which seem to be grey or a dull brown. they have one of their hands in their trouser pocket. under the same arm is a gun, though this is hard to make out in the darkness. they are also wearing a broad-rimmed fedora, which casts half their face in shadow with only their pupilless bright yellow eyes showing through. end id/]

- this ABSOLUTELY fucks

- unirionically sexy

- noir detective look very nice very cash money

- the loosened tie really just puts the whole thing together

- their face is free! no more awkward green pieces of plastic or whatever!

- calls pretty people "dames" for sure

- rolled up sleeves make me feel like a repressed victorian girl who's just begun to experiment with the Devil's Doorbell™

- smoking is bad for ur health but jesus if it isn't a vibe

- hat worn by reddit "nice guys" :/

final score - 9/10 this really is one hell of a look, very 1920s it absolutely slaps the suspenders are everything tbh if they were in a movie they'd probably be played by harrison ford idk why. anyway this ABSOLUTELY fucks and is one of my faves and is criminally underrated 🤗

outfit four - suit

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. in both panels, they are wearing the same simple two-piece black suit, with a white shirt underneath their jacket. there are no buttons or pockets on their jacket, and everything seems to be perfectly ironed. their tie is long and thin, and is tight around their neck. their shoes are nondescript and black. in the first panel, vision is to the side, and is floating in the air. in the second panel, vision is standing and is facing the viewer, with their face slightly shadowed and their fists clenched at their sides. end id/]

- simple, cute, chic

- the thinness of the tie is a big change from the last one

- classic suit style, the most casual of formal wear

- office worker kind of thing but like. a FANCY office

- nondescript; no personality in it whatsoever :/

- makes them look like a conservative 😔

final score - 4/10 it's kinda boring tbh they look cute but :/ lame. shows them trying too hard to conform to humanity's standards and it is Not A Vibe. there's no Sauce & also appears in something written by t*m k*ng so the association is immediately off

outfit five - ultimates aka No Clothes Titty Out

[image id: a comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. this one is from the ultimates/1610-verse. this vision is more female-presenting then their 616 counterpart. they are not wearing any clothes. their body is golden and reflective and metallic. their body is comprised of different plates of metal, which are symmetric. just before their elbow, there is a gap in each arm between the metal plates so you can see the wires running through their arms underneath. there is a red diamond shape, still made of metal, in the area where a belly button would be on a human being. they have breasts that do not have any nipples, but have a large circle plating where the nipple would normally be. much like their 616 version they are bald with a yellow diamond in their forehead. their expression is difficult to read but they appear to be smiling slightly. their arms are raised around their head, not touching their skull but close to it. they are strutting towards the viewer with one hip jutted to the side. metal wires surround them, with none of them fully touching them aside from a thick one seemingly connected to the back of their neck. end id/]

- pussy out

- no clothes this bitch doesn't need them (but they do need titties for some reason??? bro????)

- red diamond thing to cover up the bellybutton? girl what are you hiding

- Gold And Shiny a nice change from our regularly scheduled red skin

- emulating aunt/sister/mother/whatever the fuck jocasta which is nice, it's about time vision got someone other then Fashion Disaster Wonder Man to help them out. i guess nudity is better then combining green and yellow all together with red skin jjshsheheh

- sexualised :/

- genuinely kinda hot tho i think i have succumbed to the Robot Tiddies 😔

- no idea how the physics of their hip/ass jutting out is supposed to work it looks like they dislocated something

final score - 6/10 it's cool but also why did u sexualised the android like i. also they are a robot and not a synthezoid which :( why. but u know i appreciate the pussy out kinda thing and ultimates verse vision dated sam wilson so they have good taste. points knocked off for being from the ultimates verse which is Bad™ imo

outfit six - This Fucking Thing What Is This I Hate It So Much

[image id: a cropped panel of the vision from marvel comics. they are facing the viewer with an angry expression. their fists are tightly clenched and are raised slightly. around their wrists are thick yellow spiked bracelets. their arms are uncovered. their shoulders are covered by yellow spiked shoulderpads. they are wearing a green bodysuit with a bright yellow collar around their neck and a plunged neckline that goes all the way down their chest and torso until it is obstructed by yellow underwear, which is held up by a very thick yellow ring, which is also covered in spikes. their green bodysuit continues all the way down their legs until their boots, which are go up half-way around their calves and are folded over. they have a yellow diamond stuck in the middle of their chest. they are also wearing a green helmet that is green and corinthian (greek) in style. it is also spiked. the spikes at either side of the faceplate are small and yellow. the one at the top of the helmet is the same shade of green as the helmet itself. end id/]

- why

- it's. it's so ugly

- what's with the fucking spikes

- the boots are horrendous

- helmet looks they bought it at a museum for £15 and its made out of cheap shitty poorly made and badly painted plastic

- why did they glue a yellow diamond to their chest what is the fucking point

- porcupine energy

- the shoulder pads why the fucking shoulder pads disco isn't coming back just accept it

- spike belt underwear????? why??????????? looks like they made one of those chokers huge and called it a day

- it's just. it's just so ugly. why would you think this was a good idea who is responsible

final score - 0/10 i do not want to see it

#brieuc.txt #the vision #clothing rating #comics #if i did the image id wrong please tell me i have never done them before hbsjshsjja #vision #ch: far superior to flesh and blood #long post

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pinkykitten · 6 years ago

Text

Roses

The Good Doctor

Neil Melendez x female! reader

Warning: abusive ex, talking about abuse, violence

Specifics: angst, romance, fluff, comedy, race neutral reader, one-shot

People: neil melendez, shaun murphy, greg (oc)

Words: 2,344

Requested: By anon Okay hi I'm thirsty for a fluffy protection type fiction. Like maybe Niel Melendez brings his girlfriend out for a nice dinner and shopping day and they end up seeing their abusive ex that decides to confront them so he gets protective (he's got them big muscules so 😂) and idk take it fron there i guess? Please and thank you! 💙💙

Authors Note: ok first off this is a very touchy subject and if u r in a abusive relationship or know some one who is in one pls get help, u dont deserve this treatment and ask someone for help, call someone, call the hotline for ur area this is a very serious subject. i hope i did justice in that area for survivors. i also chose this gif because i luv seeing my bby kissing and like hes just soooo handsome, us good folks all deserve a melendez in our life! also i read that flower in japanese is hana if its not im srry i found it on google.

“So you’re gonna join me at 7 tonight right?” Your boyfriend Neil asked as he stepped behind you, kissing your head.

“Babe we’re at work,” you chuckled, turning around and greeting his precious, handsome face. His lips curled into a smile, “you think I care, I’m showing my girl some love.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips lightly, “of course I’m gonna be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You pecked his cheek and then whispered your parting into his ear, “I can’t wait for you to see how tight my dress is on me.”

“If you keep talking like that I might just want to skip dinner and eat something else instead.”

You rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder playfully, “forward aren't we today Neil!” As Neil was about to proceed in his flirtatious attitude Shaun showed up and gave his innocent face to the two of you. “What are you two discussing?”

You found that it was your time to leave so you gave a little wave and let Neil take that embarrassing question for the team, “I know babe you’ll come up with a good answer to Shaun.”

You were very excited to meet up with Neil for dinner. He was taking you somewhere that you always wanted to go, according to him. See, the dinner or more like where it is taken at is a surprise. You have not a clue where Neil is taking you. It made you bubbly on the inside towards the day.

Taking the day into your hands you got out of work early so you could have time to doll yourself up.

When you arrived home you took a shower, put makeup on, and then slipped on your dress. As you took a look in the mirror at your self you were unsure. “I don’t know, is this too much?” You questioned a loud, peering at yourself from side to side. Thats when you heard a knock at your door. “Oh well too late now.”

You touched up on your lips real quick with your makeup and ran to the door in your heels. Taking a couple of breaths you opened to find Neil.

“Hi babe, wow you look,” your words were stuck in your throat. You eyed him up and down and swallowed harshly. “Wow, you look so, so, so-”

“Look at you,” he whispered, almost like to himself. He was looking at you up and down as well but he looked at you as if you were the most beautiful star in the galaxy. His eyes shone with love, having a little twinkle in them. He was head over heels for you, he was in love. “You look gorgeous baby.”

You smiled away, bashful, “You look amazing as well.”

Neil brought his hand out for you to take hold. He guided you to his car, opening the door for you like a gentleman, “oh you didn’t need to do that.”

Neil bent down to capture your lips in a kiss, “I wanted to though.”

On your way to the surprise restaurant you couldn’t help but try to guess where he was taking you. He would sternly give you a look and then you would pout making him give in and give you hints.

“Okay we’re here.” Your head shot up to the restaurant. E/c eyes opening wide and bright you squeal in shock. “No way babe, you got a reservation for this restaurant? I’ve wanted to come here for so long, how did you know?”

Neil took a hold of your hand and was giggling at how adorable you were acting, “y/n you talk about this place all the time. Let me tell you it wasn’t easy getting reservations but I kinda had to pull a few strings.”

You embraced Neil and kissed him repeatedly all over the face, “I. LOVE. YOU. SO. MUCH!”

“I love you too, now c’mon.”

You two walked to the restaurant and it was as if you stepped into a fairy tale book. There were chandeliers gleaming and sparkling like diamonds, hanging delicately from the roof. There was gold embroidery on almost everything. A live band playing jazz music was there. All the guests look so sophisticated and glamorous with their outfits on. You were astonished. “Oh my god this is so classy, I can’t believe I’m here.”

Neil places his hand on your lower back to escort you to the table that the waiter had for you two. You both sat by a window, overseeing the city. The lights were bright and small making it seem like fireflies. As you looked down below you could see people walking, minding their own business.

“Thank you for taking me here. I’m so happy to be here with you. This is the best surprises.”

Neil grabbed your hand and kissed it, “well get used to it. There’s gonna be more surprises along the road. You chuckled and lightly touched his leg with yours, “who knows maybe I have a surprise up my sleeve for you today.” You flirted to him as he raised his brow.

You two dined fine that afternoon. Laughing, flirting, just having yourself a good time that is until you saw him. You look up into his eyes, your heart and world seem to stop. Its only him and you. It is your ex from your college days, only a couple of years ago did you break up with him. He was a monster. He would abuse you verbally but also physically. Your eyes widen and you are brought back in the present with Neil’s voice. “You okay sweetheart?”

You almost choke on your food but nod not wanting him to worry, “yes I’m fine.” The ex comes to your table with a new woman. She seems to have a bad attitude. “Why if it isn’t y/n l/n. How are you?”

As he gets closer to the table you see clearly his face again. That dam* face, still to this day gives you nightmares. Neil never knew about him because you felt that it was not necessary to tell him of this information. You were quiet with your answer, looking down and not at him, “fine.”

Neil took note of this and knew something was up, he was worried. “How do you two know each other?”

“Oh he’s just an old-”

“We used to date, I’m Greg.”

Neil was about to give his name when Greg stopped him, he shook his hand and said, “no need Mr. Melendez. I know all about you. You’re that doctor in that hospital with that autistic kid. Must have a hel* of a lot stories with him.”

“Actually he’s very good with his job, he’s one of the best.” Neil answered back.

“Now what do you do again y/n?”

“I’m a doctor at the same hospital. We work together.” Your hands found themselves twisting and clutching the table cloth. You did not act like yourself.

“Oh how nice, are you two together?”

Neil nodded and grabbed your hand, reassuring you and showing that you two are together to your old ex, feeling a bit jealous. “Yes we are actually. She’s the best thing thats ever happened to me.”

“Thats funny I remember when I used to say that. Man, it seems like a million years ago.”

You could tell Neil was getting over protective of you the way his jaw clenched whenever that wrenched man ever talked about your past relationship with him.

“I always told y/n though, when she told me she wanted to be a doctor, to reach for something more...possible. Now look! She’s done the thing she wanted to do, maybe I some what some way encouraged her.” He laughed evilly at the end of his statement.

“Well I’ve always told y/n that she can do anything she puts her mind to. She’s very hard working and that is one of the many things that I love about her,” Neil was almost about to break the knife he was holding. His eyes were burning with anger. He was boiling on the inside. His jaw was clenching and he was almost shaking at how rude this man was to you.

The man took notice of it and wanted to play with fire. He placed his tough hands that were rough looking on your shoulder, close to your neck. “Its a shame, as I recall me and y/n had some wonderful times together. Didn’t we sweetheart?”

Your breathing was coming out in short breaths, your nostrils flaring. Tears almost about to spill. You were frightened. If Neil wasn’t here you would of gotten up and ran away, but you didn’t want to form a show. You nodded to his question. His hand lingered too long on you for Neil’s liking. Greg’s fingers stroking where he used to strangle you when you two were together and then as you were about to pass out he would let you take a breath. He liked to be the leader, the man capable of deciding whether you lived or died. You started to shake with fear and Neil had enough. He abruptly stood up, his muscles showing full well through his tight suit. He looked as if he wanted to punch Greg straight in the jaw. Neil walked so close to Greg you were worried they were about to fight.

“Don’t touch her.” Neil ordered, his voice rough almost a bark.

“Excuse me?”

Neil pointed a finger at him, “I said don’t touch her. Get your ungrateful hands off her.”

Greg looked like he was the victim and placed his hands by his side. “You can have the whore, she wasn’t good any ways.”

Neil almost lunged himself at the man but you blocked Neil and stopped him. You placed a hand on his cheek to get him to only pay attention to you. “Hey babe its okay look at me, please don’t worry about him.” Neil tried to focus on his breathing and his temper, leaning his forehead against yours. As he sat down, almost calm, you saw that he bent the knife all the way so that it looked like a c. As things were settled you felt the heat of it all on you at that moment and needed fresh air.

“I think I’m done here,” you wiped your mouth with the napkin and ran to the exit. Tears streaming down your face.

Neil tried to stop you, calling out your name. He was very worried about you.

You sprinted outside and sat on a nearby bench away from everyone. There you sobbed, all of the monstrous things that Greg did coming back to you and haunting you.

“Baby,” you heard Neil’s voice as he came up to you. “Baby whats wrong?”

He sat beside you and looked at your face. Your cheeks stained with tears. Neil’s arm found themselves around your shoulder. “Please y/n tell me whats wrong?”

“That man inside the restaurant. Its true what he says that we were together, but when I was with him he, he beat me. Neil he used to beat me so many times a day, he hurt me so bad.” You sobbed uncontrollably in Neil’s chest. Neil embraced you tighter, kissing your forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“He scared me Neil, I was so scared!”

Neil was shaking with anger. “I’ll kill that man! I’m gonna kill him.” He was being very over protective over you. You were his life.

“No please babe, please don’t. I don’t want you to get into trouble, please.” Your eyes said it all when he looked into them. They were begging.

Neil closed his eyes, they were watery. “Okay.” Was all he could say.

You clutched onto Neil as hard as you could. Just wanting him to be with you and to just have his presence. He made you feel safe and calm.

“I promise nobody will ever hurt you again,” he whispered into your ear. Kissing your face then your lips, showing you how much he truly loves you.

Neil was there for you. He comforted you by patting your back and whispering how much he loves you.

“How are you feeling?”

You sniffled and looked up at Neil. Neil wiped your tears away and kissed your cheek. You smiled and basked in his love, “I’m doing better thanks.”

“Why don’t we do something that’ll cheer you up. I mean you look so beautiful I don’t want this beauty to go to waste.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Neil grabbed your hand and brought you to an unknown store named, “Hana.”

“Hmm what is he up to?”

After a few minutes Neil came out of the store. He hid something behind his back, his dimples showing on his handsome face as he grins at you.

“Another surprise?” You asked as you tried to see behind him.

“Here its for you, to make you feel better.” Neil pulled the gift from behind. It was a bouquet of roses.

You felt like crying...again! This man treated you so spectacularly. He treated you like a princess, always wanting you to feel happy. It was silence, you looked at the roses and started to tear up, “they are so beautiful babe.”

“I thought you needed some cheering up. A gift to show you how much you mean to me.”

You smelled the roses but then placed them delicately in the bag. You placed both your hands on Neil’s face and inched closer to him, “I love you so much.”

Your lips joined in unison. You opened your mouth wider to kiss more fiercely. You moaned in the kiss, “I love you so much. I love you so much.”

You two separated and Neil brought you protectively close to him. His arms feeling like a comforting cage around you, they were thick and strong. “I love you too baby.”

You two walked together, enjoying the rest of the night and not caring about any body else except you two’s love.

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @andreaoreas, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @fangirl-4-life415

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

#the good doctor #fanfiction #race neutral reader #the good doctor imagine #dr neil melendez #neil melendez #neil melendez x reader #x reader #neil melendez imagine #imagines #requested #i love this man so much like WOWWWWEEEEE #he is like a prince #i loved writing this #we all need more tgd #tgd #tgd imagine

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saigebeaumontt · 6 years ago

Text

( danielle rose russell, cisfemale, she/her ) I, FREYA KAVINSKY am a SCHOLARSHIP student and would hereby like to submit my application to Kingswood Boarding School. I am SEVENTEEN years old and will be a JUNIOR. I would describe myself as HEARTFELT and EAGER, but also UNINHIBITED and PIGHEADED which I plan to work on during my time here. This is my request to join the VICTORIA building as a house MEMBER and look forward to hearing back from you.

im trash ik but here’s a brand new baby to play w!! her pinterest can be found HERE pls ignore the photos of crystal reed, that’s freya’s original fc sdfghj

tw; death, drug/alcohol abuse? w/ implications of self destruction

so first thing’s first, freya was born n raised in chicago alongside her father and her older sister

her mother had died during freya’s birth--though freya doesn’t...blame herself, necessarily, there are days where she imagines what life would’ve been like if her mother was still alive

her dad’s a mechanic and the sole provider for their household, which meant that he was gone more often than not

regardless, he tried to be as active as possible in his children’s lives

her sister always took up the role of..well, mother, in a sense

freya and her are incredibly close b/c of this

even so--her father had wanted them to be as active as possible, as out of the house as he was--so it didn’t seem like he was gone as much as he was

so, with a few strings pulled and familial connections, freya was able to attend ballet lessons at a young age, alongside an instrument of her choosing, at a discounted price

she chose violin btw...very relevant

and like, to everybody’s surprise--she sort of excelled at both--it almost came naturally, though that didn’t mean she hadn’t put in a buncha effort regardless, y’know

practice makes perfect, yadda yadda

took up a few more instruments for fun, such as piano and like...i dunno, guitar of various forms (including bass guitar) though she likes violin the best

that led to her attending a p prestigious performing arts high school in her city--which wasn’t done by pulling strings

her father worked even more shifts, her sister got a job to help pitch in, they took out loans, yadda yadda. anything they could do so she could pursue this...dream

except...ballet and violin has never been freya’s dream--its just something she happens to be good at

everybody just...assumed, that since she was so talented, she had to want to pursue it

not the case at all, really. she loves it, really, but...her passion has always surrounded animals

specifically marine animals, which is odd considering freya had never seen the ocean before

really...marine anything, she loves. maybe it’s because its something she hasn’t experienced , but ykno

ANYWAYS

she felt sort of...stuck, b/c she never wanted to disappoint her dad or her sister or any of their family friends who were all rootin’ for her

this led to some...rebellion, of sorts, when she was a freshmen

nothing...BAD, per say, but y’know. baseball bats to mailboxes whilst hanging out of the window of a pick-up truck, vandalizing abandoned buildings and historical monuments, shoplifting from convenience stores.

okay so like...a little bad

that was just the crowd she found herself in, y’know, in her teenage angst

has definitely been arrested a few times, but has always managed to get off scotch free ??

it’s luck, im telling u. she only has like..three things on her record rn

ALSO learned how to ride a motorcycle and was in a punk band based in her school n did bass for it, ‘cos that’s what rebellious teenagers do n whatever

and this, well, y’know. did disappoint her father and her sister and all their family friends but at this point freya was like ?? i can’t stop

her boyfriend at the time was a major contributor to her troublemaking tbh

when he transferred to kingswood, freya’s lil 15 yr old heart was broken.

spent her entire sophomore yr working her ass off and getting her shit together so that kingswood would look at her, and pick her, too--

and like...it finally paid off, y’know? her junior year they’d graciously given her a scholarship based off of her music AND academics

so she was absolutely thrilled

granted, she was only able to start attending halfway thru her junior year, at the beginning of the second semester...but she was there, at least, right?

very ecstatic to find her boyfriend and surprise him

they’d been doing long distance, and he had no idea that she had gotten in

found out his dorm number, walked right up to his door--knocked, and he answered with his shirt off n a number of hickeys on his chest

it was a surprise for both of them lmao

obv. freya is not stupid, if not a lil blinded by love at the time. they broke up, she was heartbroken

sorta shut herself in for a few months ‘cos she was so sad abt it

so it’s kinda like she’s still new, tho it’s been a few months since january

but she’s BACK and she’s POPPIN’ and she acts like it still doesn’t bother her !

but like...it does. it rly does. she’s still mcfreakin’ hurt abt it, she’s just handling it in another way

aka, a lil bit of partying...a lil bit of drinking, casual drug use, hooking up, etc. etc. just bein that bitch, y’know?

ANYWAYS

has always had a lil bit of a tomboy aesthetic ?? despite being a freakin’ ballerina, it just not her aesthetic man

constantly wearin’ dark colors n reds and leather jackets n denim on denim n cuffin’ her pants n whatnot

even brought her motorcycle 2 school w/ her

EXCELS at science, wants to become a marine biologist or smth when she’s older

just...hasn’t told anybody that

DON’T B FOOLED BY HER APPEARANCE THO

she’s not some antisocial punk, okay, she’s not anna

very humble but not in a way where u have to be like ‘ugh u have talent u idiot’ , she just doesn’t like bragging about it ?

even tho her ex is an idiot she’s still glad to be there bc of how prestigious kingswood is

kinda tries 2 befriend as many ppl as possible ?? she isn’t a people pleaser, though, n it’s sort of like...u get what u get, w/ her

she doesn’t act as if she’s got a whole separate life or nothin’, she balances both her rebellious nature and her talents n w/e

fun fact her mother was a leader of elizabeth but like...does she know? no. does it matter? only to ppl like lilah smh

ANYWAYS AGAIN

i’d consider her like....a gryffindor, to sum up her personality ??

very brave, fearless, can be stupidly reckless. gets herself into trouble even now

prolly is a lil bit of a hoe but we love that for her, okay ??

but also ?? will die for her pals ?? n is very true to herself ??

we call her accidentally messy

neutral good tbh ?? very wholesome person

will take care of u if ur sick, is v protective of those she loves

also doesn’t rly....believe in love rn, or is at least very over the concept.

girl next door ?? i dunno

sometimes...she does these bad things...’cos she thinks she deserves it, in a way?

like she’ll drink too much n get a real bad hangover or do a drug when she knows she’ll have a bad trip

so she’s got a lil bit of self loathing

however she knows it’s a problem

she’s just...not willing 2 do much abt it rn

living her best life lmao

ambivert, will go to parties but will also sit in w/ a book gladly

can b v v stubborn, is in debate b/c she loves...to argue, sometimes sksk

m8 i dunno she’s got layers..like an onion

wanted connections

her...ex would be nice, however it’s prolly better suited to send in as a WC unless there’s a dude from chicago out here whose made the mistake of cheatin’

HOWEVER, i would love pals !! friends of any sort !! she’s friendly !! like her !!

ride or die!

unlikely pals!

good influences!

bad influences!

she’s in a band w/ ezra im p sure

i ALSO would like hook ups!

accidental hookups!

casual hookups!

fwbs ?!?

Bad. hookups!

she’s probably accidentally hooked up w/ somebody’s partner so

enemies ! for w/e reason !

rivals!

frenemies!

fake friends !?

everything!

gimme everything !!

#kings:intro #like this n i'll come plot w/ u!!#this is saige's old blog im not changin' shit except her name n icon but i'll...get to it eventually

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chroniccombustion · 6 years ago

Text

Caught in the Grey (ch 2)

Genre: Trans!AU, hurt/comfort, romance, angst with a happy ending Rated: T Characters: Souji Seta (Yu Narukami), Yosuke Hanamura, Naoto Shirogane, Investigation Team, Izanagi/Shadow!Souji Warnings: depression, dysphoria, disassociation, self-hatred, implied suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, mentions of homophobia, implied past child abuse and transphobia, canon-typical violence, mild sexual content Status: multi-chapter, incomplete

Playlist: Spotify | Youtube <- previous chapter | next chapter ->

The light has changed from dingy blue-grey to anxious pink by the time he realigns himself, creeping along the wall to spill down across the floor. There is a twisting sensation low in his stomach, a burning in the back of this throat. He runs his leaden tongue across his gums and they tingle in response. The ache is still there in every limb, echoed by a shaky feeling that makes his world feel like it’s slipping in and out of solidity.

He flips open his phone with his thumb. 7:19am the screen now reads, as well as a flashing notice from half an hour ago, proclaiming, 1 new message.

Shirogane-kun: SENPAI PLS CALL ME

Chapter 2: Been a Long Damn Day

“From the beach to the city, I been putting on a face. You’re no stranger to a mask, you ain’t lost or amazed. I been lost in a maze, been a long damn day, I been lost in a maze, been a long damn day…”

- (“Sinking”, Jeremy Zucker)

Shirogane-kun: SOUJI-SENPAI WHERE R U?

Shirogane-kun: R U OK?

Shirogane-kun: PLS RESPOND

Shirogane-kun: SENPAI PLS I AM WORRIED

4 missed calls from Shirogane-kun

Aibo: bro u ok? wtf happened?

Aibo: no srsly wth? what was that?

Aibo: prtnr we cant find u where did u go?

Aibo: shit the girls pageant is starting we cant leave

Aibo: not funny bro

Aibo: call me back man cmon ur freakin me out

Aibo: souji?

7 missed calls from Aibo

14 new messages, 9 missed calls from Kanji-kun, ~*Rise!*~, Amagi Yukiko, Satanaka Chie, TEDDIE

Souji stares down at the phone in his hand, squinting against the brightness of the screen in the pre-dawn gloom. 5:42am, it reads. Fantastic.

He shifts his weight to lean more against the side of the couch rather than the chilly wall and groans involuntarily when his entire body protests. He’s stiff, cold, and his everything is angry with him for sleeping on the floor. His uniform pants are still on from yesterday, though he has no idea just where his shirt and jacket went – or the flesh-colored bit of fabric that he wears underneath. At some point after running home in a blind, dissociative panic he knows he must have pulled them off because he remembers being shirtless before properly passing out, so, theoretically, they must be in the room with him somewhere. He doesn’t have the energy to look.

As long as his pants are still on.

As exhausted as he is, (mentally, physically, emotionally,) he knows he won’t be able to get back to sleep at this rate. He can’t work up the energy to pull out the futon or change into real pajamas, and besides, he’d just have to get right back up for school again soon after. His body aches too much to let him relax anyway.

So Souji sits there, folded over on himself in the corner between the couch and wall, and doesn’t read the slew of missed texts from his worried friends. He can’t; their escalating concern leaves a guilty stone in his stomach on top of the embarrassment he already feels. He knows they’ll be upset with him for not telling them where he is, that he’s okay, and it spikes his anxiety just thinking about it – which just makes it all the more impossible to open the rest of the texts. He’d barely made it through Naoto’s, forced himself to read Yosuke’s, before he’d had to quit.

Something else, though, is the quiet, creeping dread that has nestled into his already-anxious heart. He can’t read the rest, can’t bring himself to respond and ease their worry because he doesn’t know what to say. How can he possibly explain to his friends why he bolted like a frightened cat for seemingly no reason? They’d want to know what set him off, why it had caused such a violent reaction, and every reason Souji can think of just leads his brain deeper and deeper down the winding rabbit hole of Things He Doesn’t Want to Talk About.

How is he supposed to tell them what brought about his soul-shattering panic attack without revealing everything else?

Still. If he stays silent for too much longer then he’ll lose the window of opportunity to try and play this whole thing off as something they shouldn’t worry about. He also potentially runs the risk of one of them reporting him missing, or even just straight up going to his uncle. There is no easy way to go about handling this garbage fire of a situation and trying to think of ways to avoid it is only making everything so much worse inside his head.

Souji lolls his head back and watches the encroaching dawn slither through his windows and play across the wall across from him. It’s the only light in the room aside from his phone. Eventually, that, too, goes dark.

He flips open his phone with his thumb. 7:19am the screen now reads, as well as a flashing notice from half an hour ago, proclaiming, 1 new message.

Shirogane-kun: SENPAI PLS CALL ME

He… wants to. Out of all his friends, Naoto would be the safest one to talk to right now. They know, and he wouldn’t have to think up some excuse as to why he fled from school the way he did. It would be… refreshing, he thinks, to finally be honest about a situation like this. (He also shamefully knows that of everyone he still owes an explanation to, he may have frightened Naoto the most. After all they’ve done for him the past two days, he owes them at least this much.)

His thumb only hesitates over the call button for a moment – just one – before he shakily presses it down. The line picks up on the second ring.

“Senpai! Oh thank god; are you alright? Where are you?’

Souji winces at the desperation in his friend’s voice. “I’m fi—“ He swallows against the dryness in this throat, hesitant to say “fine,” because he really, probably isn’t. He hasn’t been fine for days. “I’m alive,” he finally settles on. “I woke up at home but I don’t remember getting here.” There’s no point in lying, and it feels good – if only a little – to admit even the tiniest bit of weakness to someone he knows won’t use it against him.

There is a pause on the other end of the line. “You… ‘woke up’,” Naoto slowly repeats. “How long have you been there?”

“I don’t know. The whole time, I think.”

Naoto sighs and it sounds like a rush of tension being released. “Alright. Alright, it’s worrying that you do not remember, but at least you’re safe.”

There is another pause, a longer one this time, that Souji doesn’t know how to fill. When Naoto finally speaks again, their voice is tiny, quiet, sounding so very young and sad that it damn near wrenches Souji apart.

“…Senpai, you scared me. I knew something must have happened but...”

There’s no one there to see it in the dark, but Souji instinctively hangs his head, shame and guilt lashing at his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Something that sounds suspiciously like a sniffle comes over the line before Naoto vehemently says, “Don’t apologize. I know what panic can do to the mind, and I suspect you were not in complete control at the time. I just wish I could have helped.”

“You’ve already done more than enough,” he says, because it’s true.

Naoto doesn’t seem to agree. “What I have done is paltry compared to what needed to be done. I try not to make deductions about the Team anymore, but I imagine you require a great deal more support right now than a pack of makeup wipes.”

He doesn’t respond to that. He doesn’t exactly know how he can.

Naoto sighs again, this time sounding more frustrated than relieved. “I… That was invasive of me, I apologize.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, but your patience with me is appreciated anyway.”

They go quiet for a bit, and Souji can hear faint noises in the background – rustling cloth, the creak of leather. He is reminded that it’s early-o-clock on a school day and that Naoto is probably in the middle of getting ready to leave.

“Souji-senpai?” they finally say, soft and cautious. If Souji were to have any other siblings beyond Nanako, he thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind having Naoto as family.

“I’m still here,” he answers, and it feels like a drop of warmth. He thinks he might smile if he wasn’t so drained still.

“Do you… need to talk about it? Whatever it was that happened, I mean.”

He thinks. Yes, in a way he does, if only to let Naoto in the way they deserve to be. It would be nice to get it off his chest, to have someone understand, but at the same time he doesn’t think he can. Telling Naoto – while safe – would also mean reliving the gut-dropping horror of Teddie’s words. Souji has just barely gotten purchase in the real word again, shaky as it is, and he’d rather not have that tentative stability taken away again. So he takes a breath and lets it out slowly through his nose.

“I… probably,” he says, “but I’d rather not think about it anymore.”

Naoto hums. “I understand. Sometimes it’s better that way.”

There is more shuffling. Then, “I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?”

Souji huffs – a quiet laugh that isn’t exactly a laugh but is closer than he usually gets. “I don’t think so,” he assures them. “You’re trying; that’s more than I’m used to.”

He thinks he probably shouldn’t have said that. He can’t bring himself to dwell on it right now.

A low, displeased sound comes through the earpiece, and Souji can vividly picture the stern furrow of Naoto’s brows, their lips pressed into a thin, stony line. Yeah. He really shouldn’t have said that.

Thankfully they seem to let it go (though he’s pretty sure Naoto never lets anything go and is just filing it away for later,) because the next words he hears from them are, “Did you sleep at all?”

“Uhm. A little. I think so, at least.” It certainly wasn’t long or well, but he isn’t going to mention that.

Another low, wordless sound. “Have you eaten?”

Oh.

He thinks back to the way his stomach had purged itself the day before last, how he’d been too dead inside to eat breakfast or even pack lunch yesterday. No wonder his body feels weak and shaky, his skull tight behind his eyes.

He swallows. “I… no. Not since… no.”

“Senpai.”

“I think… I might need to stay home today,” he whispers sheepishly. He feels like a child facing down the disapproving stare of an older sibling – which throws him a little since Naoto is younger than he is. He can’t tell if it’s comforting or just plain unsettling. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Do you want me to tell the others you have food poisoning?”

He startles. “That…” He clears his throat to try and regain himself. He’s surprised by how easily Naoto is able to handle this, how quickly they volunteer to cover for him. He hates that he’s surprised. He thinks Naoto would hate that he’s surprised as well.

“You’d do that?” he whispers, unable to hide the slight tremble of grateful awe.

Naoto’s voice is kind, gentle like warm water on an aching body when they say, “I’ll tell them whatever you need me to, Senpai, and nothing else.”

Souji makes a sound that he’s pretty sure is wet and mildly hysterical. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Senpai. I mean that truly.”

He lets out a long, slow breath, careful not to do so directly into the phone, and lets the feeling of something safe and grateful and happy wash over him; like a place to rest when exhaustion peaks, or the warmth of a fire chasing away cold misery. Or, he thinks with a tiny smile, the glowing, sparkling, champagne-fizzy feeling that a bond sends zinging through his veins whenever its rank has risen.

Comfortable quiet reigns as the rank up run its course.

All too soon though, reality returns and through the phone speaker there comes a clock chime from somewhere in the background. Naoto makes a muffled sound as they apparently take their phone away from their ear for a moment.

“Do I need to let you go?” Souji asks when it seems like Naoto can hear him again.

They sigh. “Possibly. Will you be alright?”

He pauses. Aside from how shitty he feels due to lack of proper sleep and no food for two days, he feels… lighter. The anxiety from before has calmed somewhat now that he no longer has to drag his protesting body to school and face down his friends. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s nice to find that he means it. “I’ll be alright. I’ll…” he huffs – the faintest hint of a chuckle, “…spend the day recovering, probably.”

Naoto hums again. “Good, do that.” A beat of silence. Then, “Thank you for calling me, Senpai. If you hadn’t I was planning on coming by your house after school.” They make an odd noise that Souji thinks might be an audible expression of discomfort. “I would have done so yesterday, to be honest, had Kashiwagi-sensei not hauled us all off to change for the beauty pageant.”

Oh hell. He’d forgotten about the second pageant. He winces as he realizes just how awful it must have been for his friends – Naoto especially. “I am so sorry,” he says, his voice a rush of breath. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that; after everything you did for me, I should have stayed to support you—“

But Naoto cuts him off. “Senpai, it’s alright. Panic and the mind, remember? Don’t apologize.” They make the noise of discomfort again, and Souji thinks he can almost hear the way Naoto’s face scrunches up when they deeply dislike something. “Obviously I survived, though it was… unpleasant,” they say, tone flat and unamused. “I won.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yes, I would like very much for that to never happen again to either of us.”

There is a muffled voice on Naoto’s end of the line and Souji hears what might be a hand covering the receiver. Naoto says something in return, though Souji doesn’t catch it. A few seconds pass before Naoto returns. “I’m afraid I have to leave now, Senpai. Would it be alright for me to text you during lunch to check on you?”

Souji feels the edges of his mouth stretching upwards, just slightly. He can’t remember if he’s ever smiled as much as he has in recent months. “If you want to,” he replies. “I’ll be okay, though; I just need to eat something.”

“Please do.” A sigh. “Take care, Senpai.”

“You, too.”

Naoto makes one last short noise of affirmation before the line disconnects and Souji is left to stare down at the call’s time stamp on his dimly glowing screen. 7:38. He’ll be late if he wants to try and make it to school.

He isn’t going to.

Looking up at the room around him he is surprised to find the morning light has started to fill it properly – more gold now than blue or pink. It’s brighter than yesterday, when it was a pale, sickly yellow reflecting the way his body felt like lead and his head like poison. He stretches his arms upwards, grunting as several things pop. Maybe today will be better, he thinks; maybe his mind got its fill of blackness over the past 48 hours and will leave him alone today.

Deciding that a good place to start would be finally acknowledging how empty his stomach is, Souji pulls himself to his feet and braces himself against the back of the couch as the waves of dizziness roll over him. He lets them pass, then pushes off the couch, shaky and weak. He’s glad it sounds like no one else is home – he’d hate to try and explain why he was hugging the wall on his way down the stairs. He steels himself, plants his weight on the balls of his feet as best he can, and slowly starts to make his way down towards the kitchen.

He only pauses once for breath at the bottom of the stairs, taking the opportunity to change his newest friend’s name in his phone from “Shirogane-kun” to “Naoto”.

He feels along the bond of the Wheel of Fortune arcana and smiles at the newfound strength glowing back at him.

---

Souji expects school the next day to be an awkward affair, and to some degree it is. Thankfully no one outside the IT seemed to really notice his terrified escape two days prior; or, at least, no one outside his friend group says anything. He does, however, catch a few whispers floating around as he passes certain groups of people – whispers that sound suspiciously like they’re about the cross dressing pageant and how “good” he looked on stage, usually from tight clusters of giggling girls or between the odd pair of jittery-looking guys. He does his best not to listen.

The real unease, though, sets in when he slips into his seat in the classroom and Yukiko, Chie, and Yosuke – who is here early for once – all turn to look at him. He tries to give them a reassuring smile but it feels just as forced as it actually is. Yosuke especially seems unconvinced.

Luckily the teacher walks in just as Souji feels the back of his head starting to smoke from how intensely Yosuke is staring, so he’s spared having to face his partner just yet.

Unluckily, this just means that by the time lunch rolls around, Yosuke wastes no time in poking Souji’s shoulder to get him to turn around. Slowly, Souji does so, and fixes his best friend with a shaky half-smile. He’s so tired of his nerves running at full capacity.

“Hey,” he says, a little less steady than he’d like.

Yosuke raises a brow at him. “Hey, yourself. What the hell, man? Why didn’t you text me back?”

Besides them, Yukiko nods in agreement and Chie opens her mouth to join the conversation.

Souji doesn’t wait for her to speak. “Did Naoto tell you what happened?” It’s partially a stalling tactic – something he hates being so good at anymore – and partially to see what they think went down so that he can build a believable story off it. Naoto had messaged him during lunch the day before, as they said they would, and given him a rundown of the excuse they had spun for him, but he doesn’t want to just play off that. Yosuke is too observant for his own good sometimes, and his ego is fragile enough that Souji knows he’ll need to be extra careful when trying to lie his way around his best friend’s suspicion.

It’s Yukiko that answers. “Naoto-kun said you went home because you weren’t feeling well, and that was why you weren’t at school yesterday.” She tilts her head, dark eyes narrowing in concern. “But you disappeared so suddenly! You seemed fine before.”

“Yeah,” Chie exclaims, nodding vigorously. “One minute you were in the classroom with us and the next you were just gone!”

“And tearing down the hallway like the building was on fire. Seriously, bro, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.” A flicker of worry passes over Yosuke’s face before it settles back into the oddly pinched look he’s been wearing. He stares at Souji with creased brows and a downturned mouth. “And apparently you just left? You didn’t even stay to see the girls! I woulda thought you’d at least wanna cleanse your eyes after seeing Kanji in a dress.”

Souji feels his face turn stony. When Chie makes a noise of offence and smacks Yosuke in the back of the head, Souji makes no move to intercept.

Instead, he chooses to look at Yukiko when he speaks, as though he’s answering questions in turn. “I was fine for a while.” He has enough to work with, he thinks. Maybe. Naoto has laid the groundwork for him to (hopefully) weasel his way out of this without too many roadblocks. He chooses a middle path between lying (he doesn’t like lying to friends now that he has them) and the truth (because no, no, not in a million years, no) and works the half-truths through a set of carefully constructed loopholes. He’s become far too good at loopholes.

He tugs at his own expression until it resembles something sheepish. His nerves help it look more real. “I made the mistake of not eating anything yesterday because I was nervous.” (Not a lie.) “Naoto actually found me in the bathroom… throwing up stomach acid.” (Also not a lie, as long as he doesn’t tell them when Naoto found him in the bathroom.) He looks away and rubs at a spot just behind his ear. He’s aware that it makes him look embarrassed – which is fine – but it also gives him an excuse not to keep eye contact.

Chie and Yukiko both make sounds of distress, talking at him and over each other in their concern and he thinks he may have managed to fool them. He glances at Yosuke and, yeah, no, that’s not convincement looking back at him.

“So you bolted cuz you had to go throw up?” Yosuke asks, his voice thinly tinted with disbelief.

Lay it thicker, maybe I can shock him into buying it.

Souji nods. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he says to all of them, but directly at Yosuke to make sure his partner feels special here. He stifles a grimace at how manipulative he has to be – how much of a coward he knows he’s being. He hates this. “I screwed up and made myself sick. By the time I got home I was in such bad shape that all I could do was lay down and pass out. I didn’t even wake up until yesterday morning.”

Again, it’s not technically a lie, even if he more disassociated than “passed out,” and he doesn’t actually remember anything from his panic attack. He’s aware that when the story gets around to the kohai, Rise will likely blame herself for insisting he participate in the pageant. A tiny peek over at Yukiko and Chie’s faces tells him that they’re feeling a little guilty, too. He hates this. He hates it.

And he especially hates the tiny little piece of him that whispers, “good.”

Trying to swallow the guilt in his own gut, Souji places his hands on his knees and bows low in his seat. It’s the last card he can play without despising himself entirely, and the final touch to what he hopes is a believable enough story.

Chie says something to him that Souji only barely listens to, while Yukiko puts a hand to her mouth and gives him a look like a sad puppy as he slowly sits up. Yosuke, however, seems unsure. His mouth is open slightly like he wants to say something, and he looks torn between worry and confusion.

Deflect. Distract.

Souji puts on a self-depreciating smile. “I’m really sorry, Partner,” (because he knows Yosuke is weak to the nickname), “I left right after Naoto found me. I would have said something but I was afraid I’d have to answer to Kashiwagi if she caught me trying to leave.” He twists his face into something that might be a non-verbal “yikes.”

And that’s what does the trick.

Yosuke’s expression switches to a more exaggerated version of Souji’s own. “Oh god. Smart thinking, man, she probably would’ve made you stay even if you’d throw up on her.” He shudders. “Her in a swimsuit is gonna haunt my nightmares forever.”

Souji actually balks at that. “Swimsuit?” has asks, genuinely aghast as he looks to Chie for confirmation. Oh. Well hell, now he feels even worse for leaving Naoto to their fate the other day.

Chie nods. “Yeah, we had to go up there in swimsuits and dresses and everything. It was humiliating.”

The way Souji’s face contorts in unbridled, empathetic discomfort is completely real and completely involuntary. “I am so sorry.”

Yukiko looks at him, puzzled. “Why? You didn’t sign us up.” She and Chie both shoot Yosuke a look that could curdle blood.

“Oh come on!” Yosuke sputters in response. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

Something tightens in Souji’s chest and, not for the first time, he wishes he had the courage to shut Yosuke’s bullshit down. But he doesn’t, so he doesn’t, and the trickle of self hate from earlier drips just a little bit faster.

Souji bites down hard on the inside of his cheek.

“At least everything you wore was meant for girls,” Yosuke is saying, holding his hands up as though trying to placate a snarling dog. It seems to be going about as well as expected.

He turns his head to shoot Souji a look that says ‘back me up’ but Souji simply raises an eyebrow at him. He might not be brave enough to tell his best friend off for being a prick, but he also has no desire to get pulled into the hole Yosuke is digging right now.

Yosuke seems to understand that Souji isn’t going to help him, because his face is distinctly paler when he turns back to the girls and says, “You wanna talk humiliating, us guys had it so much worse in drag!”

Wrong move.

Yosuke lets out a squawk as the girls rightfully begin to tear into him like feral cats; Chie with her fist and Yukiko with words like daggers. Souji lets it happen.

Silently, he digs out his bento and tries very hard not to be bitter. About the way Yosuke’s words leave a weird hot-stinging sensation in Souji’s chest, about how no one seems inclined to apologize for signing him up for the pageant; just… everything.

He squashes the thoughts back down before they can affect his outward expression. It’s fine, it’s okay, everything is okay; he doesn’t feel childishly irritated over the whole damn situation. He just wants the subject dropped.

“I should go apologize to the others,” he says as he stands. No one seems to really hear him, but Yukiko does spare him a nod as he passes. Chie is too busy digging her knuckles into Yosuke’s scalp to notice him leaving.

He heads out the door, bento in hand, and starts in the direction of the stairwell. He really does plan on apologizing to Kanji and Rise at some point today – and Teddie, too, of course, though Souji stills feels shaky at the thought of talking to him just yet – but for now he really just wants to find Naoto. He hopes they like onigiri; out of all his friends, Naoto is the only one he hasn’t yet had a chance to make lunch for, and food will be a good way to start thanking them properly now that the chaos has mostly died down.

It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with Souji finding his own appetite gone for the third time in several days.

---

Lunch with Naoto is a welcome break from the tension of his own classroom. He tries to apologize in person – because it’s more polite than over the phone – but Naoto doesn’t let him. Instead, they wave away his attempt with a light flush on their face and pull down their cap to hide it. It doesn’t quite work. Still, the air between the two of them is surprisingly easy to breathe and Souji feels the last of the jitters drain from his limbs.

They talk a bit. It isn’t for very long, since Souji had spent the first third of the lunch period spinning his not-story for Chie, Yukiko, and Yosuke, but the conversation is easier than he’s used to and he realizes with a kind of happy warmth that it’s because he isn’t having to hide. He doesn’t need to keep his voice in check, keep it purposefully low and quiet, so he’s actually able to talk a little more than he usually does and not worry what will happen if he lets his vocal chords do as they want. He’s practiced for years at this point, anyway, so the danger is minimal, but sometimes, sometimes his throat starts to hurt when he tries for a tone just the wrong side of comfortable.

He’s even managed to regain some of his appetite by the time the end of lunch rolls around and together, he and Naoto make a decent-sized dent in the humble bento. (It turns out that, yes, Naoto does in fact like onigiri, and that the seasoned rice with tuna is their unexpected favorite.) Naoto thanks him but he turns the tables and waves their thanks away in a similar fashion to what they’d done with his apology. They part with plans to spend lunch together again before the week is over and Souji finds he’s wearing the same small, genuine smile that only seems to come out because of Naoto.

He’s almost late getting back because he actually runs into Rise on the way to his classroom and takes the opportunity to apologize to her, too. She does start to blame herself, just like he thought she might, but a well placed smile that he knows makes her blush and a few words of reassurance have her giving him a watery smile in return. He makes it back just in the nick of time with one more friendship smoothed over.

The second half of the day is… interesting. Things seem to have gone back to relatively normal between him and Yukiko and Chie. Chie asks him how it went right before the teacher walks in and Souji flashes her a quick thumbs up. She grins.

No, everything is fine with the girls; it’s Yosuke that appears to still have issues. On any other day his best friend would be poking him in the back with the top of a pencil, tapping him in the side with a note he was passing, whispering snarky commentary about something one of their teachers says, but today…

Souji wants to ask just how badly Chie knuckled him, but he thinks that may be the least of the reasons why Yosuke isn’t interacting like he normally does. A lump forms in Souji throat that refuses to go away no matter how many times he tries to swallow it down.

It takes forever but the final bell eventually rings and, nervous as he is about, well, everything anymore, Souji slides around in his seat to give his partner a smile. He tries to make it as real as he can, calling on all the good things he feels about Yosuke and tucking his earlier frustrations away for the time being. As much of an ass as Yosuke can be, he’s still Souji’s best friend, and Souji would very much like that dynamic back now, if possible. He misses normal.

Just as he opens his mouth to ask if Yosuke wants to walk home together, the other boy stands and slings his bag over his shoulder. Yosuke hurries out of the room, only pausing briefly to turn around and walk backwards while flashing Souji a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I gotta get ready for work, I’ll see ya later, Partner!” And then he’s dashing out the door with one last, “I’m glad you’re better, dude!”

It hurts a bit, like a bruise he accidentally smacked that now throbs a dull rhythm. But, he supposes he might deserve it after the scare he gave everybody, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Yosuke were still upset about Souji not letting him know he was alright. He also can’t actually say his partner doesn’t have an after-school shift, so in the end Souji resigns himself to that little spark of pain and vows to text Yosuke later before he goes to bed. Maybe he’ll bring another lunch to share tomorrow. Just to be safe.

He stays and talks to Yukiko and Chie for a few minutes before Yukiko remembers that she has to go help set up for a large business dinner being held at the inn that night. Chie offers to walk with her and Souji bids them both farewell.

The biggest surprise of the day, however, is finding Kanji waiting by his shoe locker, looking more than a little trepidatious.

At first Souji thinks it’s about his disappearing act the other day; after all, Kanji is the only schoolmate he still owes an apology to. (Teddie is, again, a different matter altogether.) So Souji puts on the appropriate facial expression and readies himself to repeat the story one more time.

“Kanji, hi,” he says, nodding when his friend looks up at his approach.

Kanji stands up straighter from where he’s been leaning against he side of the lockers, but he keeps his arms across his chest like a shield. “H-hey, Senpai.” He looks away and doesn’t say anything more.

Taking that as his cue to start, Souji politely tilts his head and puts on the familiar sheepish expression. “I should apologize—“

“You busy right now?”

Souji blinks stupidly. He closes his mouth with a quiet ‘click’ and takes a second to recover from being cut off and thrown wildly off-balance.

Kanji flushes. “Sorry, Senpai, I just…” He clears his throat and looks back up, shoulders squaring. “I gotta talk to somebody about somethin’ and you’re kinda the only person I trust with it.”

Souji’s eyes go impossibly wider. He feels his brows somewhere up near his hairline and absently wonders where his perfect control over his own face went. “I…” he starts, still not entirely reoriented. He quickly switches gears and tries to tuck the confusion away to make room for Friend Mode. “O…kay?”

Well. It’s something. He clears his throat and stars again, the smallest of frowns creeping along his mouth. “Is everything alright? You know I’ll help in any way I can.”

Kanji gives him nothing but a stiff nod and poorly concealed nerves.

Souji keeps a tight leash on his expression. “Okay, well, let me get my shoes and we can walk together?” he tries. He not sure if he should be anxious or not but whatever Kanji needs him for, Souji knows that he’ll at least feel more at ease somewhere further away from school.

“Oh!” Kanji startles a little and steps far enough back that Souji can get to his locker. “Right. Sorry.”

Five minutes later sees them passing through the school gates, side by side in silence.

Without a clear destination, Souji simply steers them towards the floodplain. If the little seating area is free then that’s where he plans to take them; it’s a familiar enough place that he feels comfortable talking there, but also has plenty of open air so he can make a hasty – but polite – escape should he need to. He doesn’t like that his first reactions to half his friends these days have been self-debates on whether or not he can outrun them.

Kanji keeps fidgeting as they walk, like his fingers are tracing out knitting patterns to keep his mind busy. Souji doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Kanji so jittery when Naoto wasn’t nearby for his friend to sweat over. Their mutual crush is adorable in how obvious it is to everyone but them and Souji hopes one of them will make a move some day. They would make a good couple.

Matchmaking aside, Souji wonders if maybe he should try his apology once more – if only to break the cacophonous silence. He’s had more than enough silence from his own parents, thanks; he doesn’t like it from his friends.

The thought cuts a deep path through Souji’s chest and he grinds his teeth against it, though the pain is an old one and he’s long since grown accustomed to it. It’s been a while since his mind has turned to that particular dark corner.

(He tramples another thought before it can fully form – one that seems hell-bent on comparing certain old hurts with the newer ache of Yosuke apparently avoiding him.)

“I owe you an apology,” he says suddenly, his voice a bit too loud in his own ears. He turns his head to catch Kanji twitching like he’s been startled before looking over at Souji in confusion.

“Huh? What for?”

Souji keeps his features carefully schooled. “For what happened after the pageant. Running off and not telling anyone where I went.” He tilts his head and does not frown. “Freaking everyone out?”

“Oh, that.” Kanji rubs at the back of his neck. “I appreciate it, but you don’t gotta apologize to me, Senpai. Naoto and Rise both already filled me in.” He pauses to give Souji a long, appraising look. “How’re ya feelin’, by the way?”

That catches Souji off guard. It seems Kanji is just exceptionally good at that today. “I’m alright,” he says honestly. Once more, he avoids the word “fine” because that, to him, would imply more than just physical alright-ness and he just… doesn’t want to think about that anymore.

Kanji seems satisfied with his answer and turns back to watching the world in front of them. “Can’t say I wasn’t worried, ‘specially after seeing you bookin’ it down the hallway like that, but I figured you’d let someone know eventually.” He shrugs. “And if you didn’t me an’ Naoto were gonna go check out your house after school today.”

Souji actually chuckles at that, breath stuttering past his lips to form the sound. “So they told me.” He lets one corner of his mouth tug upward as he catches Kanji’s eye again. “Thank you. And I am sorry.”

Kanji flushes and looks away. “Nah, ‘s nothing.”

The rest of the walk is significantly less tense after that.

Subsequently, it’s also shorter than it had seemed a few minutes ago. They arrive not long after and Souji takes it upon himself to sit down and fold his hands over the tabletop, leaving Kanji to lean his hip against the opposite corner.

Well, here goes.

“Alright,” he says, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “What can I do to help?”

Kanji snorts, but it’s neither derogatory nor mirthful. He doesn’t look at Souji as he crosses his arms back over his chest. “Ain’t really somethin’ I need help with so much as I just need to... get it off my chest, ya know?” He frees one hand and makes a sharp, vague gesture near where his heart is. “I can’t keep it in anymore; I gotta tell somebody or I’m gonna go crazy and… well, I figured you’re the safest bet...”

Souji’s expression melts into something soft, warm, amiable. “Well thank you,” he says, genuinely a little touched, only for Kanji’s entire face to go cinnamon-red.

Kanji makes a noise of frustration, scrubbing furiously at his hair to hide his burning cheeks before just giving up and turning so that Souji is now staring at his back. “Damnit, that wasn’t—! UG.” He takes a moment to gather himself; Souji gives it to him. Eventually Kanji lets out a heavy breath and straightens up once more. He makes no move to turn around.

“Look, Senpai, you… You’ve always accepted me, yeah? You never treated me like I was some kinda delinquent or, or whatever Yosuke-senpai fuckin’ thinks I am—“

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Souji says, low and dark and steely. He feels the bitterness and self-dislike bubbling up from their deep-seated pools. Kanji is a good person – rough around the edges, yes, but still just a kid like the rest of them and a genuinely kind one at that. Souji hates how afraid he’s been of jeopardizing Yosuke’s opinion of him, of how he’s been too much of a coward to stand up for his younger friend and make Yosuke apologize for his homophobia. A team is only as good as its leader and Souji must really be a poor leader if he can’t even stop his own lieutenant from being a jerk.

It’s not just that you’re afraid of losing him as a friend, his mind whispers. You’re afraid of him finding out.

Souji glues his tongue to the roof of his mouth and clamps down on the horrible way his chest constricts.

Luckily Kanji is still facing away from him. “Y-yeah,” he agrees, oblivious to his senpai’s internal self-disgust. “Yeah, you’re cool like that. An’ that’s why you’re kinda my best bud.”

Oh, now that just makes Souji feel even worse. He’d forgotten that Kanji had told him that once, back when Naoto had first officially joined the IT, and hearing it again now is like a fist to the spine. He’s failed Kanji, he really has, he—

“And I mean! I know you an’ Yosuke-senpai are ‘partners’ or whatever, but I just… I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I trust you, Senpai.” Kanji sighs, the line of tension in his shoulders giving way. He tucks his hands into his pants pockets and stares at something out over the grey-sapphire shimmer of the river below.

Souji swallows. “Kanji…”

He doesn’t know what to say. What can he say, besides another useless “sorry”?

But Kanji just shakes his head and leans his weight back on his heels. He looks up at the sky, or maybe just lolls his head back in resignation, like a man coming to terms with the thousand-foot-drop that awaits him.

Souji knows the feeling.

“I think,” he says – and it’s so quiet that Souji has to lean forward to try and hear him better. There is a pause as Kanji takes a deep, long breath and lets it out.

“I think I might be bi.”

Souji is floored. Of all the possible things that Kanji could have just said to him, Souji was very much NOT excepting that to be one of them. It comes so far out of left field that it actually shocks all of Souji’s dark and guilty thoughts into absolute silence.

The quiet rings out between them, stretching into an impossibly long handful of seconds. Souji needs to respond, he knows he needs to, can see the way Kanji’s shoulders have started to tighten and hunch, but for the first time in forever Souji’s mind is empty and he cannot remember how to form words with his tongue.

So he just blinks like an owl and breathes out a soft, “…Oh.” Because really, how else can he react?

Something about how he says it has Kanji tentatively turning halfway around to look at him. Kanji’s face is guarded, like he’s ready at any moment to throw up his bravado, his shields, and the vulnerability it exposes is enough to finally, finally snap Souji back into action.

A warm smile spreads over Souji’s features, hardly even bidden, and he leans back to sit more naturally upright. He lets the smile crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you for telling me, Kanji.” He keeps his voice light, calm, kind; he is completely honest when he glances away and says, “I know how hard it must have been to say it out loud.”

Kanji’s eyes widen in realization. “Senpai… You, too?”

Souji makes a sound somewhere between a cough and a wispy bark of laughter. It’s stifled, but his shoulders jerk with the veiled force of the noise and he matches Kanji’s gaze with a tired, understanding one of his own. “Not bi, no,” he says pointedly, cocking an eyebrow and hoping it’s visible beneath his hair.

Kanji lets out a shaky breath. “Oh,” he echoes. He slides down onto the bench across from Souji, almost like he’s a block of ice melting in the sudden sunlight. “So you’re…?”

“Yeah.”

They sit in companionable silence for a minute, each processing the conversation so far.

After a few beats, Souji tilts his head curiously and asks, “What made you want to tell me?”

Oh, that…

Souji immediately dislikes how that sounded and his face twists minutely at the sour taste the words leave on his tongue. He hastily adds, “I’m honored that you did, don’t get me wrong, but—“

“Why’d I pick now?”

Souji sucks part of his lip between his teeth and nods.

Kanji sighs and leans back on the bench – which looks horribly uncomfortable, considering there’s nothing for his back to rest against. He re-crosses his arms and looks up at a passing cloud. “I started figuring it out a while ago and it’s been buggin’ me ever since. Like, it’s too big a secret to keep by myself, ya know?”

Souji does know. Oh god does he know.

He nods again, even though Kanji can’t see it properly while looking elsewhere. Kanji seems to catch it, though, because he keeps going.

“And after all that shit with my shadow, I just… I dunno. I’m sick of tryin’a hide from myself, so I thought, hey, this is a thing about me, might as well accept it.” He pauses and shifts awkwardly, clearly trying to consider his next words. His eyes flick over to Souji once or twice but he quickly averts them again right after.

Souji waits. He refuses to make this any more difficult for his friend than it already is.

He has a hard time keeping the surprise from his face, though, when Kanji mutters, “Weirdest part is, I knew but it didn’t really hit me until the stupid pageant.”

“The pageant?” Souji blurts. “How?!” Everything in his head scrambles a little, and there is a moment where he’s just gaping at Kanji like a fish with his mouth trying to form shapes and failing miserably.

He not sure how two people could have such wildly different reactions to that living nightmare of a day.

Kanji actually laughs at his outburst – a bit awkwardly, but still a laugh. “Yeah, the whole thing sucked ass, didn’t it?” He scratches at this cheek. “Kinda liked my dress, though…”

“It looked good on you,” Souji mumbles, still not fully recovered.

Kanji flushes and glances away. “Thanks, Senpai. You uh, you looked good, t—“ He trails off as he looks back over at Souji, eyes widening and brows furrowing.

Souji’s making a face; he knows he is, there’s no way he isn’t when there’s a layer of frost creeping its freezing fingers over his heart. He can feel the stretch of his lips over his teeth in a twisting grimace that’s well beyond his own control. Don’t think about it, please don’t think about it...

Kanji coughs into his fist. “Uh, I mean, you always look good, Senpai.” His expression does something funny, like he’s just realized what he’d said, and he apparently just gives up trying to salvage it. Instead, he props his elbows up on the table and drops his face into his hands. “Fuuuuuuuuck! See? That’s my problem! Naoto always looks good and you always look good, and I can’t catch a break!” He ‘thunks’ his forehead down onto the hard wooden tabletop. Souji hopes he hasn’t hurt himself.

Kanji’s voice is muffled when he says, “That ain’t a confession, I swear, I just think you’re handsome, same as everybody else does.”

Oh.

OH!

Souji’s expression does a 180 and he can feel himself beaming. He’d been scared; after what Teddie had said, Souji had been expecting Kanji to say something similar, to say his bisexual realization had come about because of Souji in costume. (He suppresses a shudder at that.) But no. Kanji had called him “handsome” instead, which meant – awkward friendly attraction aside – Kanji had found him attractive as a guy. Not because he’d been dressed as something he wasn’t, Kanji had seen him at face value: a guy in a costume.

If he wasn’t so certain that Naoto would pistol whip him, Souji thinks he could dive across the table towards Kanji right now and kiss him.

He reins it in and settles for chuckling instead. “I’m flattered.” And he really kind of is. His eyes are fond as he adds, “I’m proud of you, too.”

Kanji sits back up again and flashes Souji a sheepish – albeit heavily relieved – grin. “You’re somethin’ else, ya know that, Senpai?”

Souji just beams brighter and gives him a noncommittal shrug.

Kanji exhales, the remaining tension bleeding out into the dirt below their feet. “Damn. It feels good to let all that out.” He laughs again, the sound light and relaxed. “I was gonna tell my ma first, but I think she already knows.”

Souji nods. His mouth turns imperceptibly downward and he says, with just a touch of chill, “A good mother usually does.” He tightens his face against the way it wants to crumple, and if there is a new ball of bitter thorns in his stomach then he chooses to leave it be.

Kanji thankfully doesn’t notice the way Souji’s expression has turned plastic. “Yeah,” he agrees, “and she’s said stuff before about ‘bringing a girl or a boy over for dinner’. I thought she was talkin’ about friends at the time but now I’m not so sure.”

He matches Souji’s gaze right as Souji manages to school his face back into something more natural. “I’m real glad I told you first, though.”

Warmth settles in on top of the thorny clot of pain and soothes the worst of the jagged edges. It’s still there – has been for years – but it’s easier to manage than it was a minute ago. Souji huffs through his nose, his quiet little not-laugh, and looks down at the table. Maybe he’s being selfish, but it makes him feel special in a way he thinks might be just what he’s needed.

“Me, too,” he says, and relishes in the feeling of fizzing, giddy brightness as the Emperor arcana jumps up another rank.

---

Souji goes home in a better mood than he ever expected to be. He makes dinner, watches TV with Nanako, manages to get a head start on the schoolwork he’d missed the day before. The only damper on his happiness is the fact that, despite Souji texting him several times throughout the evening, Yosuke has yet to answer back.

The sting from that afternoon returns and Souji is left frowning at his phone screen as he lies on his futon before sleeping. It’s… fine, he tells himself. I deserve this for scaring him like that. I’m overreacting.

He sets the phone aside and turns over, determined not to let it get to him. He’s asleep in minutes – well before midnight – and so doesn’t notice when the sky starts to open and drizzle gentle rain over top the resting world.

He doesn’t even stir when the clock strikes twelve and his television crackles to white-static life, a faceless monochrome figure peering out into his room with lightning-colored eyes.

#fanfic #fanfiction #persona 4 #p4 #souji seta #yu narukami #trans souji seta #trans male character #yosuke hanamura #kanji tatsumi #naoto shirogane #investigation team #trans!au #scars on my sleeve #caught in the grey #tw past abuse #tw dysphoria #tw self hate

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