#also i know people hear the line as “toward the crack” but no matter what i always hear “heard” so i wrote it like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

midmourn · 1 year ago

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in every universe

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre fluff, angst, slice of life, suggestive cw suggestive words, brief mention of skz seungmin note soulmate au with dream 😈 mark: name on wrist renjun: anything on your sm’s skin shows up on yours jeno: first words on wrist haechan: red string of fate jaemin: share dreams chenle: timer on wrist jisung: color blind until you meet your sm. ( library )

mark is such a generic, common name that when you first realized it, you thought you’d never find the right mark. so when mark first introduces himself to you, you hesitate, wondering if he’s the one— but no, it can’t be. mark is too handsome, too sweet, too funny to be fated with you. it doesn’t matter that you feel all warm and fuzzy when he smiles at you. you can still have crushes, you just shouldn’t act on them. this is probably the only time you’ll see mark, anyway. it’s only when you tell him your name, his eyes widen in disbelief and he repeats your name in a breathy tone, “i … that’s crazy, that’s the name on my wrist.” when you don’t say anything, staring at him with wide eyes, he stares back and blinks. “oh. holy shit—”

renjun is embarrassingly desperate to show your admirers that you’re his soulmate. so desperate that he writes RENJUN on his forehead. and when he gets a call from you only a few minutes later, he smiles to himself, looking up at his reflection in the mirror and answering the call. you don’t even let him speak, “oh you’re so lucky i didn’t leave the house without looking at myself in the mirror! wash it off, now.” renjun laughs, leaning back in his desk chair, “do you think those guys will back off now?” there’s a silence on the other line before you speak, the eye roll so evident in your tone, “you really wrote your name on me so they’d stop flirting with me?” he hears shuffling on your end before your voice is clear again, smugly telling him, “go look in the mirror.” his cheeks flush when he sees all of the hearts with your name in them. he knows you think this is a way of getting back to him, but he likes the idea of other people just being able to tell he’s yours and you’re his.

“you could crack an egg on your abs” were singlehandedly the most flattering yet embarrassing words to have on jeno’s wrist. so just imagine having it come out of your mouth and only realizing it a split second later, clamping your hand over your mouth. did you really just say that? your disbelief grows when jeno then says all too casually, “think you could get off on them, too?” your mouth drops open in shock, cheeks flushing red as he stares back at you, equally surprised at the words coming from his mouth. “i—” he goes to apologize when your shoulders start to shake from laughter, putting your hand over your mouth. “oh, you’re never going to live this down.” jeno slowly joins in with your laughter, eyes scrunching as he stares at you. yeah, he thinks he could live with that.

as haechan pulls the red string down lightly, it bounces back up, making him jump in shock. it’s tied to his pinky, and he follows it, dodging students as he tries to find where it leads to. or rather, who. he’s only ever heard of stories of soulmate marks being the red string of fate. as the string gets shorter, he hears familiar laughter and he smiles involuntarily, hope rising in him. if he could hear you, that meant you’d be close by … maybe it was you? he quickens his pace and his eyes raise when he gets towards the end of the string, following up the hand it belongs to. to his delight and also utter disappointment, the string was also tied to your pinky. the same pinky that was interlocked with kim seungmin’s. as you look up to make eye contact with him, your brows furrow at the look of complete heartbreak on his face. “haechan? what’s wrong?” your hand falls from seungmin’s as you stand up, but haechan takes a step back. your face falls. haechan winces at the look, mustering up the courage to force a smile and say, “nothing. i just remembered there’s a math test tomorrow.”

jaemin’s always eager to fall asleep, and there’s no question why on when everyone else realizes what his soulmate mark is. for as long as he could remember, you were always the center of his dreams. he didn’t know your name, or where you lived, but he knew everything else about you. but he wanted more— to be able to hold you in real life, show you off. but every time he tried telling you something about his personal life, he was rudely interrupted by waking up. “baby,” his hand stops right before he can caress your hair and you swallow roughly, eyes blinking rapidly as you look up. you’re surrounded by your childhood home, but he doesn’t know that. “i know we’ll meet one day, why would fate give us to each other but never have us be with one another?” you don’t tell him that you’re uncertain of that. it’s been years, and you have yet to come across each other in person. you have to try again, “… look, my name is—” you start to say the first syllable of your name, but then you blink and you’re awake, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. you promptly turn around and scream in your pillow. why does the universe hate you?

two minutes. this was the worst two minutes of your life. you had been waiting since you were eighteen for this moment, and time couldn’t get any slower. you wonder how you’ll meet your soulmate? maybe a cute meet like bumping into one another? he’ll think you’re cute and come up to you? as you’re aimlessly wandering the crowded mall, you fail to watch where you’re going and bump into another body. your heart stops, realizing as you look up, and there in front of you, holding your arm so you don’t stumble back into someone else, is your soulmate. you hear the beep of the timer, meaning it’s at zero. you blink, “um. hi.” he stifles a chuckle, “hey, i’m chenle.” his friend, beside him, looks between the two of you before at something in the distance, “huh, isn’t this awkward? you were going to talk to that one girl by the panda express—” your soulmate quickly elbows his friend in the ribs sharply, still smiling at you and saying through gritted teeth, “shut up.” he then says to you and your amused raised eyebrows, “you were being blocked by other people, i didn’t get to see you until now.” you tilt your head, heading around him, knowing he’d follow, “uh-huh, right.” “no, seriously! i—”

all you saw was in black and white. from your birth til the moment you met your soulmate, you couldn’t see colors. maybe you got lucky and met them young, or maybe you weren’t and didn’t meet them until your 40s. it also meant that your technical only worth was to be with your soulmate. you only existed because of your soulmate, and vice versa. it left you bitter once you thought into it, which was often due to your parents, supposed soulmates, divorced when you were thirteen. soulmates were so dumb. you had more worth than that. ultimately, you had long lost the enthusiasm and excitement for meeting your soulmate. as your hand went to pick up your coffee sitting on the counter, another hand tried to at the same time. you looked up, making eye contact with a boy with brown eyes and blonde hair— and, what? blonde … you blink, colors expanding right before your eyes. so many new colors were right in front of you, you looked down— you were wearing light color jeans with a red shirt and white shoes, just like the tags said you were. you look back up at the boy who is still staring at you, but you chalk it up to him seeing the same thing you are. “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, not even meaning to. the boy’s brows furrow, “what?” you shake your head, looking down at the coffee in his hands, the name written on it saying jisung, “nice blonde hair.” one of his hands fly up to his hair, smiling slightly, “oh, you can see colors? that’s so cool! i haven’t met my soulmate yet—” what? your stomach drops heavily, a terrible, heavy feeling of dread creeping in, “but i’m excited to finally see colors … i bet they’re amazing.” your mouth is dry, eyes a bit teary and confused. why are you being emotional? you don’t even care, right? you clear your throat, “yeah, right.”

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 2 years ago

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Yeet.

A/N: this is just pure word vomit. I’m so sorry. The title is SO bad but I was giggling so hard when I wrote it. Also this is literally so fucking self-indulgent.

Summary: Spider-People have a sixth sense. This is common knowledge to anyone who intimately knows one. What you didn’t know however was that it can occasionally misinterpret intentions, leading to disastrous results.

Hobie Brown x gn!Reader

Contents: No use of Y/N, anxiety mentions, reader gets full on thrown through a window, reader dissociates (symptoms of dissociation are described in depth), reader gets injured, angst, hurt/comfort

————

It was mid-afternoon, the sun starting to lower towards the sky-line as you hauled your bags back from the grocery store. It wasn’t a long walk, not by any means, by the bags were heavy with ingredients for dinner and the sun was at the perfect angle to shine in your eye.

As you dragged yourself through the lobby of your apartment you could feel your heart flutter at the gentle vibration of your phone in your pocket. Hobie must be telling you that he entered through the window. How you longed to see him, today had been impossibly long and he had a subtle way of making everything better.

As you shuffled your way into the elevator, smacking the button awkwardly with your elbow, you impatiently watched as you rose through the levels of your apartment building.

It felt like a century. But eventually you were met with the sweet ding of the elevator reaching the correct floor. You dragged yourself one last time out of the elevator and down the hall, however instead of the sound of sweet guitar cords you were met with silence.

You anxiously creep down the hallway. When Hobie comes over he always plays his guitar loud enough for the whole floor to hear. As annoying as it was to your neighbors you couldn’t find it in you to ask him to stop, the sweet melody melting the stress right off your bones.

You somehow manage to mangle your key out of your pocket without putting anything down, and as soon as you’re inside you’re dropping your groceries without a care in the world and pulling out your phone.

As you unlock it your worst fear is confirmed, it was Hobie texting you alright. Him not playing his guitar almost certainly meant something was horribly wrong. To make matters worst Hobie had said he had a “surprise” for you. That made the anxiety in your stomach twist even harder, the idea of one of Hobie’s many enemies capturing him, or using you to get to him sparking to life in your mind.

You leave the door to your apartment open a crack, just incase you need to run, and creep down the hallway. The door to your bedroom is open just a crack, and light is spilling out of your room, causing you to hold your breath as you creep closer.

You perch on your toes, hoping to decrease the chance of someone hearing you as you near the door, hands posed at your side, ready to fight for your life or run as fast as your legs could carry you at a moments notice.

You lean on the door frame and push the door open another few inches using the side of your foot, holding your breath as the hinges let out a loud squeak.

When you don’t hear any immediate threats coming from inside the room you carefully shift your weight forward, gripping the door frame like it would keep you from harm.

You feel your heart leap with relief as you see not one of Hobie’s enemies, but Hobie himself. He’s sitting in your desk chair, facing the closed window. He has his guitar in his hands, but that is not what stands out to you. Instead what stands out is the pair of headphones on his head, forcing his wicks out of the way in a messy way that shows he has not taken much care when placing them on his head in the first place.

You scrunch your nose in delight at the comical sight and decide that some teasing is in order, after the near heart attack he gave you.

You creep forward, your movements reminding you of a cat as a Cheshire grin grows on your face. You still completely when you’re in pouncing distance and you see Hobie’s finger still on his guitar strings. A small cue, but one that indicated you’re plan would be foiled if you didn’t attack right… Now!

You pounce forward, you barely feel your nails scrap the thread of Hobie’s shirt before a firm force is pressing on your stomach, pushing you up and over yourself.

You can barely breath, a second and an eternity pass as you crash through the air.

You don’t think you’ve ever hit anything as hard as you just did.

The top of your head and one of your shoulders feel the crunch of the impact first, but it does nothing to slow your movements as your thighs crumple downwards you, and then past you still.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that you’re falling.

Not that you had a long time to realize.

You didn’t realize that you had the instinct to face the ground. Was that something that was impeded in every human? Or were you simply privy to this trait as you saw your boyfriend leap through the air on a near daily basis?

Whatever the cause, your descent is stopped by the feeling of something pulling on your back. It reminds you of how a bully would pull on your backpack in middle school, only if the bully was a double-decker bus instead of a 12 year old.

Your internal debate on the nature of 12-year-old assholes is stopped as you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you in through the cracked frame of a window.

You didn’t remember being pulled in the wrong way through the air. Traveling in reverse. But it would be impossible to forget Hobie’s face staring at you with as much concern as you’ve ever seen on it, eyes wide and almost glassy.

You can feel the tightness of his grip on your shoulders, and you’re sure his fingerprints will be imprinted in your skin. You can see his mouth moving quickly but you can’t hear his voice.

You look vaguely at the busted window frame, the wood is cracked and splintering in nearly a hundred places. You fear your landlords reaction when he sees that. How are you going to explain it?

You feel Hobie gently brushing your forehead with his thumb, pulling you from your thoughts. You look down and see small specks of glass, almost like glitter, dusting your lap. You raise a hand to your head and it comes back a deep vermilion, you swear it sparks the same as that damned glitter.

You feel Hobie’s hand on your cheek, turning your eyes towards him.

“You with me?” Hobie’s eyes are large and concerned, troubled brows peering at you.

You can barely find the strength to make eye contact, mind still far off, falling through the atmosphere, clouds catching in your throat.

You feel Hobie’s firm thumb on your cheek, consistent pressure pulling your mind back down to earth.

“Hey now. Focus on me.”

You blink a few times, and slowly feel your bones becoming solid once more. You can hear the traffic out the window, Hobie’s breathing, feel the warmth of blood on your head. You find your chest naturally matching the rhythm of Hobie’s as he breathes deeply, prompting you to copy him.

You go to reach up to your head once more, intent of seeing how bad your injury is, but Hobie grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back down.

He stares at you for an intense moment before he scoops you up bridal style, being so incredibly gentle as he stands.

“Let’s get you cleaned up Luv.” He sounds more quite and subdued then you have ever heard him. He walks oh so gently, slow and smooth so as not to bump or jostle you.

He sits you down on the counter of the bathroom gently, and pulls a first-aid kit out from under the sink. Typically it is you patching him up after patrol, looks like the tables have turned this time.

He works in utter silence. His first mission is staunching the wound on your head. It’s no where near the point of requiring stitches, it had simply bleed a lot as head wounds are prone to doing. He cleans the wound efficiently, and before you know it the wound is hidden by a thick, white bandage on your forehead.

The rest of your wounds are thankfully small, and don’t take much treatment. After a few wipes from a damp cloth and some Neosporin your wounds are treated. The only evidence that still prove the incident occurred recently is your blood stained clothing.

Hobie stays in the same spot he was in as he treated your wounds, hovering almost. His normally large presence has shrunk and if your didn’t know better you’d say he was trying to hide himself away from you.

You are staring at your hands, finding your fingers very interesting as the intense silence clouds the air, closing in around your throat you want to say something to break it, but your throat chokes in on itself as soon as you open it.

“I’m sorry.”

Hobie looks so small as he whispers those words to you. His hands are ghosts on your thighs, you can feel him, but you’ve never felt so separated from him. He eyes the tile of the bathroom and you can practically see him beating himself up, pulling away from you in a belligerent attempt to protect you.

You gently place a hand on his cheek and turn his face towards yours, forcing him to look at you. “I don’t blame you.”

“I know.”

“I still trust you.”

He glanced away from you briefly, and blinks aggressively like he’s fighting off tears. “Are you sure you should?”

Instead of a verbal response you take one of his hands from your thigh and guide it your head, setting the tips of his fingers right on the thick bandage that lays there. “This is proof that you care. That it was an accident and we both regret it. I trust you with my life.”

He suddenly lurches forward, pulling you into his body with a sob. You hold him gently as he cries into you, rubbing his back comfortingly, letting him feel his emotions and let them out.

You have no idea how long you sat there on your bathroom counter, blood stained clothing as you try to piece back together the broken pieces of your boyfriend without any words. But none were needed.

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stvrdrops · 2 years ago

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soul ties ☆ | shuri x fem!reader

love at first sight was something everyone believed in. for wakandans, it was something entirely different. it was the belief that bast had created lines to connect each human to their perfect fit. shuri believed that you were the end of that line for her.

warnings : some fighting mentioned, mature themes, and cursing.

word count : 6.2k+

note : i would play the song right when the word "she" is highlighted. :) also this is the largest fic i've ever written so yayyy

song : un-thinkable (i'm ready) by alicia keys ft. drake

"shuri?" a voice peeks through shuri's daydreaming. when the princess looks slightly down to her left she sees riri speaking to her.

"are you even paying attention to the tour?"

"yes, of course i am." shuri says in a tone that sounds almost as if she were offended that riri would even ask such a question. even though she did in fact have her attention elsewhere.

"don't front. what do you see that's so important?"

riri follows shuri's eyesight across the quad, until it lands on you. her face lights up and her eyes widen.

of course. she thinks as she watches you in a world entirely of your own. your airpod maxes had been on and you were stuck in a studying session. your braided hair was tied back into a long ponytail, keeping the strands from falling in your face. riri could see even from afar that you were wearing very little makeup. your natural face was the one she preferred, and it was one shuri quickly grew attached to. you were in spandex shorts and a red hoodie that proudly repped MIT in white lettering.

"no."

shuri looks back over to riri, "what?"

"i said no. you're not going to get anywhere with her. no one has. not even i could crack that code." riri mumbles out, clearly butthurt.

"so, i'm hearing that you two know each other."

riri rolls her eyes, "yeah, we're friends. i tutored her last year."

"will you introduce me?"

"no."

"the dean said meeting fellow students would be a good idea. y'know, so i can be more accustomed."

"the dean ain't here though, is she?"

"oh don't be like that."

riri grumbles. she assumes that it can't hurt to introduce the two of you. it's not like any of the other generational wealth kids impressed you. however, a princess with panther powers just might do the trick.

"fine. you get five minutes."

shuri smiles and begins making her way towards you. with every step she noticed how much more beautiful you got. she also happened to notice how her heart would be tugged on, as if being pulled along on a string by you. you reminded her of the beauty she found in wakanda. with your rich skin and dark brown eyes, she couldn't help but notice you.

shadows of figures fall over your textbooks as you were reading over a line about quantum physics. annoyance began to bubble up, considering you had to have all of this material memorized by tomorrow afternoon for a test.

your eyes raise to meet the people causing the shadows, ready to ask them exactly what it was that they needed. that is, until you see riri, and a face you've only ever known in the news. your hands quickly find their way to your headphones, slipping them around your neck.

"hey y/n." riri says so casually that it shocks you. did she not know who was standing right beside her?

"uh, hey riri."

riri does her silly smile that she does every time you say her name. you knew she was utterly smitten with you, but you also knew that your friendship to her mattered more than anything.

"hi y/n." shuri says with a sultry wakandan accent. riri knew that wasn't how she usually talked, all sexy like that. a swift elbow was placed into shuri's side. due to her panther powers she could barely feel it.

"are you who i think you are?" you can't help but ask, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. shuri was someone you would say you looked up to. politics was something you were extremely interested in and watching her on tv speak about wakanda inspired you deeply. you wished so badly to visit wakanda since they opened up their borders, but their policy on foreigners remained the same. they were not to enter unless absolutely necessary. riri was only granted access because of her and shuri's close friendship, that riri never thought to mention until now.

she laughs, which makes your eyes light up. riri notices and figures it's just because you're starstruck. that's what you assume too, but it doesn't feel like that.

"yeah, this is the princess of wakanda, shuri." riri says as she rolls her dark brown eyes, "enough about her though," she slides next to you on the bench. "what are you studying?"

"i'm trying to study quantum physics right now. which is proving to be practically impossible." you say with a heavy sigh. at this rate you were doomed.

"oh, that's real easy baby. i can help you with it later tonight if you want." riri says as her eyes rake over the material in the book.

"very funny riri."

"no, i'm serious. i'm holding a little study session later for shuri to meet some friends. i know you don't hang out with my crew all like that but you're welcome to join."

the invite is enticing.

"i happen to know a decent amount of quantum physics myself." shuri says with a charming smile, "i can help you if you need it."

now the invite seems even more enticing.

"i mean, i guess. as long as we actually study. last time you had a 'study session' we all ended up high."

riri puts her arm around your shoulder, "yeah, but you passed that test the next morning, didn't you?"

a smile can't help but make its way across your face, "yeah, that's true."

"mhm, i thought so."

"shouldn't you be off giving the princess a tour?"

"shuri." the wakandan says.

"hm?" you ask, your eyes torn away from riri.

"you can just call me shuri." she says, "no need for formalities."

"oh, okay. shuri." you say, testing how her name sounds against your tongue. it feels natural and comfortable. shuri would be lying if she said her heart didn't flutter.

riri's eyes shift back and forth as they watch you and shuri.

"ookayyy. yeah, it's time for us to go shuri." riri speaks as she gets up from her spot next to you. she walks back over to shuri, who is still gazing at you. "see you later y/n."

"bye girls." you say as you watch them walk away. riri is saying something to shuri with a weird look on her face, but you can't tell what it is. you're just surprised you kept your cool in shuri's company.

then almost as if by clockwork, your phone begins to ring. you stare at the name on the screen and a sigh leaves you. of course he's calling.

"y/n is here!" riri shouts to the rest of the guests in the room. the couch had been filled with the couple guests riri had waiting in her living room. you thought this was going to be a small gathering, which granted it was. six people, including yourself, wasn't even all that bad. you just felt like you weren't going to actually study tonight after seeing them all. also, you were the only one with a school book in your hand. you weren't surprised to see a few people you knew, with the exception of one girl who had been in the kitchen with shuri.

you set the book onto the table as you take a seat on a beanbag. you notice the girl you're unfamiliar with is hanging onto shuri in the kitchen, keeping her preoccupied with conversation. however, when she feels a gaze lingering on her she's not shocked to see that it's yours. despite how fast you looked away, she knew you were staring.

"you want a hit?" a girl you recognize as karly says before extending her arm out to you. you can't help but look at riri, who just shrugs at you.

"sure." it can't hurt to relax if everyone else was. besides, this might be exactly what you needed. if you took a break from studying maybe you'd do better on the test type deal.

you take a hit of the blunt, making sure to show off how much experience you have with one. it felt good as it scratched the back of your throat. it took you some time to get used to the feeling. now you could successfully take in large amounts without coughing your guts out.

"we got a pro over there." riri says with a smirk on her face. she moves closer to you and sits on the floor. you pass her the blunt and she takes a hit equivalent to yours.

"with the amount of times you persuade me to smoke with you i should be a pro by now."

she laughs at your remark and passes the blunt onto someone else.

shuri makes her way into the room after watching the conversation for a while. you could tell from her eyes that she had already had the blunt a couple times. you wondered how she looked as she smoked. she takes a spot on a chair opposite of the beanbag.

"ri, so you ain't gonna update us on you and justice? i saw you sneak back into the apartments with her. it's almost like you forget that just because you stay in the bougie ass campus apartments means we can't spy on you."

"she not important."

"mhm, not like how y/n is."

riri narrows her eyes at her friends.

you laugh though, the weed taking your edge off. "i don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

the whole room's eyes are now on you. your smile slowly dissipates from your face and your eyes go wide when you realize what you've said.

"boyfriend? since when the fuck do you have a boyfriend?" riri asks, a bit hurt that you never bothered to tell her this information.

"since my senior year of high school. he goes to a different school out of state." you say this so matter of factly. you weren't lying, you did have a boyfriend. he did also attend an out of state school. he was studying computer engineering. he was pissed when he didn't get into MIT and you did. he viewed it as an insult to his intelligence. that should've been one of your first of many red flags. you two talked at max five times a day. any more than that would just be a headache. two busy schedules don't mix well, especially when sometimes you're filling up your schedule just to make sure you had a solid excuse for missed calls.

"you didn't think that was important to tell us? no wonder someone hasn't been walking on campus bragging about how they nailed you." jacari says, a mutual friends of your's and riri's.

"lay off, at least she's faithful." karly says, staring daggers at him.

"i mean, you guys don't really ask me about my romantic life because you assumed there wasn't one."

"is there one? if he's out of state i'm sure that's hard to deal with." shuri can't help but say. the entire room turns to look at her, surprised she's asked such a question like that. she barely knew you. the one fact that she now did know about you was that you had a boyfriend that you didn't like to bring up. that was something she wasn't hoping to learn at all.

"yes, i have a very happy relationship with him." you say, knowing it's a lie. why are you lying? are you still trying to convince yourself? just today when he called you as you studied you argued with him. he wanted to stay where he was at for spring break and you wanted him to come visit you. it was months away, but you had to plan these things in advance with him. he never came to see you anymore. just this past christmas he lied saying he couldn't get out of his internship, but instead he was at his mother's house opening presents as she asked where you were.

you should have broken up with him by now. however, he was comfortable for you. did you really have the time to get to know someone entirely new? did you want to relearn someone's favorite color, zodiac sign, dreams, and goals? granted, there were plenty of choices in front of you that you already knew. such as riri, who you could see yourself being with. however, you prized her friendship so much more.

"that was intrusive, forgive me." shuri apologizes. her thick accent making your skin crawl.

"it's okay.." you mutter out.

"what's his name?" she asks, desperate to get any more information out of you. really, she just likes to hear your voice.

"monty." you say, his nickname rolling so easily off of your tongue, "i mean, his real name is montell. i call him monty."

"he sounds nerdy as fuck." riri can't help but say out of her own saltiness.

"i mean, he is."

"oh my god, so when was the last time you had an orgasm?" the mystery girl can't help but ask.

now this was a question shuri was interested in.

"i don't know. the beginning of this past summer." you wouldn't dare tell them that it had been one you pulled out of yourself.

"sis, you're kidding." jacari says, shocked at how long it had been. "y'all don't have phone sex?"

not even once.

"nah, it just never comes up for us." you try to say in a nonchalant manner, as if it doesn't bother you how you don't get turned on for him anymore. as if you ever did.

"that sounds miserable."

"it is." you can't lie as you laugh, "i've been itching to have sex for a while now. guess it'll just have to wait."

"whew, you're better than i am. i would've fucked half the campus by now if i were you." jacari continues on before taking a hit.

the conversation ends abruptly when riri's roommate comes out of her room and towards you.

"i need my beanbag please." she says, standing right over you. "i'm about to start studying and i'd rather not do it on my bed."

it takes a second to realize what she's saying to you through your high.

"yeah, of course." you say as you get up, pulling the chair from beside you and handing it to her.

"thanks." she says kindly, and then glares at riri. she goes back into her room, leaving you to stand.

"that bitch is always tripping. she didn't need her damn chair. she's just mad i have people over." riri says as she glares towards the door.

shuri notices you're standing and her mouth begins to speak before she can stop herself.

"do you want to sit in my lap? it's probably more comfortable than the floor." shuri offers up, everyone looking at her with wide eyes. it was a bold move that she was practically flirting with you despite finding out you have a boyfriend. also, after insulting the said relationship between the two of you.

of course, you didn't pick up on how charged that question really was. you were naturally oblivious to that stuff.

"yeah, okay. thanks." you say as you sit on her lap, or more specifically her knee. your spandex shorts made it so that practically every inch of your exposed skin was touching with hers, considering she had on shorts as well. you could tell they were riri's.

maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the lack of sexual release. all you knew was that it felt damn good to have yourself pressed up against her knee. it was like she was teasing you, without even having to do it on purpose. you felt embarrassed as you felt yourself pulse from the closeness and how wonderful it felt. you attempted to get up, scared that she might know how you were feeling. however, her arm quickly found its way around your waist as she held you down onto her lap. your skin covered itself with goosebumps from the dominating grab. it was hard to act like you were interested in whatever conversation riri and her friends had been having with one another. shuri, on the other hand, had no problem continuing in the conversation as she felt how warm you were.

really shuri had not noticed just how bold her movements were. she had this want to protect you, as if you were hers. she wondered if it was because of her panther powers. however, she also wondered if it was something more. the reality that you had a boyfriend kept her from doing anything unwanted. she didn't know the way you felt towards her, if you had any feelings at all. if she couldn't get to know you in a romantic way then a friendly manner would have to do. even if she would ache for something more despite just meeting you this afternoon. shuri recalled a moment with her brother earlier in her life that left her thinking for the rest of the day after meeting you.

"when did you know nakia was the one for you, brother?"

he chuckles, "when i saw her."

shuri couldn't believe it, "what kind of hopeless romantic answer is that?"

"exactly what i just said. bast created soul ties underneath the rich vibranium soils that our eyes are unable to see. even us panthers can not view where the lines lead us. however, we can see when they have reached their destination. when you see that person, you just know that this is where your line ends. you know that bast made you for one another. you also know that you no longer need to search for that line."

"is there a chance that bast would forget to create a line for me? or at least, in the same way she created nakia's to you?" shuri began to wonder, scared because when she was young she didn't know where her sexuality laid.

"oh sweet little sister," he sighs, "bast would never forget to make you a person. after all, your annoying tendencies were made for someone to love."

"ugh, you suck!" shuri says, a wide smile on her face as she playfully hits her brother. he just smiles in return.

shuri believed that she saw the soul tie that connected to you. an american girl who she had never seen before. her brother was gone, but he was right.

your phone that is sitting in your lap starts to buzz, interrupting your train of thought as you attempt to uphold your composure and try not to seem too high. you squint your eyes at the bright screen.

"hi monty." you answer the phone, buzzed enough to sound happy that he's called. shuri watches the phone out of the corner of her eye. she's too curious to see what her competition looks like. he's sun kissed and has a buzz cut. he looked just as nerdy as his name sounded.

"where are you at?" he asks, not greeting her back.

"i'm at riri's."

shuri watches as his face turns into one of disgust. "i thought i told you to stop going over there. all she ever does is get you high."

riri is far too buzzed and in her own world to realize what he's said. shuri heard it though, and furrowed her brows.

"getting high is my own choice, monty. i know you get high with your frat bros in north carolina."

"it's different."

no it isn't.

"wait a minute, are you sitting on some other dude's lap?" he asks, as all he can see is shuri's curly hair.

"no, this is shuri. like the princess of wakanda shuri." you whisper that last part into the phone. it shows just how truly geeked you are.

"you're lying. that's a fucking dude."

before you can say anything, shuri takes the phone from you and puts it on her own face. you watch as monty's face goes wide and for once he has nothing to say.

"hello montell."

"oh, um. i-i'm sorry, princess." monty is scrambling to find the words and shuri can tell he wants to hang up. he always hated to be embarrassed. being embarrassed by royalty was the lowest it could get.

you take the phone back before he gets the chance to hang up, "wait, monty, what were you calling for?"

"well, i thought about what you were saying earlier. i'll come home for spring break. i miss you baby."

his voice sounded so insincere and shuri cringed at it. this was the man who got to claim you as his own? you had a beauty unrivaled and here you were wasting it on some man who couldn't even seem excited about seeing you. she felt offended for you, even though you were use to this by now.

"really? what made you change your mind?"

"i don't know. i guess i'll see you over break though. we can talk more about this at another time."

you knew what he meant by this.

"i'm not out partying, monty."

"you are. at least be a responsible adult and get up for your classes tomorrow. bye."

"bye." you say back, unwilling to fight.

when he hangs the phone up you realize the everyone is looking at you. your face heats up from noticing that everyone probably witnessed that entire exchange. of course they caught him on a night where he was being a dick. it was pretty much every night, so this did make your case to defend him a little harder. you didn't want to get up from shuri's knee considering it felt so nice up against you. however, you also didn't want to hear any comments from the gallery.

"i'm going to go home." you say, pulling yourself into sobriety after that conversation. "hope you all have a good night."

shuri lets you up from her lap. she feels bad you're walking home but it's not like you've never done it before. the heat you resonated leaves her feeling cold when you stand away from her. everything inside of her is screaming for her to grab you back into her arms and keep you there. a part of you wanted that too, but it was unrecognizable.

riri hands you the physics book on the table. "get home safe, y/n."

"i always do."

you got home safe that night. you also searched for an orgasm multiple times that night as you recalled how good you felt against her. you replicated her knee with a pillow and held on tight to yourself with your free hand. you tried so desperately to think of monty as you rocked against it. however, nothing worked. all you could do was imagine your head placed in the crook of the princess's neck, smelling her enticing cologne. you could hear her wakandan accent telling you how good you were doing and how badly she craved you. they were all words that monty could never say to you. they were words you searched so bad for because you ached for her praise. only when you moaned out her name as you finished made you so self aware to what you had been doing. this made you dig your head into your pillow, still heaving from the high.

what you did weighed heavy on your conscience. especially when you had been practically spending every day with shuri. she was basically attached to your hip. she joined your study sessions, she came with you to try american cuisine, her favorite being wingstop for some strange reason, and she even waited for you after every class. she was your best friend, making riri fall into second place.

at one point a rumor had been going around campus that the two of you were in a relationship, despite the fact you had a boyfriend. after all, who could deny a princess of the most powerful and advanced nation in the world? you could deny her as much as you wanted. however, you knew deep down that you couldn't do it for long. you didn't know how much longer you'd keep stringing monty and yourself along. commitment was something you were scared of. commitment to a future leader of a nation was something entirely different. what if you had decided to dump monty for a potential happy relationship with shuri? what would happen if it ended? you'd rather not think of all the possibilities, instead you preferred self sabotage. you appreciated shuri so dearly, in the a.m. and in the p.m. when you would finish to thoughts of her. whether it be how she played with your hair when she got bored, how she laughed so sweetly at your jokes, or how she constantly had her hand in yours or on your waist. you knew friends didn't do that. you knew that she also knew that.

the more time you spent with shuri meant the more time you spent ignoring monty. he saw paparazzi pictures that his friends would show him of the two of you together. he felt some type of way of course, blowing up your phone with "she might as well be your boyfriend the way she's touching on you." your only response being a swift "okay" and an "i'm sorry." you weren't sure how else to respond to him, knowing that you were cheating emotionally and even somewhat physically. you imagined that monty couldn't have stayed loyal to you with the lying he did. so what did it matter if you told a couple white lies too?

you didn't even realize that at one point whenever you brought him up you'd start referring to him again as his birth name, montell.

"montell?" you can't help but ask in surprise as you open the door to your dorm.

"surprise!" he says with the most emotion you've heard out of him in weeks. a bouquet of flowers are in his large hands. a nice turtleneck adorned his chest, which had gotten bigger. he must've been putting his frustration into working out. "you back to calling me by my birth name?"

he pushes his way into the dorm, looking around at your space that you shared with your roommate who had been out of town.

"um, you're early. a week early." you express to him, rubbing your forehead. you weren't prepared for his arrival in the slightest. your hair had been pulled into a bun and your face was bare. you adorned some grey sweatpants that did not belong to you. shuri had left them here the last time she slept over. she claimed it was "too warm" in the room to wear such pants. instead she wore a pair of your shorts that you never got back.

"you weren't going to tell me that your spring break started a week earlier than mine? i just decided to do my coursework ahead of time and then surprise you."

"honestly it slipped my mind." you say, which was the truth.

he sets the bouquet down.

"you look pretty." he says as he gets closer to you. his hands grab your waist, pulling you in and looking at you as if he wanted to devour you. it was almost as if he had forgotten how pretty you were. or maybe he was just jealous, because he knew the pants were too big for you.

you wanted to pull away, not wanting to kiss him despite thinking that you had been missing him all this time.

"not right now, i kinda just woke up." you say, which was a lie. it was eight p.m. on a rainy night. you could never sleep when it rained.

"okay, i guess later then when we go out to dinner. you looked like you were expecting somebody though with the way you opened up the door. is it that stupid princess you've been hanging around?"

there was the montell you were used to. a jealous, insecure, fucking man child.

"no." you say, a lie. your face scrunches up in disgust that he would refer to her in that tone.

he knows you're lying.

"okay. so if i wait up around in here she's not gonna show up?"

"i don't know. i can't control what she does."

"bullshit. you've got her walking around behind you like you're the one who's royalty. call her."

what?

"no."

"i said, fucking call her."

before you can say anything he's attempting to grab your phone. you put up a good fight, causing the phone to get launched right into his face. you gasp when you've realized what you did. instant regret fills your body as you spurt out countless apologizes.

"it would've been better if you just fucked her, y/n. cause then i could confidently say i don't give a fuck about you and finally tell you about all the girls i've been nailing since i went away. heh, just like how you've been. guess we finally have something in common."

your eyes go wide at his words. there it was. there was the truth that you had been begging to hear in some deep part of your brain. those were the words that could allow you to finally let him go. this was the moment you decided that you weren't okay with being 'comfortable' anymore. you were utterly repulsed at him and yourself for letting this go on for so long. for months you refused to act on impulses that you craved so badly to have. your lip trembled when you thought about how you could've kissed shuri ten times over by now. you had been holding onto something that you didn't realize had no real value to you anymore. and for what? to be treated like some idiot? you didn't deserve that.

"get the fuck out. you should've never come home."

"yeah i should've stayed with my other girlfriend. at least she doesn't flaunt herself around with other people in fucking tabloids. it's embarrassing you know that? when your buddies send you links of some bitch having her arm wrapped around your girlfriend? they teased me about it in my frat for weeks after she got caught playing in your hair and looking so lovey dovey with you. they called me a pussy for not coming back home sooner."

"so that's why you came back? to prove yourself to some idiot frat boys who are gonna be stuck drinking out of kegs the rest of their life while you write all their code, making them the millionaires? get the fuck out montell."

"you bitch-"

"i said leave."

you don't have to tell him again before he's grabbing up his roses and muttering curse words at you under his breath. you held your composure until he slammed the door shut. when surrounded in your own hospitality you finally crack. the tears fall down your face and plop as they hit the wooden floor. you were crying because you were upset about losing someone you loved. you were crying because you had let yourself be played for a fool for so long. a part of you feels liberated as the weight of montell is lifted off of your shoulders.

"y/n?" a voice says from behind the door. you recognize it's shuri.

attempting to speak only results in you being choked up. the door opens as you raise your head to look up at her.

her grey hoodie that says MIT has raindrops all over it. her curls are wet and drip against the wood floors. she looked beautiful despite being soaked. the fact she looked so beautiful made you cry even more.

when she lays her eyes on you she can't help but immediately rush over. she drops the books about physics she had in her hand. she had every intention on coming over here to study with you, but now she didn't care about any of that. she had never seen you like this before. her only priority was you. her heart was set solely on you.

"what happened?" she asks, her arms wrapped around your body as you huddled into yourself. you don't dare to look at her, feeling too ashamed.

"montell.. i'm so stupid." you manage to choke out.

shuri puts it all together. she thought that man she had passed in the hallway just now looked familiar. she knew even more that something was up when he gave her a glare that could've had him killed. had she known he left you like this, she would've killed him herself. how dare he cause such pain to someone who did nothing but care for others?

"whatever happened, you are not stupid. you are one of the brightest girls i know, and that's saying a lot."

you somehow manage to laugh and look back up at her. she's still holding on tight, making you feel warm in her embrace. it reminds you of the study session at riri's. it feels pure. it feels like you're the only person in the world to her.

she wipes away your tears with the pads of her thumbs, her eyebrows contorted into a face that resembles worry.

"please don't cry. you are too pretty to cry over such ugly things. i hate to see you cry."

you think that this is exactly how love is supposed to feel as she says those words to you.

"shuri.."

"y/n. you make me feel things that i've never felt before. you're something that is so impossible to ignore that i can't help but spend every second with you. you put up with my annoying tendencies. you put up with my clinginess. you put up with my lack of american pop culture knowledge. you denied me my feelings because you knew it was the wrong thing to do if you fell into my temptation. i know you know deep down how i feel for you. it is quite obvious. you are an angel among men, y/n. you are my angel. you've saved me in ways that you can't even begin to think of. i never had any intentions on falling in love with you, but it has happened. you may not be in love with me but you are what makes my world spin. you are what makes my oceans flow and earth quake. you are exactly who bast intended me for and i can't ignore this anymore. i can't let you sit here and think you are foolish when you are anything but. you are considerate, you are kind, you are a person worthy of being a queen. you are my queen, wakanda's future queen."

her words have shocked you as you sit there, eyes wide and your mouth partly gaped open. you thought you'd want to hear those words from montell, but really it had been shuri all along. you couldn't ignore your feelings towards her after a love confession of such caliber. it had shaken you to your core and it took you out of your sadness. your heart was beating at a dangerous tempo, but it was aligned with hers. you didn't know what she meant by her goddess creating you for her, but you could feel it. you could feel it because you knew she was made for you as well.

you hadn't realized, but you knew everything about her. you knew shuri's favorite color was purple. you knew her zodiac sign was sagittarius. you knew her dreams and goals of advancing wakanda. you also knew how scared she was to become the future queen as she once cried in your arms.

you love shuri. you love her so much that it made you blind. you'd rather ignore that feeling than feed into it, but that's all changed now. she took the lead tonight and now it was time for you to express what came to your mind.

so you did.

your lips connected to hers in a wild frenzy. finally you were quenching this thirst you had been searching for since she came into your life. after all this time you were doing the unthinkable. you were allowing yourself to be her's, rather than anyone else's. your fears of commitment felt like things of the past when your hands made their way to her face. her skin felt so soft against yours, as it got wet from your tears. her plump lips are attached to your soft ones. it felt like you were intertwining yourself with her. for shuri, it felt like the soul ties were becoming knotted into one. finally she had you and she had no plans of ever letting you go. this was the unthinkable and it was so beautiful as you held onto each other, placing intimate kisses one one another. this was you saying you loved her just as deeply as she loved you, in very little words.

you were ready. after all this time you were ready to see what was right in front of you this whole time. you could never go back to what it was before. she was your soulmate.

"i'm sorry." you whisper out after you pull away to breathe.

her hands begin caressing your face as her eyebrows furrow. "what are you sorry for, my love?"

"i'm sorry for not doing this any sooner. i'm so sorry."

"you never have to apologize to me. i would've waited until the end of time for you."

you smile, feeling your heart swell.

as the rain falls down around outside of your dorm walls, you stay in her embrace. shuri could feel her brother smiling at her from a distant plane, knowing in death that he was right. he had been smiling even brighter at the prospect that shuri did indeed find her nakia.

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡°✩☼⋆｡°✩☽︎

#Spotify #stvrdrops #mcu shuri #shuri udaku #shuri fanfiction #riri williams #letitia wright shuri #princess shuri #shuri fanfic #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri black panther #shuri fic #shuri fluff #shuri imagine #shuri/reader #mcu #mcu fanfic

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thewriterthatghostedyou · 3 months ago

Text

Chapter 1

Happy Halloween! I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter! It is a little smaller than I would like so I am also going to release chapter 2 today as an extra Halloween treat!

Word count: 1260

Warnings: mention of past violence

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

The repairs of Bitterbridge were slow and arduous but you felt a peace at being home. If you squinted long enough at the halls filled with lightened red stains you could almost hear your mother scolding Edric for tracking in mud or your father’s booming laugh.

“My lady,” Your handmaiden, Gaella, looked at you with concern as she laced your corset tightly. “You aren’t truly thinking of attending, are you?”

You sighed heavily, the letter containing a summons to King’s Landing feeling heavy in your hands. “I have no choice. As easily as Aegon allows me to keep Bitterbridge, he could just as easily take it away.”

“But you’ve only just returned.” Gaella was your mother’s handmaid, and survived the sack only by hiding in the castle’s secret passageways before escaping to Old Town until returning was safe. You had almost cried tears of joy at seeing her familiar face upon your return.

“I know.” Your shoulders fell as you spoke. “But the repairs are ahead of schedule and shall continue as planned thanks to Lady Tyrell.” The clever lady of Highgarden had taken pity on you, alone with no family and decided to aid in funding the reconstruction of Bitterbridge.

“You are welcome to join me if you’d like.” You turn to face Gaella’s older face lined with slight wrinkles. “I could really use a friend there.”

The older woman shuffled on her feet before nodding slowly. “My lady, I will follow you wherever you ask.”

You gave her a grateful smile as she finished and you stood in front of a cracked full length mirror.

“We leave tomorrow at first light,” You said, brushing your skirts out. “Take the rest of the day to pack and prepare.”

Gaella curtsied deeply before walking towards the door. “I will be ready, my lady.” She promised confidently.

You shot her a wordless but thankful smile as she left and found yourself lost in your thoughts, rereading the letter in your hands for what must have been the hundredth time.

Lady Y/n Caswell,

You are cordially summoned to attend the celebration marking the end of the Dance of Dragons and the triumphant ascension of King Aegon, second of his name, to his rightful throne.

Alongside the festivities, both Princes will be choosing an eligible lady for their brides. As Prince Aemond’s own lady wife passed in childbirth alongside the babe and Daeron has come of age it is the Crown’s wish to see the Targaryen line grow strong once again after such needless loss.

A group of such eligible ladies has already been decided by the council and as a young lady of a reputable house under the Tyrell banner you will be considered alongside other ladies for this honor.

The celebrations shall begin in a month's time and your attendance is expected to mend the fragile relationship between House Caswell and the Throne.

You scoffed in disbelief at the words that did not change no matter how many times you read them. You knew that your invitation to the capital was only given out of expectation and to further prove your loyalty to the Green King. And as for the last half of the letter, you felt bile rise into your throat. Daeron had burnt your home to a crisp and his army slaughtered your people. And from tales you heard about his older brother you knew that he was no better.

You knew that such news; however unappealing of an offer it was to you, was being met with much joy and planning by the other houses in the realm. ‘Good.’ You thought to yourself with a tired smile. ‘Perhaps they will keep the two princes busy while I go through the motions.’

Leaving your chambers to meet with the carpenters tasked on the reconstruction of your keep, you took the long path down to the grand entrance, refusing to pass the roof that your beloved mother had hung herself from in despair. Perhaps one day the stabbing pain you felt at her loss would fade into a duller sensation, but today was not that day.

The month spent on the road was long and boring. And you found yourself switching from riding in the carriage to being on horseback in an effort to change your scenery. Of course this impromptu trip did not excuse you from the large stacks of letters and missives that you were required to pour over as Lady of your house. Bills and requests for aid filled the majority of your day as you worked ceaselessly to aid your people in whatever way you could.

You had never expected to find yourself back in the capital after the events of your last stay and your mouth grew dry as the familiar keep loomed at you from a distance. The once Black banners that hung from outer walls were replaced with a garish green and you bit your lip nervously as your carriage pulled up to the entrance.

A young squire, dressed in Hightower green, approached you with a welcoming smile before leading you to one of the many guest chambers that the Keep had. Although you were not opposed to his help, the Red Keep was a building you knew as well as your own ancestral home and the memories within it made you want to retreat to your rooms immediately.

You spent the rest of that day pacing and exploring the new rooms, finding that you had been provided with a washroom, chamber pot area, bed room, and seating area which seemed rather grandly decorated for a lady of a lesser house. Especially one that had sided with Rhaenyra.

‘I suppose that there are worse places to be imprisoned in.’ You thought to yourself while eating dinner in your seating room. Laughter and joyous conversations were able to be made out through the thick walls and it was obvious that the rest of the King’s guests had taken their dinner in the main hall to begin the endless preening and idle flattery that they believed would raise their station.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to eat with the rest of the court?” Gaella had asked as she set a platter of roasted goose glazed in honey in front of you. Your mouth watered at the sight of the meal and were relieved to see that the chefs in the Keep were still as skilled as they had been months ago.

“Absolutely sure.” You grabbed your utensils and sliced into the meat with a scoff. “King Aegon does not require my presence for his ‘celebration’ until the morrow and seeing as I have no desire to torture myself more than necessary, I plan on remaining away from the court as much as I am able.”

You popped a grape into your mouth after you spoke and chewed it slowly. “Besides, the royal family have more important guests to worry about than me. I will gratefully allow them to monopolize their time.”

Now, with an old tome about the histories of Asshai by your side, you ate in relative comfort. You were alone, yes, but you found that you had gotten used to the feeling as the war had gone on. You had only just arrived back at court and you already lulled yourself to sleep that night with thoughts about returning home as soon as you could. The pleasant dreams chasing away the regular nightmares you had of water forcing its way into your throat as you sank deep into the Gullet.

Tag list 🏷️

@dixie-elocin

@shari-berri

@ka1afbr

@sepherinaspoppies

@gorlillaglue25

@indycaelumskywalker

#fanfic #reader insert #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #dark aemond targaryen x reader

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jazzylovegood · 1 year ago

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HAIKYUU HEADCANONS 1

Keiji Akaashi

Thanks to TikTok I learnt that Akaashi is canon to be one weird ass motherfucka, so….

- Definitely talks to himself. He mutters to himself all the time, no matter who he is around or what he is doing. Sometimes it would be on accident, he would be thinking and then just say it out loud.

“Was it the frog or toad that killed him?” -Akaashi

“….What?” -Konoha

“It was definitely the frog, the toad would never.” -Akaashi

- Listens to music you would not expect him to.

”Hey, Akaashi what you listening to? -Bokuto

”Nothing much.” -Akaashi

Bokuto puts his ear up to Akaashi’s headphones and just hears Cluster by fuckin Slipknot.

- Mr. Keiji “I cannot stop cracking my bones” Akaashi

Even in silence he will just randomly decide to crack something. Knee, fingers, hand, toes, head, elbow. He will be cracking it. Helps him concentrate.

- I would like to remind you that Akaashi is everything but shy, he is very blunt and sassy when he is speaking, and he definitely stays that way for everyone. Is not the type to hold back or change his personality when meeting someone new. (Which we saw in the show). Him and Kenma are not the same. There is a difference between chill and shy.

- You know you are one of his close friends when he remembers everything you tell him. Your shoe size, blood type, your favorite food as a kid, your 5th favorite color, even what you named your pet rock in 1st grade. You mention it once to him and he will remember because to him that is what could make him a great friend.

- He actually does write stuff in his notes app. His notes app is his most used app every week. 10 hours at least. He writes EVERY THOUGHT in there. For example, during the day when he thinks about food, he would like to eat for dinner he writes it down. As a reminder. Even though he has amazing memory, he does this to make sure his past self is happy.

- Watches tv in dad pose. Arms are entire crossed or on his hips. He will read the synopsis of the show and say he was not interested in it and then would be standing there watching. As The Gods Will for example.

- Makes eye contact. Wants you to feel heard and he wants to see the changes in your facial expressions (If you are like me, you have A LOT of those). That is why I think he is pulled towards people like Bokuto, loud and genuine people. He is also pulled towards great storytellers, people who use their hands when they are talking and/or voices for people involved. Always have that evidence on lockdown. He would love to see the receipts.

- Wears weird ass shirts. I am talking “a picture of pants on a shirt” type shit. World's greatest grandpa, I am just a girl, and would have shirts with his friend's names on it, in a pun way. “Danny stops! Do not poke your toes!” Get it. Bokuto. Poke your toes (I am kinda sorry).

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TIKTOK MENTIONS

“Sometimes he'll think of a line from a vid he watched a week ago and repeat it for hours.” -four ☆

“Does not smell like anything. not his shampoo, not even sweat, he doesn't have a smell at all.” -monira 💌

“Y’all know those little rubber band bracelets that made shapes? yea, he has a whole collection of them in a jar” -kai 🎸🦕

“If he had any piercings, he would constantly be playing with it touching them” -coors_lightt

Other HEADCANONS: Daichi,

#haikyuu #anime #anime and manga #headcanon #haikyū!!#shifting #shifters #reality shift #shifttok #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #fukurodani #kozume kenma #konoha

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baiwu-jinji · 11 months ago

Note

i apologize in advance if this ask sounds kinda weird, but i'm kinda curious to hear your thoughts on how the narrative treats qi rong, mostly because i think interacting only with the eng version/fandom might take some context from his character. i've seen people complaining that some fans woobify him too much, others complaining that some people treat him as a pure hate-sink when he's more than that. while i do think he's a multi-layered character, i do sometimes get the feeling that mxtx did not go easy on him, with the revised version being even crazier than before (some even say he was given a bit of onesided incestuous subtext with xl, but i wonder if that interpretation isn't just the result of weirdly translated lines in eng). i think this might be because he strikes me as a meta personification of sorts for toxic fans who place their identity and self-worth on just one person they completely idolize, and when that person is shown to be imperfect they immediately turn against them, and we know mxtx has had experience with those kinds of people.

i do think he's largely meant to be seen as unsympathetic overall, though i think there's strong nuances with his character as well. since his childhood he always lacked something and never really had a well formed identity, his prince name being symbolic of his life. he projected himself onto xl in life, and he kept on absorving the worst traits of the people around his life without really understanding them in order to feel powerful and important, from the xianle nobles to the signature traits of the other calamities. he also strikes me as very... "little brother"-coded, in the sense that he keeps looking for any sort of recognition and seems unable to mature. even when he hates xl i think he still somewhat craves his attention, and qr only developed a bit when he was forced to let go of this role by accidentally becoming a father instead. i think it's also interesting that he started out a lot like his father, but ended up sharing the fate of his mother.

i do wonder how the cn fandom views him and if he's nearly as divisive as he is here. i'd also be pretty interested in seeing some meta about him from cn fans. again, it feels like some context is missing by not speaking the language the book was originally written in...

Hi! I think the narrative basically takes the same stance as Xie Lian in its attitude towards Qi Rong, which is the sort of "I can't love you but I don't want to hate you, the best I could give you is indifference". I agree that Qi Rong isn't meant to be lovable, but MXTX isn't dismissive of him as a character either - she devoted almost an entire chapter to Qi Rong's death, let him speak his mind, and gave him some form of closure.

Qi Rong having onesided incestuous subtext with XL (!!) in the revised version is...very interesting haha, I haven't read the revised version so I can't know (someone please tell me where to get the revised version ><). Although I want to speculate that even if there is some incestuous vibes, it's not truly sexual - it's probably libido directed the wrong way when you're lusting over someone else's identity, but not over that person per se. Qi Rong lusts over XL's identity in the sense that he wants to be XL - or rather he wants to be perfect, worshipped, all-powerful etc. (bit of digression, there's an underrated psychological thriller called Cracks starring Eva Green, if you watch it you'll know what I mean)

I don't have the impression that he's truly divisive in the Chinese fandom, but then I don't engage with the Chinese fandom that much so I could totally be wrong. And I don't think any context is missing for English readers either (except maybe the humour of QR's obscene language might be lost in translation?) because human nature is the same everywhere, and Qi Rong's distorted psyche is more a matter of human nature than cultural context.

As for Chinese fandom's view of QR, there's this great meta I translated and posted a few days ago, and I found some other opinion pieces about Qi Rong on Zhihu (Chinese equivalent of Reddit), as you'll see they're quite diverse.

A lot of Chinese readers say that what stands out most about Qi Rong is his comedic role in the story because his cursing and name-calling are really funny; a lot of people also mention being really touched by his self-sacrifice to save Guzi. I found this one post that has a similar view to yours, which is QR represents MXTX's toxic fans:

"I always felt it's the author admonishing her fans in an implicit way not to be as crazy as Qi Rong [...] My guess is that the author can't ask her fans outright not to act in this way because that would hurt people who support her but are immature, however she can't turn a blind eye to these people going around provoking more resentment, so she creates QR to remind her fans not to be like QR, or they'd appear as unlikable as QR to the public. But the author still feels symathy for thse fans, so she didn't depict their representation in the novel as totally incorrigible - QR retains some humanity and is a little adorable when he starts to care about people."

I also saw opinions about the narrative (or rather Xie Lian) not going easy on Qi Rong, like this one:

"Xie Lian is clearly a very good person but why is he so heartless to QR? He eventually treated QR as a joke and a burden, but QR was once a true follower of his. At first I thought XL was perfect and cares about everyone, but he never really cared for his cousin. When I read that XL felt neither joy nor sorrow when QR died saving Guzi, my heart chilled. If XL could forgive the masses who betrayed and reviled him, why can't he forgive his cousin who once followed him whole-heartedly?"

There're also people saying that Qi Rong's potential divisiveness is what makes him a great villain, like this post:

"What MXTX's well-received villains have in common is a tragic childhood and not being loved growing up, and they only have a soft spot for one person. Although these villains did horrible deeds and are unrepentant, they all reserve some kindness in their heart for the only person who's good to them. This contrast is striking and touching, yet most likely to cause controversy. Therefore, MXTX knows very clearly how to create a memorable villain, and I admire that."

Someone else says when they read about Qi Rong they "don't know whether to laugh or cry" (XL's signature emotion hehe). They add that "this is where MXTX is successful in writing a villain - you both hate and pity him; he's infuriating, but you don't really want to see him die either."

Another view is that since Qi Rong has no filter, he sometimes serves as the truth-telling voice. For example, when XL wanted to keep Lang Qianqiu in the dark about the truth of the Gilded Banquet Massacre, Qi Rong blurted out the truth.

There's also a question posted on Zhihu that asks why people like Qi Rong, and there're some interesting answers. There's one post that says "I find him attractive because he's depicted as alluringly ghostly in a lot of fan art like vampires in Twilight" haha

Another post says they like Qi Rong "because he's guilelessly wicked, while XL and Hua Cheng are hypocrites" emmmmm

Another one says they like Qi Rong because "being Xie Lian is exhausting, he's so wronged but he just endures it all, while Qi Rong just launches verbal assults whenever someone rubs him the wrong way, it's so cathartic. The most difficult thing in the world is to be a good person, because as soon as you do one thing wrong, everyone criticises you; but if you're a bad person, even if you did just one good thing, everyone praises you for it and shows you pity".

#qi rong #xie lian #tgcf

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happy-beeeps · 2 years ago

Text

Art for Art's Sake

WC: 2.3k

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Summary: You've always loved to doodle Hunter, but what happens when he finally catches you?

Warnings: none! pure fluff! There's like one suggestive line at the very end.

He’s heard it for weeks now, the sound that's rubbing against his brain. It’s subtle, something he’s sure only he can hear, and it originates from the corner booth you’re occupying. You’ve got your legs thrown up onto the table with your back in the corner, Tech at your right tapping away on his datapad and chatting your ear off about their most recent mission. Hunter is so envious of his brothers’ relationships with you, how easily they come. You and Tech are like two peas in a pod, your friendship quick and steadfast. It’s hard not to love you, he admits to himself, and he wonders if he’s the reason you’re so quiet around him, if he makes you nervous. It’s not for lack of trying on either of your parts, he can feel the way your pulse quickens when you touch hands, and he knows himself well enough that you occupy his thoughts most every day.

“Stop staring, you’re gonna freak her out,” Echo chides, slipping easily into the stool next to Hunter.

“Not staring, just listening to Tech.”

“That's worse,” he laughs, sipping the drink he holds in his hand. “She’s our friend, why don’t you just go talk to her.”

“She’s your friend.” Hunter states, matter of fact. Echo rolls his eyes before setting the drink down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel like she hates me.”

Echo is staring at him now, mouth agape. “I thought you were supposed to be the one with the enhanced senses.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s got everything to do with it,” he inclines his head to where you’re sitting. You’ve been peeking over at the two of them, and when Hunter lifts his gaze to see where Echo is looking, you blink wildly before focusing back on your lap, back at that noise he can’t quite discern. “She keeps looking at you.”

He scoffs. “So? I make her nervous. She hates me.”

“Yeah, that’s the whole point.” He stands up and punches his brother lightly in the shoulder. “She likes you.” Echo leaves Hunter at that, walking over towards the booth you’re at. He hears him greet you, then asks Tech to take a look at something back on the Marauder. Tech, always one step ahead but two steps behind, looks confused at the insistence, but relents when Echo practically hauls him out of his seat. The two of them walk past Hunter, and Echo pauses. “Stop being weird. Go say something to her.”

Omega and Wrecker have long left the cantina in search of snacks, leaving you and Hunter alone, save for a few gamblers and Cid, the latter of which is occupied with an intense conversation on holo with her ale supplier. Hunter heaves a sigh, downs his drink and makes his way to you where you’re sitting, your eyes wide as you watch his moves toward you.

The sergeant makes you nervous. Like, really nervous. When you had met the batch on their first night in Ord Mantell, you had to resist the urge to yelp when you locked on to his intense stare. Sure, the months that have since passed have made way for some of the best friendships you’ve ever had, and of course you appreciate them bringing you on to tutor Omega. Poor girl needs a teacher. You find yourself counting down the hours for their return when they’re off world, or spending long hours chatting in hyperspace when they bring you with. They’re just a nice group of people.

That’s not to say Hunter isn’t nice. He is. He’s respectful and courteous and he always offers you a drink and pulls out your chair when you’re sitting with them, but that’s it. And it’s gnawing at your gut because despite it all, you really like him. Disregarding the fact that he’s got the ruggedly handsome looks of the holostars of your youth, he’s also fascinating. He’s smart, calculating, and serious. You want to crack him open like a book and find out what makes him tick. Plus, you’re certain he’s aware of your feelings, and that’s why he can’t stand to be in the same room as you.

Echo was the first to find out actually, when he caught you unprepared, head peering over your shoulder and looking into your sketchbook.

“Didn’t know you were into drawing.” He stated, and you slammed your sketchbook shut with a fright.

“You could give a girl a heart attack sneaking up on her like that.”

He laughed before settling in next to you. “What’s got you all jumpy?”

Just then, Hunter had returned from the office with Cid, a rare smile on his face, one hand hanging off his hip just right. Echo looked at the sight of his brother, then back at your dopey grin. “Oh. I get it.”

You’re daydreaming now, staring into nothing and thinking about that image, so lost in your imagination that you don’t realize that he’s actually in front of you now, pulling a chair backwards up to your table before sitting on it, legs straddling each side of the backing. You’ve never been more focused on anything in your life than you are at keeping your gaze on his face, and not the way his legs hang lazily open, confident and powerful.

“What's that sound?” He asks, no, states. His voice is like melted butter, and you feel like someone hit a factory reset button on your brain.

“Hello to you too.” You say, tucking your sketchbook back into your bag, leaning your chin on your hands.

“Right, sorry. Hi.” He reaches an arm out behind his head and scratches his hair, smiling slightly and looking almost bashful for a moment. “Sorry, don’t want you to think I’m being weird. Just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, can you describe it?” You ask, genuinely puzzled now. If this is what it takes to get Hunter to talk to you then fine, you’ll play the game.

“It’s a scratch, sorta. I can’t hear it now. But I’ve been hearing it for weeks, and it’s always by you.”

“Oh? Paying attention to me are you?” You chide, but the way his gaze holds yours makes you suck your breath back in your throat.

“I always pay attention to you.”

You’re both staring at each other now, your eyes wide in shock and his in panic. Did he just-

“Oh gods, I’m sorry, that was weird.”

You smile and shake your head, “No, no it’s not. I get what you mean.”

“Right.” He smiles again, like that rare one you saw a while back and pulls out his datapad. “Mind if I join you? Seemed like you might like the company.”

You bite your lip trying not to burst into a grin. “Not at all, table’s yours.”

The two of you pass the time in a comfortable silence when you decide to risk it. You cautiously, carefully pull out your sketchbook and charcoals, continuing on the page you had left off. His tattoos are much easier to sketch from this distance, and you rarely get the chance to see him up close. You’ve barely begun to scratch across the flimsi in the book when his gaze shoots up, his eyes wild as he looks up at you. “That’s the noise.”

Your cheeks are burning now as he lunges toward the book, not maliciously you know, but your reaction time isn’t quick enough. He’s got your sketchbook now, and begins flipping through the pages.

“Do you… do these yourself?”

You nod, silently, eyes wide as you watch him flip through the pages. Nothing really incriminating is in the first few pages, and you’re hoping he bores himself before he gets too far. “Keeps me busy when the students are testing.” It’s not a lie. You had started drawing in your classroom, but your subject had switched from landscapes to portraits the second you had met the batch. You think you might escape as he slows down turning, when he hits the first page.

“Hey, it’s Wreck!” He grins, holding the book closer to his face. “You got his scar and everything just right.”

“Thank you, Hunter, but can I have it-”

“This one of Tech and Echo is great too. You’re really talented mesh’la.”

“Hunter…” your voice trails off into a near beg as he flips the page, and you watch in horror as his cheeks slowly turn as red as his bandana, and his fingers ghost over the page. You know which one he’s on, the first time you had drawn him. He was sleeping against the back wall of the cantina while you watched Tech and Wrecker play sabacc. His hair was slightly tousled, and you were seated on the tattooed side of his body, and relished the challenge of the shading and detail. In the end, it was a really pretty picture. The issue being just that–he was so fun to draw you couldn’t stop.

There were only two more drawings after the first, one of him and Omega and the other the more detailed piece you had been working on. You had your head in your hands and refused to look at him fully, allowing yourself to peek through one partially unobscured eye between your fingers. What you saw wasn’t disgust or embarrassment on Hunter’s face, but something new, something foreign. He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment before something seemed to click in his brain, and he settled comfortably in the chair. You watched as he carefully plucked at the fingers of the glove on his left hand, before setting it down on the table in front of you. The now uncovered hand moved to rest closer to you, fingertips touching yours.

“Figured I could give you something new to draw.”

Your eyes widened as you looked over at him, and the smile he gave you made you want to blossom into something new, it filled you with an inexplicable warmth. You looked at the newly exposed skin, and watched as he flexed his fingers. You hadn’t realized the tattoos appeared to cover the entirety of his left side, and couldn’t help but move to trace the bony fragments and ligaments inked onto his skin.

“Did it hurt?”

He shrugged, moving his fingers along yours in a dance as you explored the newfound territory of his hand. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure of it,” you snorted and took the book from his hand. “I’m sorry… for invading your privacy like that.”

“It’s an honor to be considered worthy of your talent.” The statement dripped in something akin to adoration, but he stated it plainly, as if it was the truest thing in the world. He moved your hand onto his wrist, where he used it to gently push the sleeve of his tunic up his forearm. Slowly but surely, more and more black inked bones made themselves visible to you. “If I had an ounce of your talent, I don’t think I’d ever stop drawing you.” You looked up from where you were focused on his arm, and hadn’t realized how close you two were leaning. His eyes looked into yours with such a focused intensity you weren’t sure how you hadn’t melted on impact. The hand not holding yours moved to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you cautiously. “I’m sorry for being so off-putting.”

“You’re not off putting,” you whispered, leaning into the cradle of his hand, “‘m just shy.”

“You don’t need to be, not with me.” His eyes left yours for just a fleeting moment, wandering to look at your lips. “Is this okay?”

“Better than okay,” you breathed, and he smiled at the response, surging closer to you and closing the gap in a flash of lips and the tiniest, over eager clink of teeth. Hunter tasted like cinnamon and something warm and spicy, like the smell of bourbon and a sweet dessert, but also something heavy and leather. He moved to cradle the back of your head as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you still hadn’t convinced yourself this was even real. How long had you been pining for him, hoping for this day? You weren’t letting a moment go to waste, and your hand moved up to feel the soft tresses resting along his neck, weaving your fingers on his skull. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that until the moment was broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Very close to you.

Cid was standing at the table, hands on her hips, shooting daggers into both of your faces. “Look, kid, I let it happen because I’m tired of this ‘will they, won’t they,’ but I ain’t running a brothel. Don’t make me get the broom.” You blushed again and Hunter let out a breathy sigh, but simply smiled at Cid.

“Can’t promise it won’t happen again.” He handed her a few credits for his tab and a tip, and stood around the table reaching for your hands. “Wanna go someplace quiet?”

Please. You’d go sit in a trash compactor if he kept looking at you like that. “Okay.”

He pulled you up, an arm snaking around your waist as the two of you left the cantina, feeling less like two stubborn adults and more like the lovesick kids you saw in classes. You had finally caught your breath when he took the moment to lean down close to your ear.

“You know… I’ve got more tattoos I could show you?”

#hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #bad batch hunter #the bad batch #sw the bad batch

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who-needs-sleep-not-me · 8 months ago

Text

Gojo x geto song is be nice to me by the front bottom and people don’t want to hear it.

As much as I love the edits of gojo and geto to mr. Loverman and line without a hook by Ricky Montgomery these songs are not what there relationship is and here why.

Mr loverman

In my eyes this song is about a couple that has come to a end but not do to a break up or something like that but something that is out of their control the line “the ways in which you talk to me have me wishing’ I was gone” adds to this idea is show that speaker has lost the talking about in the song and “ oh what am I supposed to do with out you?” Also helps this theory. Now but to gojo and geto sure you can say that there relationship come to a end out of their control but I would say that geto wanted to break ties with gojo so this song would only fit with gojo for the end was on of his control but we are looking for a song that shows both side of their relationship not just one side.

Line without a hook

This song is about a toxic relationship the has one person giving every part of their self’s to keep their relationship from ending but know matter how much they love and tried the relationship still ended, and now they’re left alone trying to figure out if it was something that they did wrong in the relationship in trying to fix it this theory is supported by the lines “do you like it when I’m away? If I went and hurt my body would you love me the same” and “mama never really learned how to live by herself” show that the speaker comes from a family of toxic relationships and is constantly doubting themselves and willing to hurt themselves to keep a relationship now, this can relate back to Gojo and geto for it shows how at the KFC breakup scene gojo was almost willing to give up any team to keep geto from leaving, but also has the same problem as the previous song as this only shows one part of the relationship part not geto’s

Be nice to me

Now back to the Magnum opus of songs, this song shows both sides of Gojo and geto‘s relationship. I believe that the first verse of this song represents both Gojo and geto in the jujutsu world since they’re both special grade sorcerer’s. They are hold up as the strongest in jjk’s society even though they’re only high school students who are maybe 17 to 16 so them having the world on their backs, would be the lines. “ I have boulders on my shoulders collarbones begin to crack” I think this line will represent the weight of the world on both Gojo and Geto’s backs and the line “there’s very little left in me and it’s never coming back” represents geto after the star plasma mission I feel like that was where he mainly fell because when he saw Gojo and Rika had died pieces of him that believed in supporting the week and being the strong had broke off that was parts of him that he never got back so we don’t have the original geto anymore. “There’s very little left of him”.

And the line “there are certain things you ask me and there’s certain things that I lack”is also back to ghetto. I believe this is directed towards Gojo and the idea of “you ask for me to be a strong as you and say that we are strong together, but you have surpassed me and I won’t be able to get to your level. I won’t be able to stand on the same pedestal that you were on that is a thing that I lack”

The line “in beginning we were winning” I feel like shows how and the beginning of Gojo and geto‘s relationship after they were done with their fighting and they actually got along. They were on this high of believing that they were the strongest together and that they could change the sorcery world that they would be able to win the game with the cards that they have been dealt with in life

The line “there’s no meaning to the words, but we still sing the songs”. Well, I feel like this shows that after the star plasma vessel, how Gojo and ghetto still tried to pretend that they were OK that they were still the strongest, even though Gojo and Geto were suffering the effects of their failure so the words that they were saying didn’t have any meaning to anymore, but they had this song and dance routine memorize so well that they were able to fake it.

And the line “if we all left it alone, I’m sure it will work itself out”. I feel like that’s Gojo when it comes to the entire situation Gojo comes from a clan that didn’t see him as a human, but saw him as a weapon so when he had problems that showed up in his life, the main way how they were fix. It is just ignore it or tell him to suck it up and be the strongest so I think Gojo took that Point of view and the situation goes to believe that if he just left it alone long enough ghetto would come back to how he was he believed that if he did what his clan did with him that maybe things would be different because gojo hasn’t known anything different that has always been his life if he leave it alone if you are the strongest nothing can hurt you

And then the line “you’re a killer and I’m your best friend. I think it’s unfair. Your situation” does obvious coming from Gojo because I see this as after Goja finds out what ghetto did to the village geto is now officially a killer and Gojo was his best friend, his one and only, and after the star plasm vessel. Gojo knows how geto feels when he eats the curses. He understands geto situation and he finds it unfair. That’s why he wanted him to come back with him to help him fix his society, but they had two different points of view fixing it. They both had the same problem, but they had different ways absolving it.

And then the chorus of the song is, “you say I’m changing, I’m sorry I didn’t know had to stay the same.” I feel like the first line you’re changing is coming from Gojo and I’m sorry I didn’t know how to say the same coming from geto and geto taking that as a attack against him because geto knows that he has changed geto knows that his ideals are very different from what he started off as and he deep down, knows that his ideals are wrong. He knows that his ideas won’t get him far, but he’s already too far deep to Change anything he already done the murder. He already has become a curse user there’s no turning back.

No back to go to the lines I try to show motion, but my lines went wet. My eyes went wet. Shows Gojo like I said, growing up in a clan, always being told that he’s the strongest and strongest doesn’t show emotion. Strongest doesn’t feel fear. The strongest doesn’t cry Gojo has been emotionally stunted for nearly his entire life. No thanks to juju and goes to clan so he does try to express his emotions when he does try that, and feel emotion like that. It is hard for him because he’s never taught how to properly execute these emotions how to properly deal with them.

Your flashlight and a dark room for blackouts loneliness you were all we had left after it was all filtered out. I feel like this represents go. I’m not gonna ghetto state. He was in this dark state of mine, and Gojo was supposed to be his flash, but after all the missions and all the stuff like that, Gojo himself wasn’t brightened up to bright geto

And the lines you’re a werewolf and I am a full moon dates that between the two of them one is the moonlight and the other one is a regular person most of the time, but once they see the person, the moonlight they shift into something different they become someone else someone they can’t control and I feel like this is perfect for for Gojo and geto and a relationship

And then the line “you’re changing don’t worry you don’t have to stay the same.” I feel like this is from Gojo to geto. This is Gojo saying that I recognize that you have changed after what has happened with the star plasm vessel mission and I have also change and he doesn’t geto to be the same. This is why I think this song being nice to me is the perfect song for Gojo ghetto because it shows the new ones of both of the relationships and how it changes over their time at did tech and the star vessel had changed them and shape them into the people that we see today again this is just my opinion if you feel like I’m wrong or you have something to add in please do.

#jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk geto #fandom ships #fandom #song lyrics #gojo x geto #satosugu #jjk satosugu #sorry for bad english

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heich0e · 2 years ago

Note

pleaseee can we get some nai college head cannons!

this is not headcanons my apologies

part of the trigun college!au (nai/f!reader)

You hear the jingle of keys against the marble countertop down the hallway. The thump of a backpack hitting the floor. The swish of plastic bags. The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to you.

“Hey, I picked up takeout from—“

Nai turns the corner into Vash’s bedroom, one hand curling around the doorframe as his tousled, white-blonde hair comes into view.

“Oh.”

You watch every trace of softness in his face harden. Harsh lines and ice overtaking the momentary glimpse of warmth you’d caught in his expression.

“Hi!” You wave from your place in Vash’s bed. You have a cozy blanket wrapped around you and your laptop resting in the cradle of your crossed legs. Your essay sits neglected on the screen, forgotten now even in spite of the looming deadline, your eyes glued instead to the boy hovering in his brother’s doorway.

“Where’s Vash?”

Nai has a tone that makes people flinch. You’ve seen it happen countless times with your very eyes—on campus, at the convenience store around the corner from he and Vash’s apartment, even at the rare party he frequents. But no matter how terse his words might be, you never do.

“He accidentally stole Nicholas’ laptop charger when we were on campus earlier, he just ran over to bring it back before Nico’s night class.”

At the mere mention of the brunette, Knives’ expression turns even more severe; his upper lip curls in visible disgust.

“He’ll be right back,” you add, smiling softly.

Why are you smiling?

Nai spins on his heel to slink away, but you stop him.

“Did you say you got takeout?”

“I got my brother and I dinner,” he makes sure to emphasize who the meal was meant for, though he doesn’t spare you a glance over his shoulder.

You laugh into your fist as he slinks away back towards the kitchen, and you hear him clunking around huffily as you return your attention to your assignment.

You reach for your cellphone after rewording a sentence that really doesn’t matter instead of adding another one that does, pulling up your text conversation with the boy whose bed you’re sitting in.

(6:15pm) Nai’s home! Hurry back or he’ll kick me out again plssss

As soon as you hit send, you hear a suspicious jingling from somewhere in the room. It’s too conveniently timed to be a coincidence. You slip your laptop off your lap, pushing it to the side, and lean your body over the edge of the bed to peer down at where you’d heard the sound coming from. Lo and behold, Vash’s cellphone is resting on the ground next to his bedside table. It had probably fallen off the bed while the two of you had been toiling away at your respective school work, just before he made a mad dash to campus when he realized he’d accidentally come home with two laptop chargers instead of one—and gotten a strongly worded text message from the other charger’s owner (who’d obviously just come to the same conclusion.)

You sigh, plucking Vash’s phone up from the ground. He’s constantly losing the thing, or cracking the screen, which is a little ridiculous considering the brightly-coloured case he has it wrapped in—cute little cartoon characters are printed onto the red plastic, and he’s added various stickers (and scratches) to accompany them. You’re laughing a little at the design when the phone jingles again.

6:16PM - New Message (1) Nai: Hi. That girl is here again

6:16PM - New Message (2) Nai: She’s in your bedroom

6:16PM - New Message (3) Nai: When are you coming back? Where are you? If you (…)

You snort to yourself as message after message pops up on the screen, the latter part of the last one lost to the cut of the notification preview. You know Vash’s passcode, but you also know it’s not your place to see what his brother is texting him—not that the younger sibling would care.

But you suspect someone else might.

You pad out to the kitchen, Vash’s phone clutched in your hand.

Nai is standing in the kitchen in front of a mountain of takeout containers. They’re from a fancy restaurant uptown you know he likes, because Vash had mentioned it on a few occasions. Nai tends to have more… particular tastes than his little brother, who you’re fairly certain would be happy to eat out of a convenience store for the rest of his natural life.

The elder twin hears you come in and glowers at you at you hover in front of the island in the open concept kitchen, the expanse of marble separating you.

“He forgot his phone,” you say, holding up the device in front of you demonstratively.

Nai’s brow creases, his lips tugging down at the corners in an even deeper frown than before. You watch as he lifts his hand to rub at his temple in frustration.

Knives hates it when Vash doesn’t have his phone. Or forgets to charge it. Or loses it. Or cracks the screen. Or does anything that impedes him from getting in touch with him.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you assure the elder of the two brothers, setting the phone down on the countertop. “He left a while ago and he was coming right home.”

The phone is snatched up from the counter almost as soon as your hand has pulled away from it, and Nai shoves it into the pocket of his joggers. You watch as he reaches for his keys next.

“Are you going to find him?” you ask, and Nai ignores you, tugging his jacket on.

“If you leave now, you’ll probably just end up missing each other. He’s probably already in the elevator!” you call to the blonde’s retreating form as he stalks towards the front door angrily.

“It’s not even dark out, and campus is only 10 minutes away.”

He stuffs his feet harshly into his sneakers, though he’s careful not to crease the backs.

You glance around furtively, looking for another excuse to keep him from needlessly going chasing after Vash.

“Hey, if you go, do you mind if I have some of this?”

Nai whips around just in time to see you leaning over the counter to slip a finger under the edge of one of the takeout container lids to peek inside. He crosses the apartment towards you in three long strides, leaning over and snatching the box out from under your hand with a sneer.

“Was that steak?” you ask, eyes wide and sparkling, your hands clasped in front of your heart.

“None of your business,” he snaps.

It is steak. Wagyu. Cooked to a perfect medium rare.

Just the way he likes it.

He opens his mouth to snap at you again, probably about touching things that don’t belong to you, or getting the hell out of his apartment, when the front door swings open.

“Honey I’m hoooooooo—”

Vash spots Knives sneering down at you on the other side of the apartment, craning over where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, faltering to a stop. The fist-full of heavy convenience store bags he has clutched in his hands rustle as the swing in his grip.

“Oh, hi Nai! You’re home early!” Vash smiles when he sees his brother, his eyes crinkling at the corners behind the round lenses of his glasses. He kicks his tattered boots off clumsily in the doorway before approaching you both. “I got us dinner! There’s lots, so we can all share!”

You see a twitch of irritation in his older brother’s jaw. Nai takes a step back from you.

“You left the house without your cellphone again.”

Vash’s eyes widen in the wake of his brother’s words. He uses his free hand to pat along his pockets, and then winces sheepishly when he realizes his mistake. “Sorry, sorry! Had to run to campus, and I must have left it—”

Nai reaches into his pocket and retrieves the device, holding it out to his little brother.

“What’s the point of a mobile phone if it stays in one place?” Nai mutters sullenly.

Vash takes it appreciatively, tucking it into his own pocket. Then he spots the containers on the counter.

“Woah, what’s all this?” he asks excitedly, craning up onto his tiptoes to peek around his brother’s shoulder at the food on the counter behind him. “Did you pick up food too?”

“My meeting with the department chair was shorter than I expected, so I thought it would be nice to eat together. I didn’t realize we’d have company.” Nai’s gaze flickers resentfully to you from the corner of his eye.

“Well, there’s so much food here now, it’s a good thing there’s three of us!” Vash chirps happily, turning to you. “You’ll stay, right?”

Your friend’s face is alight with expectation.

Behind him, Nai is scowling.

You smile brightly.

“Of course!”

#trigun college!au #nai x reader #knives millions x reader #trigun drabble #trigun writing #writing #liv got mail

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slamminslamminmcgill · 2 years ago

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Ok ok ok. You mentioned how you wanted to snort coke off of lalos dick…. Can you write a Drabble about that cuz omg- 🫣🫣

yes bc i am insane 🖤 disclaimer: coke dick is not a myth but i refuse to believe lalo gets it (i also have never done cocaine lul)

warning: intox (cocaine)

“Are you serious? How have you not tried it before?”

Lalo asked that with the same incredulity as if you had just said you’d never eaten an apple before. To him, cocaine and other Schedule II narcotics were normal, boring even. That makes sense. You’d imagine that handling literal bricks of it day in and day out would desensitize you. But he had to know that you were far from the only person that had never tried coke. Most people hadn't.

"I don't know, man! I'd never even seen coke before I met you! Isn't it dangerous?" You asked.

Lalo shrugged. "It can be, yeah, but you just gotta know what you're doing." He walked over to his dresser and cracked open a drawer, rifling through it as he talked to you. "You gotta know how to dose it, how to handle it, and how to stop doing it once you start. That last one's important." He pulled out a locked box and set it on the dresser.

"Right, yeah. I guess that makes sense." You rationalized. Lalo seemed to know what he was doing. This was his career, no, his whole life. He must know how to handle it. You thought of his younger cousin, Tuco, who seemed to snort anything he could get his hands on. Lalo certainly had better self-control than that.

"Most importantly though," Lalo unlocked the box and pulled something out. He turned around to show you what it was: a tiny bag of white powder. Unsurprising. “You gotta know your stuff’s legit. A lot of shitty dealers will cut it or try to sell you something else entirely. I don’t sell anything I wouldn’t snort, and I don’t snort anything I don’t sell. It's a matter of integrity.” He tossed you the 8-ball so you could examine it.

You squished the tiny bag, pressing the powder between your fingertips, the texture obfuscated through the plastic. The way it moved reminded you of powdered sugar. It's funny how something so insidious can seem so benign up close. "Question," you asked, your eyes glued to the baggie.

"Shoot." Lalo replied.

"It's a stupid question."

"I bet it is," Lalo chuckled, enamored by your relative innocence, "Go for it, chiquito."

You led the bag away from your face so you could see your boyfriend. "Is coke dick real? Like you can't get hard when you do it?"

Lalo was stunned. "I've... never had that problem. Where did you hear about that?"

Good question. Where the hell did you hear about that? A junkie friend? The internet? It felt like multiple sources had contributed to this theory. "I dunno, actually. Guess it's just a myth."

"Oh, it definitely is." Lalo strode towards you until you were close enough for him to pull your body against his. Keeping one hand on your waist, he used your momentary distraction to pluck the 8-ball from your fingers. "Want me to prove it to y-?"

"Yes." You said with literally no hesitation, not even letting him finish his sentence. You may have been naïve, but you weren't stupid. Any chance for your man to whip it out was a chance you were going to take.

"Oh, wow, someone's eager, huh? Good boy." He cracked open the tiny bag and stuck his pinky in, scooping the product up with his fingernail. "So, I'm guessing you know what a line is, right? Well, this is called a bump." He held it up to his nostril and snorted it, the powder disappearing into his sinuses. Once he did, his head flew back and he groaned. "Mierda, está bien... (Shit, that's good.)" When he looked at you again, you could see that his brown eyes were almost entirely black, irises being swallowed by his pupils. He nudged you off him so he could unbuckle his belt.

You watched him like a research scientist trying to document the effects of the substance. His hands were trembling as he pulled his belt off. He held the baggie in his teeth to keep his hands free while he undressed. He kept sniffling like he was trying to suck up every molecule left behind. His brow was furrowed. His teeth were clenched. You'd never seen him like this. He looked unhinged. You couldn't tell if your body's growing arousal was from fear or desire. Plus, you weren't sure if you were supposed to talk, but you couldn't bear the silence. "It looks... intense..."

"It is, it is." Lalo laughed as he tugged his boxer briefs down. Now that he had a hand to spare, he took the bag out of his mouth and stroked himself. His cock was already at half-mast before he even touched it, and it didn't take long for him to get the rest up. "You want some? You're gonna love it."

You knew he meant the coke, but your eyes were somewhere else. Your gaze was locked on the bulging veins in both his hand and his cock. Coke dick really was just a myth. You'd have what he was having. "Yeah... yeah, gimme some..."

Lalo sneered and put his hand on your shoulder. "Then get on your fucking knees." He growled and pushed you down before you could do it yourself.

You dropped to your knees on the plush bedroom carpet. You went to grab onto him, but he swatted your hand away as he continued to pump himself.

“No, no. Watch me. I’m gonna give you a line, okay?” Lalo’s voice was eerily nurturing. It usually was when he talked to you, but you expected the coke to change that somehow. He took his hand off himself to open the bag, scooped some out, and placed a pretty sizable bump on his shaft. He hastily poked it into a line. “You know how to snort something, right? Just hold one nostril and sniff. It's not hard. It'll hit you hard, though, so just be ready."

As Lalo held himself steady, you leaned in, poking one nostril shut, and snorted the whole line as quickly as you could. He wasn't kidding. It did hit you hard. It hit you upside the head like a heavyweight champion, and you recoiled just so. You pulled off dry-heaving as it hit you, still holding his dick like a lifeline. When you remembered where you were and what you were doing, one thing, one solitary goal became your purpose, and all your other worries melted away.

Cock.

Cooooock...

Ever the desperate slut, you latched your mouth onto him, slurping up whatever trace of the drug that was stuck to his skin. Though honestly, he was a drug in and of himself. And you were a junkie. You were a junkie who'd do anything to get a hit.

Lalo knew that. He knew how easy you were. He knew you'd do anything for him, so he gladly took advantage of that. He laughed and clenched your hair in his fist as you serviced him.

"Good boy."

#anon #ask #better call saul #bcs #better call saul x reader #bcs x reader #better call saul smut #better call saul imagine #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca hcs #intox kink #intox tw

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bumblebee-be · 2 years ago

Text

i need somebody to pull me out of this grave

Teen and Up Audiences | 2k | Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

also on ao3

Five times Eddie yells for Buck and one time he whispers

or:

Eddie flashes back to the events of the night before while sitting in the hospital chapel. Bobby finds him there after awhile and the two have an important discussion about handling their new circumstance and what it means for them individually

5 times Eddie yells

Buck!

He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that Buck was already dead, that yelling wouldn’t do any good. The first shout cracked open something in his chest, spilling poison into his veins. It didn’t matter that he was injured too- he was moving. Buck wasn’t. Buck wasn’t moving .

His world narrowed to one pinpoint- Buck hanging midair, not moving, not calling back to him. Nothing. Helpless, vulnerable. Bile rose in Eddie’s throat but he ignored it, starting to scramble up the ladder on shaking legs, gripping the sides with trembling hands as he tried to force himself to breathe.

It didn’t matter that he was essentially climbing up a lightning rod in the middle of the storm. Let lightning strike twice, he thought, let it take him out too. Just let him reach Buck first.

Buck!

He went up the ladder as quickly as he could manage, shouting, begging for any sign that Buck could hear him. He had lost his breath, he could barely manage the one word shout. I’m coming, it said, I’m coming for you, I swear.

His gaze didn’t stray even for a moment, desperate for any sign of life from the limp form of his best friend. His partner. His coparent. Chris’s second father. One of the two people in this world Eddie doesn’t think he can ever possibly live without.

Buck!

He was almost there, so close. Hang on, please, I’m almost there. I’m going to get you to safety. There was no response, still, as his voice broke and the plea tore its way from his throat, burning as it left and leaving an empty space inside him that was growing by the moment. Desperation clawed at his chest, tearing at his throat, flooding his veins with a burning chill that was worse than being hit by lightning.

Buck!

He was at the top now, looking over the edge at the lifeless body below him. He could see his face- barely. His expression was slack, not even a twitch. Nothing. He looked-

No. No, he’s not dead, he cannot be dead. Eddie shook his head, his breaths gasping pants now as he grabbed the line, yanking on it with everything he had. It wasn’t logical- he knows that, now- but at the time all he could think was in my arms, I need him in my arms. I need him to know I have him .

A sob ripped itself from him as he failed to pull his partner up, defeat beginning to cloud his brain, panic clawing at his throat, tears threatening to choke him.

Can you hear me?!

Buck!

A desperate plea, begging for any sign of life- anything to hold onto aside from the red line connecting him to the person that dragged him to safety when he was convinced he was drawing his last breath, who he reached for with the last of his strength, who saved his and his sons lives in more ways than Eddie can ever define.

Eddie has experienced the worst of what he thought the world had to throw at him. But this- this is the worst pain he has ever felt.

Need more slack!

He finally gave in, accepting that if he couldn’t pull Buck to himself, he could deliver him to the only other people he could ever trust with his life. He felt the distance between them as a physical force as it grew, the invisible tether that has always connected them straining as the red line grew longer, taking Buck further and further from Eddie.

He was choking on it, he couldn’t yell anymore. The further Buck got, the less he could breathe. Panic clouded his brain, blocking out anything that was not Buck’s lifeless form that kept getting smaller and smaller.

Buck! Buck, talk to me! Please, c’mon, come on Buck!

He doesn’t remember getting down the ladder. He doesn’t remember running toward the ambulance. The next thing he knew, he was shoving Bobby- shoving his Captain- aside, desperate to lay eyes on Buck. To see his chest rise and fall, to watch the breaths leave his mouth, to feel his pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips.

Bobby didn’t let him, holding him back and shoving him away. Eddie didn’t hear anything he said other than you’re driving! And Eddie- Eddie could do that. He could drive, he could get Buck to the hospital in time. Three minutes. That’s what Bobby said.

Eddie pulled into the hospital two minutes later, slamming the ambulance into gear and leaping from the car. He bolted around to the back, reaching the doors just in time for them to be taking Buck on. He knows he shoved someone- he doesn’t remember who- but it didn’t matter because he was on top of Buck, beginning compressions.

If Buck’s heart wasn’t going to beat on its own, Eddie would do it for him.

Then he was being pulled off, and voices were shouting, and it all became a blur. Bobby yanked him away as a nurse swore they would do all they could.

Not enough! Eddie wanted to shout, All you can isn’t enough unless you save him!

But his voice was raw and his throat burned and the words refused to come out as Bobby directed him away.

The last several hours have been a blur.

Eddie’s in the hospital’s chapel now.

He doesn’t remember coming here.

He doesn’t know why he’s here.

He hasn’t prayed in a long, long time. He decided- he’s not totally sure when- that if there was a God, He had nothing to offer Eddie but false hope and empty promises. He decided he would no longer beg someone who wasn’t listening for help, that he would never beg for help again. Not when he can help himself.

But he can’t help Buck.

So he’s here. His St. Christopher medal is clenched tightly in his fist, tears burn his eyes. His cheeks are wet and his throat is so raw from screaming and sobbing that even breathing hurts. He stares at his hand, at the St. Christopher medal resting in it. He doesn’t look up at the altar. He can’t.

He doesn’t think he wants to pray. He doesn’t know. He needs- he needs to do something. But praying now… it feels false, like a ploy to convince himself he’s somehow helping. But is faith really faith if it’s only for the security of knowing you’ve tried everything?

It all replays in his head, the shouts echoing in his mind on a continuous loop. If he closes his eyes, all he sees is Buck’s body- his corpse hanging from the line that Eddie clipped him to. The ladder Eddie let him go up. The rain falling all around them, beating down on Buck’s pale face. The flashing lights all around them. Everything a blur aside from the sharp focus on Buck.

He’s already thrown up at least once since they took Buck away, but nausea still twists in his stomach, acid rising in his throat. Clenching his jaw tightly, he closes his fist around the pendant, the edges biting into his skin. Saint of travelers, protective against sudden death. He and Chris were going to give Buck one for his next birthday. Eddie welcomes the pain, squeezing tighter as he clenches his jaw, silent tears dripping down his cheeks.

“You saved his life, Eddie.”

Eddie starts at the voice, jerking his head around just in time to see Bobby slide into the pew next to him. He looks like a wreck, his face exhausted and eyes bloodshot. Bobby doesn’t often look old, but right now he seems weighed down by his years, the lines in his face sharp and heavy. This is killing him, just as it’s killing Eddie.

“I failed him,” Eddie bites out, looking away again. “I fucking- he died, Bobby. I didn’t fucking save him.”

“His heart is beating now.”

“But he may never open his eyes again,” Eddie chokes out, tears flowing faster now as he lifts his fist to his forehead, hitting it lightly over and over. “He might never wake up.”

Bobby’s fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist, pulling his fist away gently. Eddie starts to fight, but finds he doesn’t even have the energy to do that.

“You got to him in time, Eddie. That line saved him, gave him the chance he has now.”

“It should have been me.”

Bobby is silent for a moment and Eddie turns to look at him. He sighs deeply, then meets Eddie’s gaze. “That’s what Buck said. When you were shot. And before that, with the well. He begged me to let him go down after you when you cut your line.”

The breath is punched from Eddie’s lungs, escaping him in a sharp breath. “He-?”

“I told him no.” Bobby looks towards the altar. “I told him we didn’t need two cut lines. He was desperate, Eddie. We all- we thought you were dead. But we couldn’t tell him, not then. He was infuriated we would even imply you might not still be down there. You all think he’s dead. That’s what he said to me, when I told him we couldn’t dig our way to you. He looked- God, Eddie, he looked so betrayed that we might have lost even a bit of faith in finding you.”

“He never-” Eddie’s breathless, his head spinning. “He never- no one ever told me-”

“You found your way back to us, Eddie. To him. Now you have to trust he’s going to do the same.”

Eddie hasn’t stopped crying and a fresh wave of tears burns as they track down his face. His voice is small, broken, when he begs, “And what if he doesn’t?”

Bobby’s jaw ticks and his expression cracks and Eddie realizes how fucking unfair this is. Bobby has already lost two children, he can’t lose another. Eddie should be comforting him, not the other way around.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No,” Bobby cuts him off, raising a hand. “No, we aren’t doing that. Not now, not yet. We have to believe. I’m going to pray. And you…” Bobby looks at him and his expression softens. “You should go to him, Eddie. You need to. You and Chris, if you think he’ll be up for it.”

“Buck would never want Chris to see him like this,” Eddie whispers, the thought shattering his heart.

“He needs to hear you, feel you. Both of you.” Bobby smiles a small, sad smile. “He needs to remember why he has to fight.”

Eddie draws in a sharp, shaky breath and nods. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Bobby turns his gaze back to the altar, his breath trembling as he inhales slowly. “I’m going to try. That’s all any of us can do right now, and we have to. For Buck.”

Eddie nods again, firmer this time. “For Buck.”

+1 time he whispers

Eddie settles into the chair beside Buck’s bed shakily, his hands trembling as he studies Buck’s face. This is… it’s all wrong. The tube breathing for him. The slack expression on his face. The hospital gown. The beeping machines. All of it. It’s wrong.

Usually, Buck looks peaceful when he sleeps. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite things, strange as that sounds. Watching the lines and anxiety disappear, fading into a sweet innocence and openness that Eddie can’t believe he’s allowed to witness.

Shakily, Eddie takes Buck’s hand between both of his, pressing the St. Christopher pendant into his palm and squeezing lightly. He lifts one hand to Buck’s forehead, gently brushing aside the loose curls. They’re free of gel right now, washed away by the rain. Eddie loves Buck’s natural hair, but right now all it does is send a sharp lance of pain through Eddie’s chest. He clasps Buck’s hand with both of his again, lowering his head to press his forehead against their joined hands.

“Please,” he whispers. “ Buck, please come back to me.”

#evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie and buck #buck eddie #buckandeddie #Eddie Diaz #worried eddie diaz #bobby nash #Buddie #buddie fic #buddie911 #buddie 911 #buck whump #6.11 spec #tals writes

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skzoologist · 1 year ago

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Hi, your memes are really funny and made me laugh and you sound pretty cool

anyway, based on something that happened to me today, I'd like to submit a request for Bae. (They sound cute to b e honest)

A crack one shot of Bae and whatever member(s) of your choosing having to endure the awkwardness of hearing other people fucking in the next room/upstairs.(I don't really want to violate your guidelines of no smut, so that's why I thought of crack)

Personally I think it would be a really funny atmosphere to work with, what with the cringe/smirk/blank faces and the squeaking of bed springs

word count: ~950

warnings: none, the boys are all just mortified and laughing at the other

genre: crack

a/n: Hey-ho! Thank you for being the first brave one to send a non-anon ask to my humble blog, and thank you for your kind words! I'm glad my memes made you laugh, that was my goal, and I will definitely make some more every chance I get. I'm also sorry you had to experience that, hopefully you didn't have to hear it again between you requesting and me replying. It's always awful to hear it, especially with friends over. But I finally wrote this (sadly based on my own experiences, so I feel you), and I hope it is what you wanted.

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Bae was tired.

Their band was on a tour, performing on the bright stage for hours, day after day. The atmosphere was always high, as if the air itself was filled with electricity, further amplified by the fans' shouting. But every member shared that same enthusiasm, shouting back and pouring their soul into their performances.

Of course, Bae was the same.

He always gave his best, no matter what. He lived and breathed for his fans, and in return, he got their support. They were what made him, well, him, the idol they all saw.

But he was so tired.

For once, he just wanted to sleep for a whole day, instead of rehearsing between every performance, even if it was just for a short minute.

That was why he immediately made a beeline for his hotel room the moment they arrived back, only a tired, lazy wave of his hand seen before he disappeared. No one stopped him, they all just mumbled out an equally exhausted goodbye to him in return.

As his feet reached the inside of the room, Bae took off his jumper -getting his arm stuck inside and huffing as a result- and shoes, just haphazardly throwing them onto the floor. He would put them away tomorrow, but he was just done with today.

Just as he was about to finally sit down on the bed after changing into some light nightwear, his lips pulled into a line as he remembered he had to do his nightly skin care routine. How he hated being an idol at that moment. Stupid needing to look good. Stupid jumper. Stupid cream that almost got into his eye. Agh!

With a final huff, he put the lid back on the tube, the last step of his routine finally done. After carding his hand through his hair in frustration, he sighed and dragged his tired body to the bed.

Even though he missed his own bed, this one looked just as inviting at that moment, if not even more.

The moment his head hit the pillow, it was empty, finally free from the endlessly circling questions inside. He was at peace, his exhausted body winding down and relaxing. It didn't take long for his consciousness to start slipping, going towards the land of dreams.

Until he heard a thud from above.

Well, whoever was above may have fallen down, who knew. So he let it go and went back to his journey to dreamland.

Until he heard another thud. Louder than the previous, followed by more questionable sounds.

'Maybe... maybe the person fell over again?' - Bae thought, his eyes having popped open and his brows furrowed in confusion.

He laid there, his ears honed onto any sound that came from above, even though a part of him didn't want to know what was happening there. But he didn't listen to that part, no, he was waiting in silence.

And then it happened. The thing he feared the most.

He heard a moan.

No matter how much he wanted to live his life in denial, he couldn't ignore the loud sounds coming from above. He tried shutting his eyes again, to try and sleep, even with a pillow tightly clutched to his ears, but nothing worked! So he just sat up, deep disgust and annoyance etched into his frail features, not knowing what to do. He might have brought his noise-cancelling headphones with him, but he wasn't sure where it was and he was too tired to search for it at that moment.

Bae didn't know how long he sat there for before light poured into his room, his door being opened by someone.

"Oh yea, Bae hyung can hear it too alright." - Felix commented, both amusement and pity on his face. "Oh my god, Hyung, your face!" - that was all the little squirrel could get out, before he doubled over in laughter, followed by Jeongin and Felix.

Bae simply stared at them, the lines on his face merely becoming more prominent. The three just laughed for a few minutes, Felix being the one who recovered the fastest and going to Bae's side. The other two soon followed, piling on top of Bae's bed and leaning on the male.

They were all quiet, which, in itself was a miracle, because if Bae knew anything about his band members, he knew they weren't quiet. Ever.

With a quick glance at them all, he could tell they felt just as awkward as him. Based on what Lix had said, all of them'd heard the sounds of the tango from above, preventing them from sleeping. That was why they seeked the other out, but it was still... awkward, to be in the other's presence, in the current situation.

Nobody said much, besides a few sentences of basic small talk.

So they sat there, in their own silence, grimacing -it would have been hilarious, had it not been for the squeaking and moaning-, until a particularly loud sound could be heard and something in Bae snapped. He took in a big breath and quietly cleared his throat.

"How about we go and take a walk around the hotel? We can check their buffet, like you wanted in the morning, Lixie." - at his gentle, deep voice, everyone startled a bit, used to the silence.

But soon their expressions brightened, an excited sunshine incarnate dragging Jisung -who was the closest to him- along out the door with frightening speed.

"Dal hyung, your favouritism is showing." - Jeongin cheekily commented, running away before Bae could even process what just happened. "Yah, Innie, you lying little menace, stop running so fast!"

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gripefroot · 1 year ago

Text

Crooked Ways [20/22]

Hiya! It's been a busy few weeks so I haven't gotten around to updating. I'm very sad to be winding down this story. I started it exactly one year ago and the writing process was so fun but also healing to me. I've been surprised and incredibly grateful at how many people have been reading and enjoying it. Thank you for every note and message. I treasure every single one 🫶

Just one night.

Vegeta scanned the crowds of dancers without much thought, occasionally letting his eyes drift over to tables or the buffet line. No one with a significant power level. None that took a second look at Bulma after coming face-to-face with Vegeta’s best scowl. In fact, a few people that found themselves in their way scuttled like crabs, leaving the space clear in front of them. If Bulma noticed, she didn’t say anything about it, each toss of her head sending more of that delicious scent straight to Vegeta’s nose, making him feel stupid.

Her usual perfume? Yeah, right, and he was the bastard child of the Supreme Kai.

“Food first?” Bulma asked, leaning closer to murmur into his ear. Vegeta breathed in deeply, eyelids fluttering madly as he tried to clear his throat and square his stance.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he intoned, hoping she didn’t hear his voice crack on the final word.

“I say let’s say hello to the people that’ll complain to Dad if I don’t,” she said with a sigh. He noticed her fingernails digging into his forearm, even through his suit coat. “Then our duty will be done and we can enjoy ourselves the rest of the night.”

“I thought you liked people.” Vegeta let her steer him towards a table, nonetheless.

“Usually,” Bulma said. “I…don’t like people who treat me like I’m still a little girl. And I don’t like anybody when I just want to be home in bed.”

“In bed with me, I hope.”

She cast him a look, but he saw her lips quiver enough to know she was hiding a giggle. “I don’t think I know how to sleep alone anymore, honestly,” she told him, and he didn’t bother stopping his chest from puffing out. Any Saiyan would be proud to hear such a thing.

Bulma may not know it, but her words (and smell) made Vegeta’s brain a fuzzy, pleased place to be despite being introduced to a mass of insignificant earthlings. He shook hands and nodded but never smiled. Not that it mattered. Bulma smiled enough for both of them.

Vegeta wondered if anyone else thought her smile was as perfect as he did.

If they did, he’d have to kill them.

He sensed a higher power level and recognized it before the voice reached out to them, before Bulma pulled herself away from laughing with an elderly man to address the interruption behind them. Vegeta’s mind already on killing, he didn’t bother an attempt at polite overtures when they turned to see Yamcha’s stupid smile and wave.

“Yamcha?” At least Bulma sounded more surprised than happy.

“Bet you didn’t expect to see me here.” Yamcha wiggled his eyebrows. “How are you doing, Bulma?”

“I’m…fine. Why are you here? How did you get a ticket?”

Vegeta noted that Bulma’s hand on his arm had gone cold. If he weren’t perfectly still to assess this new threat, he might have covered her hand to warm it (better blood flow meant a better chance of surviving a battle. Not for any other reason.)

“Your mom offered me one a while back,” Yamcha said, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “I would’ve come as your date, but after last time…”

Finally the man’s eyes landed on Vegeta. Vegeta saw fear and apprehension, dashed with disgust. He grinned. The memory of decking Yamcha on the Capsule Corp compound lawn was still something he treasured, sometimes relieving the moments at nighttime before falling asleep with a smile on his face.

“I think,” Yamcha said slowly, brows drawing together. “I think I don’t know what’s been going on at Capsule Corp since I left.”

“Why should you?” Bulma asked. Her nails dug fibers of fabric into Vegeta’s skin. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep him on edge. “You never call. Except to talk to my mom, apparently.”

“She called me!”

“What do you want, moron?” Vegeta barked. “We’re trying to enjoy ourselves.”

“Sheesh! I only came to say hi.”

“You said it. Now go.”

The brisk dismissal seemed to incense Yamcha, whose stance squared against Vegeta as if he were actually a threat. Vegeta laughed. “You don’t get to order me around!” Yamcha said. Then, eyes flicking between the pair of them, he added on, “Aren’t you supposed to be training to beat the Androids, Vegeta? But you’re playing boyfriend?”

“I’m strong enough to defeat the Androids ten times over,” Vegeta said softly, fists clenching in his pockets. “Naturally you wouldn’t know that level of power.”

“Stop.” Bulma tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said without looking in her direction. He only saw Yamcha, a face swimming in the crowd distorted with rage and hate.

“Oh, are you that powerful, really?” Yamcha sneered. “Are you a Super Saiyan like Goku yet? Or could he still put you in the ground like he did the first time?”

“Stop!” Bulma said again, this time louder. But now she said it to Yamcha, putting out an arm between them. “Yamcha, you jerk. Go away. If you won’t listen to Vegeta, who can break every bone in your body, listen to me.”

Yamcha’s expression twitched, gaze dropping from Vegeta’s face to look at Bulma. The drooping, puppyish frown that appeared made Vegeta laugh again, the noise harsh and delighted.

“Listen to the woman,” Vegeta ordered. “She doesn’t want you here.”

“I can see that,” Yamcha said bitterly. “If she chooses the enemy over her friends.”

“Now wait just a minute - ” Bulma’s exploding temper shut off when Vegeta clamped a hand over her mouth. It wasn’t worth it: Yamcha had turned tail the moment he finished his parting shot, disappearing into the crowd. Her fingernails dug into the back of his hand to pull it away from her mouth. “Let me at him, Vegeta! Let me make him pay for what he put me through!”

She already took a step in the direction Yamcha had gone, and he was forced to pull her back. An unusual amount of aggression, even for Bulma, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. She was pretty when she was furious; all sparking anger and brilliant flashes in her eyes. Her scent riled up, too, and it was all Vegeta could do not to squash his nose against her neck and breathe her in until she was no more.

Interestingly, he’d forgotten all about Yamcha.

“Ugh!” Bulma stomped her foot, drawing a few curious stares from around them. The urge to shield her from prying eyes rose in him faster than a tidal wave, and he stomped it down just as quickly. He sufficed the situation by putting his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him.

“Bulma,” Vegeta said. A thrill coursed through his chest when her eyes landed on him; darkened and dangerous and gorgeous. “Now is not the time for a fight. For one thing, these clothes aren’t appropriate for combat.”

“I don’t care!”

“And what about your father? If you ruin his company’s gala by murdering a guest?”

Her lips protruded in a pout he was deeply tempted to catch between his teeth and suck until she was swollen and bruised purple. Swallowing, he dragged his eyes up to hers to soak in the beauty of her rage.

“Fine,” Bulma snapped. “No murder. You’re no fun.”

“It’s more than he deserves. You’re better than him.”

Her face began to clear of aggravation. Now she simply looked annoyed, not murderous.

“When you kill someone,” Vegeta went on, “it should be someone worth more than you so as to prove your power.”

Bulma blinked several times. He couldn’t think of how what he’d said might be confusing or unclear, so he didn’t clarify. Finally she sighed. “Good to know you haven’t changed that much, Vegeta.”

“Of course I haven’t changed. Why would I?”

“Never mind.”

The evening had crested early. Guests remained to be greeted, food to be eaten, and an obligatory dance where everyone could see them that Vegeta thought would make a brilliant torture tactic in the Frieza Force were Frieza still alive. Every second was hell: the music, the steps, the stares, the whispers.

Worse than that was how much he liked having his hands all over Bulma and her arms wrapped around him. And how bearable her presence made this otherwise torture.

“Human dances are simplistic,” Vegeta grumbled. Cheeks pressed together, he heard her tinkling laugh right in the shell of his ear. “I’ve seen more backwards planets produce more intricate dances than this!”

“Oh, honey. This is a social dance, not a professional troupe. I promise there are better dancers out there than the Capsule Corp employees.”

“Tch.” He squeezed her hand tighter.

“Don’t tell me you’d rather learn a more complicated dance!” Bulma pulled enough to laugh in his face, which made his cheeks feel hot.

“No, of course not! I’m only saying it’s not a very impressive set of steps.”

“But it’s easy.”

Vegeta grunted in agreement. Swaying in circles didn’t require much experience or skill, just a willingness to keep moving and to hold a woman in his arms. His woman.

“Oh!” Her arm lifted from his shoulder. “My dad is coming to cut in.”

“Cut into what?”

“The dance, silly. He’ll take your place to dance with me. You can go sit or stand somewhere, I’ll find you after.”

And just like that, Vegeta lost his woman to her father. Glad to leave the dance, loathe to release her. It wasn’t until Bulma flat-out tugged her hand out of his with a reproachful look that he managed, stepping aside for Dr. Briefs.

“I won’t be long,” Dr. Briefs told him with a smile, already swinging his daughter into a more polished version of the dance. “You can have her back when I’m done.”

Saiyans had killed other Saiyans for less.

Vegeta stuck his hands in his pockets, expertly missing the other couples dancing nearby to leave the floor uncontested. His stomach rumbled to remind him that that pathetic single plate of food he’d consumed between introductions wasn’t enough to satisfy him. But instead of walking towards the buffet line, which was significantly shorter as the party dragged on, he found a blank space on the wall, outside the dazzling light of the chandelier. Leaning his back against the wall in a semblance of perfect relaxation, he crossed his arms and let his eyes drift closed.

Let the humans think him a miserable wretch. Rather that than talk to any of them.

He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in any places like this on any planet. In fact, when he really dug his mind in to think about it, he couldn’t recall any time that he’d felt true belonging. Even in the field, performing massacres at Frieza’s every order or spending nights with the other soldiers he’d been apart. Memories of his earliest childhood at his father’s palace proved spotty and only produced feelings that jolted between sour arrogance, suffocating loneliness, and the intense need to earn the king’s approval.

Vegeta had shuttered around the universe too much to call any place his home. Nor had he wanted to, when having a home proved to be such a target for a madman’s destruction. And now that Frieza was gone and Planet Vegeta was gone and Vegeta no longer part of an army: where did that leave him?

Here. He was here.

I have no ties to Earth, either, he thought to himself. The lie was acrid, burning beneath his skin as if his very blood howled in protest. So what if it was a lie? No one knew but himself. No one knew the roots growing from the cracks in his feet, from the arteries to his heart.

Perhaps because Vegeta was so in tune to her tenor of voice, perhaps because her laugh was just that loud - his head jerked up at the sound of Bulma laughing. The music had picked up to a faster pace, her dad twirling her expertly around.

This was her world. Her place. Her home. She belonged here in a way Vegeta would never, could never belong anywhere, because this had been her home since she was born. If he meant to honor her claim on him, to honor his claim on her - to take her away from this would be a cruelty beyond imagining. And for what? He had nothing and no place. No planet, no home, no people.

He’d only ever been a smudge, unwillingly allowed across the brightness of her life for an indeterminable and finite amount of time. Time that was running out, and he’d done the stupid thing and all but made her his mate in the Saiyan way.

For once, pride and blood tore him in different directions. One towards her, one away. Both with equal strength in his body, neither to be ignored.

When the song ended, Bulma disappeared from the dance floor. Vegeta barely had time to sense her direction before she appeared in front of him with flushed, vibrant cheeks and a smile brighter than any sun in any solar system.

“Told you I’d find you,” she said breathlessly. “Mom and Dad are going home, they said we can ride with them if we’re ready to leave.”

“I’m ready,” he said at once.

“Let’s go, then.” Bulma’s fingers wrapped through his, unraveling his uncompromising stance until he sulked after her bounding steps to the exit. Her exhilarating scent wrapped around him like a shroud, driving away his unhappy thoughts until his blood sang for her, and only her, and when she turned to beam at him, Vegeta grinned back.

Sharing a car with her parents had been a bad choice.

The backseat had two rows of seats facing each other, meant for socializing. Instead of sitting in the seat beside Bulma, Vegeta was pushed aside to make room for a massive bouquet of flowers someone had gifted Panchy at the party. His nose itched at the scent, cloying and too sweet. Meanwhile the others chatted about who they’d seen and who they hadn’t seen, laughing at dredged up memories and so-and-so or this-and-that.

Next time, they weren’t sharing a car.

There won’t be a next time, immediately followed that thought, and he stiffened in his seat. A fist resting on his knee, flaring conflict building in his chest until he was sure he’d choke aloud.

When the car finally stopped at the front entrance of Capsule Corp, Vegeta was slowest to start moving. By the time he climbed out of the car, squinting in the bright lights that bathed the front steps, Bulma had dashed around the car, holding her skirt in her hand.

“It’s a full moon,” she said. “Did you see?”

“No.” He started up the steps. Dr. Briefs and Panchy were already heading through the doors inside.

“Oh.”

Halfway to the top he realized she hadn’t followed. Turning, Vegeta scowled at her still by the car, hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me you expect to be carried,” he said. “I know you didn’t have a single glass of champagne.”

“You do get grumpy during full moons!”

“I do not!” He stomped back down the stairs. Bulma’s teal curls were falling from the elegant hairstyle she’d had earlier, strands gracing the curve of her neck and cheeks so beautifully that Vegeta got even more frustrated. Without a word he bent to hoist her over his shoulder, jogging back up the steps a second time.

“Why do you always do this?” she screeched. “I’m capable of walking, thank you very much!”

“Because I’m sick of you taking your sweet time! You’re wasting mine, too, you know!”

“I can waste whatever I want!” Bulma kicked out a few times, but Vegeta just jostled her until she stopped. Which was wise on her part, because otherwise he would have turned his head to bite her luscious backside.

The further away from the front entrance, the fewer lights were on. Briefly he considered stopping by the kitchens or the pantry but he dismissed the idea in favor of a better one. They could always eat after they worked out their frustrations with each other behind closed doors.

And that they did. It was her bedroom tonight, and after Vegeta tripped on two pairs of shoes and a tool belt he nearly howled, dropping Bulma onto her feet to start tugging at her dress with abandon.

“I hate these clothes,” he panted a few minutes later. Buttons popped off his shirt to litter the ground, but from Bulma’s aggression, not his. He’d torn the straps of her dress from her shoulders until it hung at her waist, exposing her breasts.

“You hate everything,” she said through gritted teeth. Having trouble taking off his suit coat when his head was buried in her chest. Vegeta didn’t bother correcting her, fondling a breast in one hand while he tried to kick off his shoes. Her scent was sharper and richer next to her skin. He hadn’t imbued any alcohol but he may as well have with how dizzy he felt. “Vegeta! Vegeta, just stop! It’ll be easier if we get undressed first.”

With a snarl he pulled away, wrenching open his trousers to add another button to the confetti on the floor. Bulma shimmied her dress down her hips. He stared, hopping on one foot to get out of his stupid trousers. Stupid clothes, stupid everything - he’d never wear this again. Only clothes that could be easily removed.

“Ooh!”

Her cry turned to a satisfied sort of moan after he grabbed her again, lifting her to straddle his hips while he made a clumsy path for the bed. Stepping on buttons and whatever else Bulma left lying around, all poking his feet. He didn’t care. He needed her like a dying man needed water; he needed to taste her and be inside her. Lips met in sloppy haste, Vegeta biting after her when she pulled away for breath, her fingers tight on his shoulders and her eyes opening and closing fast.

“Why does it feel like this?” Bulma whispered. Cradled by the bed and pinned down by him, she still managed to rock against him, her neck craning. “Why is it different tonight?”

“Maybe it’s the full moon.” Vegeta hadn’t thought himself capable of joking at a moment like this, but maybe it wasn’t a joke after all. A moment’s thought and he added, “It’s the way you smell. It’s making me…maybe it’s making you feel it, too.”

“Then it’s going to be a good night.” A dazzling, kiss-swollen smile, and he felt her hand push his head down towards the junction between her legs. “I have a feeling I won't need to stop you tonight. Maybe I have Saiyan stamina now.”

The words falling from his lips in response to hers weren’t in her language, but she didn’t comment on it. Vegeta’s teeth sank into her thigh, his hand tucked behind her knee to lift her leg so his mouth could reach more skin. He could taste nothing else for the remainder of his existence and it wouldn’t be enough. What was it that had turned her from enjoyable to intoxicating? Where did an addict slip over the line into insanity where he couldn’t control his muscles, couldn’t control his mind?

Couldn’t control his blood, couldn’t control his pride.

Here. He was here.

“Bulma,” he murmured. Kissed the tendons that made her body, licked the skin, kneaded the muscles. She twitched and quivered with every touch, her head lolling on the pillows. Impatient for him to continue, no doubt. If she could hear him, she didn’t say so. Perhaps she was as senseless as him. Despite not having spoken the Saiyan language for years, it was easier to slip into phrases he thought he’d never say, feelings he’d never thought he’d feel, when he knew Bulma couldn’t understand. Couldn’t ask, couldn’t confront. It was just for him. Just for him and no one else.

“Bulma,” he said again, his tongue swirling around her sex and she keened into the night, legs shaking around his head. “Bulma, you are my queen.”

#bulma x vegeta #vegebul #dbz fanfic #dragon ball

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