#although i probably am meant to be shorter than that and i'm not SURE about chest hair? kind of suspect i'd learn to dig it if i had it tho
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nat 20, crit fail, prep and tpk!
nat 20: What's the most memorable RP scene you've been a part of?
I know this is technically a question for me as a player but as a DM, there was an exchange with one of my players (in blue) as this little kid NPC (in red) after they'd saved him from a pretty horrible massacre that just went:
"Have you seen people die?"
"Yeah."
"Did you like them too?"
"Yeah. But there's nothing I could do for them. And they're happier where they are now."
"I wish you could be happy too."
"Yeah."
Which just got me real in my feelings about Mr. Mumford and made me real proud of his player :)
crit fail: Have you ever had a character death? What happened?
I personally have not! I think that's in part because the longest campaigns I've been in as a player were only over about 7 or eight months, so I haven't had a ton of opportunity to be thrust into mortal peril. Although I guess you never know lol, especially at lower levels.
prep: How much prep work do you do? How far out do you prep?
I would say it varies session to session, which is probably normal. I've played around with completely homebrewing some shorter sessions, but there honestly isn't a place for that in my work life balance, so I've turned to running published material (namely Curse of Strahd). That takes a lot of the burden of prep off, since I more rarely am designing things from scratch-- although I do my fair share of modification, and there still is plenty of stuff that I have to figure out myself! For most games I will make sure I have the sections that I will need from the book marked out and available, and especially if looks like it's gonna be a sort of open-ended RP game, I'll write out certain guidelines for myself into my campaign notebook so it's easier for me to keep track of things (I also do this for combat, in that I'll usually write a few lines about major figures' goals, if they're relevant, and maybe their first move or two). I try not to prep much beyond what I think will fit in a session (because I frankly don't have time), but sometimes I overestimate, and will end up with notes that last me three sessions. But beyond sort of vague notions of bigger picture building blocks that are moving in the background, I try to only prep stuff I think will be immediately pertinent. And I do trust my improv skills enough where a lot of that will be vague sketching! For example, in CoS there's a festival that's upcoming in one of the major cities, but the book has truly no information about what the festival itself entails beyond sort of a morbid procession, so I went into that game with an opening scene, a vague thought about ring toss, and a vague thought about local card sharks, and just kind of played it by ear from there. And it was one of our most fun games! I do prep a LOT for combat though-- we play on roll20 so I'm cobbling together maps (which usually will take an hour or so depending) and will often times write out entire stat blocks so I don't have to be looking for them. I do use the dnd beyond encounter tracker some of the time, but in big, complicated encounters, I find that can actually make my life extra confusing, so I do a lot of handwriting shit out on paper.
tpk: Have you ever had a game go completely off the rails? TPK? How did you adjust?
I did in fact facilitate a TPK in my current campaign which was !!!! yeah I would say off the rails is putting it mildly! The entire party was slaughtered by dire wolves, which was a random encounter on the way to a completely different objective so. very unexpected. It was one of those games that truly makes you feel insane, and it was almost entirely down to rolls-- I was rolling very well for these wolves (I think I crit 3 or 4 times?) and they were rolling extremely poorly. It was honestly easier for me that everyone went out than just a few people, because it meant that I could make on the fly decisions for the group and no one had to sit out the rest of the session. So, once the last person went down I gave everyone a kind of solo limbo vignette where we zeroed in on some character/backstory stuff for each of them, just to kind of settle everyone (which was really fun to do, especially since there's a lot they don't know about each other's histories, some more than others), and took a five minute recess to figure out what to do next-- I was lucky that unbeknownst to the party, they were on their way to knock on the door of a hag coven, who had their own reasons to want them alive, so I ended up having them all wake up as their captives. Congrats, you made it to where you were going! Sorry, you're still fucked! And THAT ended up being one of the most fun, intense encounters we've run. And I certainly am weaving some threads in the background about how exactly they survived and what the long-term consequences of that are.
#thank u truths! the whole list of questions is great#there are. definitely more off the rails examples i could have given#but u know the literal TPK was a big one#ask#impossibletruths#placeholder campaign tag#it speaks
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Love and Gods
Can also be read on Ko-Fi. This probably shouldn't count as a drabble anymore but I'm going to argue it is anyway lol.
--
The Blue Meeting room is smaller than most in the castle. It’s an old, old room. The kind that hasn’t been used since the castle was built out into the near city size it is now. The old temple is nearby, but that’s about it. The rest of the castle functions no where near the Blue Meeting room.
Which is probably why Quincy has made a habit of using it since his family was murdered. There is no imaginary whiff of smoke so far from the main Meeting Hall, no blackened stone. The recently crowned King cannot avoid the central parts of the castle, no matter his memories. Carter can’t blame Quincy for scheduling what he can in this distant hall.
“Thank you for joining me, I know it’s quite the walk.” Quincy says once the table has been set with a grand breakfast spread and tea.
“It’s not a bother.” Carter assures. “I spend most of my time in the temple anyway.”
“Priest Rehan says you’ve changed the temple quite a bit.” The King says with a bit of a smile, pouring them both a cup of tea.
“I’ve been restoring it.” Carter huffs but doesn’t roll his eyes. He can’t. It’d be misread.
“Well, no one is more qualified for such a task.” Quincy chuckles. They talk about nothing as they eat and it’s nice. And yet Carter cannot help the slight tension in his shoulder as he wants for Quincy to acknowledge it. The thing he has been avoiding for weeks now. The thing that Carter knows will ruin this little bubble they’ve created in the very back of the castle.
Today, it seems, is the day Quincy finally does it. Breakfast is over, the tea is cold, and while Carter has time to spare, the King does not. They stand to say their farewells and Quincy pauses.
Carter refuses to sigh, even as he desperately wants to.
“This is incredibly improper of me, and I hope you will the take no offence.” Quincy begins, taking Carter’s hands gently. The shorter man lets him, although he doesn’t look up to meet the King’s gaze. “I’ve grown quite fond of the time we spend together. No one else brings my mind peace. Outside out meetings it is a constant battle to stay focused on the present and not relive that day. But with you it is easy. With you, thoughts of flames bring warm not fear.” It is a sweet confession, one that Carter does not deserve. Not when it was his flames that killed Quincy’s family. “I would… I know it is improper but I…” Quincy leans closer, giving up on finding words to say what he means. It would be so easy for Carter to accept this. In fact, Carter’s sure it be rather nice to send his days here lounging in the King’s affections.
And yet, it would be so, so cruel.
He shifts his head away before Quincy’s lips can connect to his check.
“You should not fall in love with a god.” Carter warns, his tone carefully void of emotion. That doesn’t keep Quincy’s mood from dropping. The king drops his hands and takes a step back, all familiarity forgotten between them.
“Of course.” He says. “My deepest apologies Your Holiness, I should never have acted so bold. I meant not offence.”
“And I felt none.” Carter assures, already exhausted. “I’m flattered, really, and if I were mortal I would be more then willing to see where this went.”
“Then…” Quincy starts but doesn’t finish. Even a King cannot question a god and Carter sighs. This, he doesn��t say, is part of the problem.
“To watch an immortal remain as you age is no simple pain, and that is the best case.” Carter himself hadn’t been so lucky. Falling in love with a god is what got him into this mess. Stuck replacing a man that hadn’t warned him before he vanished.
“Would the pain it not be worth the joy?” Quincy asks. No, but people can rarely be convinced of that.
“Even if it was, you’re in love with the person you see but I am not a person Quincy.” Carter attempts something different.
“Of course you’re a person.” Quincy argues. “I can see you right now. I can-” He reaches out but stops sort of touching Carter. Such a thing is too improper.
“You can see what used to be a person.” Carter states. Quincy doesn’t look convinced. Why would he? Carter didn’t, when he was mortal. It is too foreign a concept. Carter does not pace. He cannot. It would be seen as anger, and the anger of a god is not a thing that can be expressed lightly. He does run a hand through his hair, desperately looking for a way to convince Quincy to give up this crush before things come to ruin.
“A good king looks at his kingdom and sees it’s people. A good god does not.” He tries to explain, lips pressing tight together for a moment. “My job is to keep the world turning, and I cannot do that and see individuals.”
“But you do.” Quincy says, frowning slightly. “Else people would not have your favour. Else you wouldn’t have saved me.”
“You are the first person I’ve actively given favour to in centuries, if not longer. Usually favour comes with fate or luck or study. And I’d just as quickly give it to your sister or father to save them instead.” Carter argues then, as Quincy takes breath to say something, he continues, “and not for the sake of saving them. A ruler must set on the Ember Throne to channel my power, as a ruler must set on all the temple thrones. For reasons you don’t have the life span to understand because you are mortal and I am not.” Carter takes a deep breath, aware his voice has risen and he can’t have that. If someone thinks the God of Fire is angry at his own King, there won’t be a Kingdom left to have a throne.
He hates this. Carter’s always hated this. It’s exhausting to watch his every reaction, to so thoroughly control his emotions. This is why he gave up his physical form in the first damn place.
“If it were that simply, you would have let the man who killed my family be King.” Quincy claims with a quiet sort of conviction and Carter fears he cannot fix this. Cannot rid Quincy of this crush he should not have. “It was his right, after all. He bested the House of Flame with your flames. The throne was his.”
“That’s a rule mortal made, not me.” A stupid rule that works because – technically – anyone with a connection to his flames can sit upon the Ember Throne. “And it doesn’t mean much. I did not want a cruel person on my throne, that’s all.”
Except that’s not all. It’s true, of course, but there is more. There is a god that likes cruelty, a god that Carter and his peers have been chipping away at piece by piece. Carter’s certain a piece will end up in that man, so shunned by the God of Fire that he dedicated his life (his cruelty) to. And when it does, Carter will destroy the man to hurt the god. And before he does, the man will kill more people.
Because that is what it is to be a god. Thinking ten steps ahead, sacrificing people that have no say in the matter, watching every reaction he has to avoid even further death. And mortals cannot love that, not truly. They can love an aspect of him, they can love what they see, and they will willingly ignore the rest.
“I disagree.” Quincy claims. “I think you are kinder than you think, that you are more a person than you think.”
Carter just sighs and gives up arguing.
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i don't disagree with my original s2 thoughts entirely. although i've expanded on/slightly changed a few of them, on the season and the show as a whole and certain characters in the show as my blog and my fics stand record. well, you know, it's very human to be capable of growth and change so i think i'm doing okay. but i'd like to add, in hindsight and after a literal whole year to think on the finale.
This goes without saying, but I will never forgive HBO Max for trying so hard to destroy this show. Yeah, they got their way in the end (for now anyway), but they clearly had it out for OFMD. The massive budget cut, the filming constraints, shorter episodes, smaller season, so much executive meddling. They were so obviously hoping the second season would be terrible, the fanbase would drop off, and the numbers would plunge. But when that didn't happen, they just cancelled it anyway. It's fucking awful.
the finale is full of moments i love and i definitely would have loved it even more if it had been forty minutes and able to just breathe. we'll probably never see the original forty minute cut of the finale, but the bones were there. the Big Moments we were supposed to take into season three. of course it feels incomplete from a character perspective, because it's the second act of a three act story. dislike the finale if the must, but this wasn't meant to be the end of ed and stede's story.
they haven't finished growing yet, so of course certain aspects of their character arcs feel incomplete. season 2 is meant to be the bones, the foundation ed and stede will build the rest of their relationship on. from my perspective anyway. they learned how to communicate with each other like adults, they had some good conversations about what they want out of their relationship, they've learned they can't just run away from the friction in their relationship (they actually need to work it out), it was reinforced tenfold how respectful stede is of ed's autonomy and boundaries, they both experienced some major growth that should help them moving forward.
some additional things about season 2 i loved, forgot to mention in the original post and then never updated it:
The soundtrack!! Fucking hell, the soundtrack!! I don't pay a lot of attention to music in most shows when I first watch the episode/episodes, but I was bawling my eyes out when Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work" came on in Episode 3 while Ed's in the Gravy Basket. the gorgeous visuals plus the music???? i was sobbing.
Our Flag Means Death Season 2 they could never make me hate you
I've made about forty posts about why i love episode 6 so much so i'll spare all of you (this time anyway), but learning this episode had the most (?? pretty sure i read that somewhere, feel free to correct me) executive meddling out of any other episode in the show makes it even funnier and so much fucking better that it's one of my favorite episodes not just of season 2 but of the whole show.
Am i upset we never got fully one hundred percent canon archie/jim/oluwande/zheng polycule, as was planned? yeah. am i happy we still got some good scenes with jim/archie/oluwande?? fuck yeah!!
Loved Izzy's death, it was such an important and meaningful bullet point for Ed's character arc. Ed choosing life, Ed choosing to put piracy behind him, Izzy serving a similar place in the narrative as The Badmintons did for Stede in S1 (not identical, but in the same general vein)
I think that's about it for stuff I forgot to mention in my original end of s2 post?? idk. i loved season 2, even the finale. it had a different vibe than season 1, but not to the extent it felt like a whole different show. it's a delightful watch.
Okay, my head's no longer in pieces (entirely), so here's my full thoughts on Season 2.
What I Liked:
Episode 6. Just...Episode 6. Favorite episode this season, Episode 4 coming in at close second.
Kisses!! So many kisses!! Five Gentlebeard kisses, how fucking lucky are we???
The first three episodes were an absolute banger start to the season, a perfect ensemble of comedy and drama. Completely banished my fears of Season 2 being lackluster.
Ed's looks!! So many good ones this season. The slutty ponytail!!!
Zheng!! Loved Zheng so much, I hope she's in Season 3.
We got some really good soft Gentlebeard moments this season, I'm pleased.
Archie!! Her dynamic and interactions with Jim were great.
Really, I loved all the characters introduced in Season 2. Maybe a little overcrowding, but all the new guys were a delight.
The costuming in Season 2 was fucking amazing, they did so great despite the smaller budget.
I know it's probably going to crash and burn if we get Season 3 and it wasn't handled super well, but...I fucking love Innkeepers Stede and Ed. I love the idea of Ed being at peace, away from the brutal violence of piracy he's been trying to escape.
Izzy's speech. Just...yeah.
Jim in drag!! Izzy in drag!! Wee John in drag!!
Chaotic sapphics
Okay, so what didn't I like?
We needed longer episodes and more episodes. 10 episodes, maybe forty minutes each. That would have fixed so many of the pacing issues. Blame HBO Max for this.
I've already mentioned Stede's wardrobe in another post. Did he have some banger looks? Fuck yeah. But Season 1 Stede with his intricate little fop fits was...an experience. Again, blame HBO Max. Capitalism. Budget cuts.
I feel like we never truly dealt with Stede and Ed's trauma?? Not really?? I guess that leaves us a lot of room in Season 3 for a genuine wrap-up.
I love OFMD to pieces, HBO Max fucked us all over and let's never forget it. But we got something deliciously queer despite all of that. Us queers are used to thriving in inhospitable environments, right? We make do.
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went looking for plain embroiderable tees and hit a very scoopnecked one at which point i got sidetracked by my ongoing resentment at having to choose between baring collarbone and binding, like, @ my body what is UP with yr refusal to support the Androgynously Nubile Youth message i yearn to broadcast, rude tbh!!!
#i mean i suppose if i were ganglier and more breastless it might feel less urgent to display what little bone structure i do have#but idk. this is a very specific thing that i have repeatedly gotten specifically mad about & will probably continue to#sorry to give you the‚ like‚ bullet point version of this post‚ i started to do a more elaborate writeup and lost patience#embodiment (is violence)#what is gender we just don’t know#a lot of the time it seems to be 'getting mad abt being unable to wear boy clothes the way i want'#it's just all so frustrating bc like. objectively there is nothing wrong with 'strong sleek sturdy pointy-titted pear-shaped' as bodies go!#i have even been known to like those qualities as sported by other people!#but they continue to be a source of impotent frustration bc they feel like the reason i can't achieve a vibe that feels Correct#even though i don't actually know what Correct would be??#not not j**y b*t*y tbh#although i probably am meant to be shorter than that and i'm not SURE about chest hair? kind of suspect i'd learn to dig it if i had it tho#but like. soft big-eyed boy feels maybe right. for gender-ambiguous values of boy. idk idk idk.#ughhhhhh. sry 2 tag spiral. sure wish i could work out whether i'd miss this body if it were different!!#definitely possible!! like honestly in my more morose moments i think 'maybe the actual gender was the dysphoria we learned along the way'#or—to put that less meme-ily—that what i actually want is to have my cake and eat it too‚ or rather‚ to sometimes have it & sometimes eat it#which is not‚ alas‚ how bodies actually work#one lad's nb experience: longing for a version of embodiment that doesn't & can't exist#just really want never to get gendered except in specific ways by specific people i trust and love#and sometimes to be strong-muscled hammer swinger & sometimes to be Lanky Youth & maybe sometimes even‚ once in a great while‚ to be softer#by which i mean something in a vaguely girl-direction but also not exactly. i don't know. the body i have but with meaning i choose.#lots of impossibilities.#:/.#(sure would love to have progressed beyond this indecisive unhappiness to some Definite End Goal after years of feeling this way!!)
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ITALY (STONY)
AU where Steve and Tony fall in love one summer in Italy, inspired by this beautiful fan art made by @vindemiatrix-moonpies
Tony had been left at the altar. The wedding was organised down to the very last detail, everything already paid for by Tony. Everything was perfect, everyone was there. Everyone except the bride. Mary didn't show up. Nor called, or texted. She just disappeared. Tony found out later that night that she had ran away and eloped with her lover. She could have had a perfect life with no one less than the Tony Stark, but in the end she had chosen love. 'Plenty of fish in the sea' Tony had told himself, because it was true, every single lady, and some single lads, was willing to marry Tony. Who wasn't? Mary apparently. The problem was that Tony loved Mary. He really wanted to marry her, she was not just another strategic economic move. He really thought she was the love of his life. But he wasn't hers. This was not going to stop Tony from enjoying his 3-month-long honeymoon in the sweet Italy. Tony laid on his bed the tuxedo, hoping that it wouldn't be there once he came back, he probably had to leave a note to Pepper or Happy. He definitely didn't want to see that suit ever again. He jumped into the first sweatsuit he found in his closet and, without even bothering to take his suitcase, drove to the airport.
Steve was 18 when he decided that America was not his home. As soon as he was out of High School, he took the first plane for Barcelona and went backpacking through Europe. He had always known that, eventually, he had to come back, but then he found the perfect little fishermen's town in the south of Italy, a place that he could finally call home. It was true, what the stereotypes were all about. Italian were indeed nice and friendly and welcoming and when Steve was offered to work for the son of the nice old lady who was kind enough to give him a roof over his head when he got lost in a storm, he felt like he had found his place in the world. Steve hated bad weather, after all he didn't know any fisherman that didn't hate bad weather. But that storm, that storm was a miracle, it might have put him on the wrong road, but it sure showed him the right path. Little did Steve know that he would have to thank bad weather once again.
It took Tony three days to realize that staying in his luxurious hotel room,drinking scotch and snuggling with self loathing wasn't going to take him anywhere. Eventually, he had to get back on his feet. "Stark men are made of iron" his father would say. One morning, he set the alarm way earlier than his usual. It was a nice day outside, although he could feel in his bones that a storm was arriving. The Tony of just one day before would have taken that as a sign to stay in bed, but not the new Tony. He only had 3 months to spend in what in his opinion was the most beautiful country in the world. He had his fancy breakfast, got into a nice linen shirt and drove out of the parking lot of the hotel with the beautiful red Ferrari he had rented for Maria. He drove to a nice little private beach, bought a straw hat because why not, and started walking on the shore, in search of a boat to rent. Tony eventually found one that he could rent and take out without any particular licence. Tony had never sailed a boat before, but he did drive some expensive cars, so he figured it wouldn't be that different, nor much more difficult. Also, he was a fast learner. Indeed, after listening to the renter explain how the boat worked, it wasn't that big of a deal for Tony. At least not until the big storm arrived. It started with the sky turning darker and the wind blowing harder. At that point, the waves were way too high and violent for Tony to come back. If he had had any experience sailing, he probably wouldn't have had any problem going back to the shore. But he didn't know how to face an angry sea and he panicked, which is something that every fisherman would tell you not to do.
The storm was finally over and Steve was walking on the shore, looking for possible damage caused by the storm. It was nothing out of the ordinary, storms happened in summer and that one wasn't any different. No boats were damaged, but he liked walking on the beach after the rain, the sand was humid and fresh and there was a nice breeze. He was collecting nice little seashells for his collection, he already had a handful, but he let them go as soon as he saw something laying on the sand, something that should not have been there. That something was Tony's unconscious body, dragged here by the waves. Steve needled by Tony's side trying to wake him up. He checked his vitals and looked for injuries that luckily were not present. He picked him up in bridal style and took him to his house. From there, he would decide whether he needed to go to the hospital or not.
Tony woke up in Steve's bed. He was feeling exhausted. There was a little ray of sunlight coming in from the window that was hitting him right on his face. Tony rolled over, trying to hide from the light, but fell on the floor with a loud thud. As he loudly growled, more from the frustration than for the pain, Steve ran in the room, as if he was standing right out of the door, which he was, kind of. "Hey, hey, do you hear me?" Steve asked in Italian. Tony was not sure if he understood him, but he could hear a thick American accent in his voice. Truth was, that, no matter how long Steve had been living in Italy, he could not produce an authentic Italian accent, although he knew the language like his own. "Water" Tony mumbled, closing his eyes. Steve ran away and came back with a glass of water. "Here" Tony took the glass with both hands, eagerly drinking it. "Do you know where you are?" Tony shook his head. "Do you know who you are?" Tony nodded "Anthony...Tony" Steve held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you Tony. I'm Steve" Tony shook his hand. "How are you feeling?" Tony nodded. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" "N-no I'm fine" Tony replied nodding. "Ok, let's get you something to eat, ok?" Steve got up, holding his hand out for Tony, waiting for him to take it. Tony looked around while walking to the kitchen. Steve's house was extremely small, it was all on one floor and it consisted of the bedroom, a small kitchen and what Tony could only assume was the bathroom. Tony sat at the rather small table while Steve fixed him a plate of pasta salad and sat next to him. Once he finished eating, Tony got up and reached for the door. "I-I have to go" But before Steve could reply, Tony collapsed on the floor. "It's late and dark, I think it's best if you spend the night here"
Despite wanting to leave the very first second he was conscious again, he soon realised that the quiet little fishermen's town and Steve's company were all he needed. Steve would go to work in the morning, before sunrise and would be back just in time to have breakfast with Tony and they would spend the rest of the day together. It was nice for Tony not to think about Mary for a while. But the dream had to come to an end, eventually. Tony had obligations and a multi billion dollar company to run waiting for him in New York. It was the beginning of September, the days were shorter and the nights were chiller. But it also meant that the town was quieter. Almost every last remaining tourist was leaving. In town there were only the fishermen and their families. Even they were starting to go back to their winter houses because the kids were going to start school in a few days. Soon Steve would be among the last remaining people in the town, with some old ladies. To them, Steve was a saviour, taking care of their groceries and their errands. That could only mean that it was the end of summer and, despite being the saddest time of the year for the residents, it also meant that the happiest days of the summer vacation were coming up. Every single free moment there was, was used to organise a more memorable feast than the year before. And Tony helped. Well, he mostly founded the feast, anonymously. He hadn't told Steve, nor anybody else, who he really was, he figured that, if no one recognised him, he would be nice to live like any other normal person for once. What he didn't take into consideration was the possibility that he could become attached to a certain muscular blond man.
The last night of the feast was also Tony's last night in Italy. He had already begged Pepper for more time, but she couldn't give him any more. There was live music and fresh seafood for everyone. Everyone was smiling, singing and dancing, celebrating the great summer they had. Tony was sitting at a table, a kid had just come to say goodbye. He was running out of time, and that little time he had, he wanted to spend it with Steve. "Steve" "Heeey Tony" He sounded slightly drunk. "I need to talk to you" Steve nodded and took his hand, walking him to the brickwork in front of the sea. "So, tell me" Steve was sitting facing the sea while Tony was facing the other way. "I'm leaving tomorrow" "I know" "I'm...not sure you know who I am" Steve looked at Tony. "You're Tony" "I am Tony Stark" "As in..." "Yes, as in Stark Industries" Steve sighed and looked back at the sea. "Ok" "Just ok?" Steve shook his shoulders. "Yeah, I don't care. It just explains how you could pay for everything" Tony giggled. "I don't want you to go, Tony" "Yeah, I don't want to go neither" Tony put his hand on Steve's. "Steve?" Steve hummed and slightly turned his head towards Tony. "Ithinkimfallingforyou" Steve giggled. "What?" Tony inhaled deeply. "I think I'm falling for you. Deep, like really deep" Steve smiled and caressed his hand. "I fell for you a long time ago, Tony" Steve turned to Tony, sitting astride the brick wall. He put a hand on Tony's cheek. "Can I kiss you?" Tony nodded, biting his lip. Steve put their lips together, pushing Tony back, making him lay on the wall and standing over him, while Tony threw his hands around Steve's neck. Tony mumbled. "What are we going to do?" Steve rolled his eyes "I don't know. We'll think about that tomorrow, now shut up and kiss me" Tony smiled, biting his lip again. Steve smiled and kissed Tony, trying to gain access to his mouth, that Tony kept denying. Steve bit Tony's lip and Tony gasped and Steve, catching the opportunity, slid his tongue into Tony's mouth, feeling Tony's body relax under his touch. Everything was going to be fine, the end of the summer meant the beginning of a life together.
#stony#steve rogers#stevetony#tonysteve#tony stark#italy#steve x tony#tony x steve#stevextony#tonyxsteve#fanart#stony fanart
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Yeah, that long vers still have a lot of holes that i purposely left it like that because if i really go into detail, it will be longer. Just to make it shorter and say the important bits. And i don't really want to bother anyone with a longer ask than the one that i sent, i mean it will be really long.
So about the reincarnated thing. Have you seen how fudge up some of their mentals are? (Looking at Mikey, Kazutora, and others) Not to mention, they don't seem to have a parental figure or someone to depend on to help them out. I made the fem!Reader to be reincarnated because she knows how to have a healthy mental state and work through some minor (maybe also major, but not needed-a-therapist major-problem) problem in life, in other words being more mature, healthy, and depenable (also having the braincells to keep them out of jail or juvie). Not to mention, how to have a more normal and healthy environment for growing child.
And about the previous good life, she already had and experienced that good healthy normal life with loving parents, so when she get thrown to the new life where her brother is a delinquent, (and she kinda got dragged or hanging out with delinquents and being friends with them) she have that thought like 'this is not normal' 'this is not what a child should do'. Have you seen Baji? How many kids do you know that burn cars when they are hungry? (I also saw one of the comments in tiktok how they would discipline their kids with belt or sending them to some facility if they do that along with always fighting in gang)
I do not meant that the Fem!Reader is arrogant for having that higher ground. But as someone who is mentally older, not physically, it makes her want to help the others. (I mean, if you see a lost child, you would want to help them right? It's the right thing to do. That is my comparison.)
I added the prophetic dream power because Takemichi have a time jump power, it's not that far fetched for her to have that power. There is no big reason or some plot twist from her having it (it kinda influence from me reading lots of reincarnated manhwa. I don't want her to be OP but i want her to have some leverage, call it compensation/a mistake from the universe for reincarnating her there. Giving her physical powers that rivals Mikey is too OP for me, do you really think a normal girl who never in a fight in her two lifes would suddenly know how to fight? She could kill someone with that kind of OP power. Also i am bored from the physically badass Reader, seem too far-fetched for me. I can fight, but not THAT good, my go to would be kicking them on the family jewels and run for my life, now THIS is believable. Or smacking them with bricks/dictionary which is hard covered)
With the Fem!Reader being reincarnated from when she died as a teenager, this mean she kinda get a little fudge up from that dying experience and got robbed from her loving family. I personally think, when she was little in her second life, she is more quiet and withdrawn from her Baji family, but then she accepted it, she got a new life, a new family who loves her, a second chance at living, she make peace that the old her died and now she will be living as a Baji in Japan. Although she probably mature more from that dying experience. About how life should be treasured and stuff.
But precisely because she died as a TEENAGER, that she can still have fun and not thinking of the adults world yet. Yes, she already picked her carreer choice and working to achieve said carreer (by doing excellent in school, not making a problem for the neighbourhood or family, and just be a good kid in general. Making Mama Baji proud of her.) but now she is a kid or a teenager, not that many responsibilities yet (except trying to making sure that her brother and friends grow up to be a good and functioning adult). She can still play, goofing off, and have fun.
So she is a mix of personality, what i'm trying to say. And yes, i try my best to make her likable. And the thing you said about her personality in your prior post is also true. She is definitely the mother of the group, but also simultaneously, the younger sister of the group. Just because someone is mature, doesn't mean that they can not get pissed off (reference to the nagging when she got stabbed). And can be selfish too (reluctant/not sharing her fav snacks) Yeah, just because you are mentally younger than Fem!Reader does not mean she will let go of all your wrongdoings (i am looking at Mikey who seems like will steal her snacks when they are younger... scratch that, he will also do it in their teenage years. She absolutely will admonish Baji for the car-burning incident. And will clearly tell Kazutora off if he ever cross a line)
Hope this will give some clarity. And i whole heartedly agree with you prior post. And thanks for the kind words.
- Belt Anon
HAHA! I love it sm~ that totally clears up a lot! Mc has her own personality that makes her standout, its really cute I must say lol 😆
I really see the thought and effort you put in making this~ I agree with a lot of what you said as well~
Though that does mean that she is mentally an adult then? I get the vibe that she'd be the therapist friend as well, or like that one friend who'd understand everybody's feelings~
Yup all in all your idea is very promising~ I like it very much! Thank you for sharing this with me♡♡
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Be Nice To Me 4
Part 3
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Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader, Denki Kaminari x fem!Reader
Warnings: Eventual mature content, angst, hurt/comfort, love triangle, the reader is lowkey toxic, everything will be adressed in every episode (:
Chapter warning: Just a single curse word.
Chapter: 4/? I'm sorry, this is going to be long :c but I just loooove writing it
Synopsis: You're in love with your best friend Bakugou, and you're cofessing to him but things get a lot more complicated when Denki starts to treat you different *wink wink*
Word count: 1.6k
Author's note: This is a little bit shorter, but it's pure fluff, and the next one is going to be so long they will compensate eachother, hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 4 Bloom- The Paper Kites
I was floating in cloud nine, everything I have ever dreamt of suddenly became true, there he was, the boy of my dreams liking me back, what else could’ve I asked for? Maybe a little more time together before he’s gone.
The doubts in my heart were getting more difficult to ignore with every passing minute, we came back to the dorms like two hours ago but I was incapable of going to bed, let alone trying to sleep, there was so much to think about, were we a couple? I’ve never had a boyfriend, I don’t know how these things are supposed to work, we like each other, that’s all that it takes right? A long-distance relationship? I’ve heard that those never work, or should we wait for him to come back to make it official? Aren’t we already official? We’ve kissed, like a lot, there was even some tongue; ugh those thoughts made me feel so embarrassed.
The light of my home screen lightly illuminated the room, and with my blushed cheeks I went to check who was messaging me, it was Kaminari, I opened the text that reads “R u awake? I had a nightmare and I really could use a hug from my bestie rn” followed by five crying emojis; “See you in the place” said my reply, the place was this empty service room in the rooftop of the dorms, nobody ever used it for anything so it is completely empty, we made a copy of the key one day that we had to clean the entire dorms because a certain yellow-haired guy decide to play “potions” in chemistry class, and since then it’s been our hiding place, it had everything that we needed, a lot of junk food, fairy lights, a portable speaker, blankets and an Opossum holding a cigarette poster in one wall; whenever one of us needed a break from the outside world we came here, this is our safe space.
I opened the door to the place and saw Denki standing there, he looked so tiny and vulnerable, I hugged him instantly, the dim fairy lights in the opossum wall made his facial features even prettier, it was obvious he had been crying, I didn’t asked any question and he didn’t said anything, we just hugged for what it seemed like hours, with a heavy sight he pulled apart and give me smile
-Thanks Y/N I really needed that- Said Denki with his hand in my cheek and his eyes fixed in some point between us
-They’re back, aren’t they? - I asked with concern
He nodded and lied in one of our blankets in the floor, I did the same, we both were looking at the glow in the dark stars glued to the celling not saying a single word, he held my hand and started to cry
-Why do they keep coming back? I don’t wanna be afraid anymore- I knew exactly what he meant, he had a recurrent nightmare, a big fight against villains, every one of us dying in awful ways, he is always the last one to die, and before that there is always someone telling him that he is the weakest of us, that this was all his fault for not being enough.
-Your mind is playing tricks on you, you are not weak, I know I’ve told you that a gazillion times, but I’m willing to do it a million more, all the times you need it, I’m here, we are all safe and sound, you have nothing to worry about- Anytime the nightmares come back I make sure Denki knows he’s just as strong as any of our other classmates, that he’s smart and capable of being a great hero.
-I want to be able to protect you, I don’t want you to die- Said Denki facing me and locking his eyes with my own.
-I promise you, I’m not going to die in the hands of a villain, I’m going to die being the coolest grandma in the neighbourhood, doing a sick backflip and daring Satan himself to come for my soul- I said to make Denki laugh, and apparently it worked
-You’re my best friend Y/N, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here, please never stop being like that-
-Being how? -
-I don’t know, funny, smart, a real pain in the ass to the villains and the teachers, a stubborn whiney stuff-
-Are you sure you aren’t describing yourself? –
-Nah, I didn’t said the most handsome man who ever walked the earth, but you’re not bad looking-
We both laughed, I really enjoyed being around Denki, his presence always felt comforting, like coming back home after a long trip, or eating your favourite homemade dish after a rough day, like a cool late summer breeze, he makes my heart warm and my troubles go away, I never feel more like myself than when I’m around him. That’s what friendship feels like, right?
-Could you do me one last favour Y/N? – Denkis voice took me out of my own mind -I don’t want to go back to my room and have another nightmare, I don’t wanna make you unconformable or anything, but could I sleep with you? -
It definitely took me by surprise, we had a lot of sleepovers over the years, but never just the two of us
-I understand if you say no, but I promise I just want to sleep, and having you around makes me feel safe-
-I have an idea, let’s have a sleepover here in the place, I’ll put one of those white noise videos that last hours, so you don’t have to think about anything-
-I’ll set the alarm to get up early and go to our dorms before anyone sees us, thank you so much Y/N, I’ll make it up to you, I promise-
-You don’t have to; I know you’ll do the same for me-
-You’re an angel but with no wings-
-So, like a person? –
-Shut up Aubrey Plaza-
We were both lying in the blankets on the floor, our heads at the same level (look at the reference above) and I was slowly falling asleep, all I could hear was the white noise and Denkis soft breathing, I closed my eyes and just before I completely lost my consciousness and succumb to the tiredness of my body I heard it, Denkis soft voice, “I love you Y/N”. I turned my head to look at him with my heart racing miles, but he was deeply asleep. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing, it probably was my tired mind, I took one last look to the boy next to me, sleeping so peacefully and with a little smile in his lips feeling the same familiar warmth in my soul, is this really what friendship feels like?
The alarm went off exactly at 5 am, I woke up and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t in my dorm room, then I remembered Denkis nightmare, our sleepover, and that thing I thought I heard. I had to wake Denki up so we could go to our respective rooms without Aizawa founding out we were out of our rooms at night, or even worse that we had the keys of the place. I sat there and moved Denki to wake him up. He opened one eye and whined
-But moooooom, it’s Saturday, I don’t have to go to school-
-Come on Denki we have to go to our rooms-
-Five more minutes- He said and hugged my leg
-Do you want Iida to found out we didn’t sleep in our rooms and telling Aizawa? -
And just like that he got up and started heading to the door
-Shit, you’re right, come on, you know that guy wakes up hella early-
We were in the stairs heading to our rooms, and although we were on Denkis floor, he kept climbing down the stairs with me.
-You don’t have to escort me to my room Denki-
-Oh but I want to- Replied the yellow haired guy
When we were in front of my door he leaned down and planted a chaste kiss in my forehead.
-Thank you for being there for me, I will remember this night for the rest of my life- And he turned around without waiting for a response disappeared heading towards the stairs.
I stepped into my room with a heavy cloud around my mind, there was so many feelings inside me that I couldn’t even tell them apart, where do I draw the line between friendship and love? Between admiration and affection? Between what I feel for Bakugo and what I feel for Denki?
I closed my eyes and remembered everything that happened yesterday, Bakugos confession, our shared kisses, the promise we made, six months apart now sounded a lot more crucial, after all the things that could happen in the matter of a few hours. Did I just said that because the heat of the moment? The words Bakugo said to me sounded so mature and logical, not like my own thoughts right now, am I just a slave of my own feelings? How would he react if he were me? What about Denki? Was he aware of all those years after his friend? And what if he knew and that is the reason why he hasn’t told me anything yet? Maybe I was just overthinking the situation, nothing was written in stone, neither my relationship with Katsuki nor Denkis feelings for me. I was getting tired of my own thoughts running in circles and not coming to an end, so I wrapped myself in the sheets of my bed and prayed for my mind to shut down so I could get some rest.
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Part 5
Heeeey I just wanted to thank all of you who read my work, LY, the next few chapters will be like an episode of skins UK, soo be warned, also there is going to be some thirst but nothing too explicit because I'm a shy motherfucker. Enjoy the last chapter free from Mrs-Dynamight Drama™
Taglist: @mikasalt
#bakugou imagine#bakugou fic#bakugou headcanons#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#denki imagine#denki x you#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#bnha headcanons#bnha fluff#mha x you#bnha x you#denki fanfic#denki fic#denki headcanons#denki x reader#denki x y/n#denki x female reader#mha imagines
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Fic writing question: 4, 12, 19 and 20!
thank you for the ask! // from this ask game
4. Which has the most “you” in it, however you’d define that?
oh, i think that would have to be until the starlight fades into night. i don't really know where that story came from except one day i was in a weird, blind panic and i scribbled as much as i could of this story in my notes app: something that's usually only reserved for personal writing. so i guess the fact that i wrote this on my notes app, something that's usually meant either for fic outlines or personal poetry / journaling / prose pieces means that i might have poured a bit more of myself into it.
12. What WIPs do you have going now? Are you excited about them?
so many. so many. excluding star wars related wips, i think my main wips (that haven't been posted yet) for beyond evil is the joseon dynasty jwds au (which i am . . . so excited to post, bc it's already very near and dear to my heart. i also think it's . . . very different from anything i'd written before, in part because i think the pining/slow burn levels are genuinely off the charts this time (and i say this after / while writing the fake married jwds au, where joo won and dong sik only finally kiss after 97k words).
besides that au, i've got some other shorter wips: i have one that has something to do with joo won and dong sik and ice skating (brought to you by a real life event that happened to me yesterday lmao), another wip that has something to do with joo won, cats, and growing trust/affection . . . another wip that's about ghost yu yeon, another wip that's like . . . i think it might be a two or three-parter, but it's hades/persephone jwds au (there is one scene that started that au and i am so excited) . . . there's yet another fic that i haven't started but i want to start, but so far it's just titled "alexa play this is me trying by taylor swift" . . . i have one fic about jeong je and dong sik and whatever the hell was their youth (i'm as much on team "park jeong je unrequited feelings for dong sik </3" but also "park jeong je and lee dong sik may or may not have actually had some kind of "more than friends" relationship, but mostly because a) they know each other best + so think okay, it's harmless to try this with each other, right? and b) two queer boys growing up in a small town? yeah.). oh, and of course . . . a midnight mass/beyond evil au that's so far called "and to dust you shall return", and there's one scene that lives rent-free in my mind and i don't really know if i'll survive it.
i realize this answer is now three paragraphs long, so i'll stop here--but as you can tell, i am very excited about them.
19. Do you make up scenes at work/on the bus/at the gym? Who are the characters that pop up the most? Do you write them down?
i make up scenes wherever i go! although i'm more than willing to admit that some of my fics were written/scribbled down in my notebook during my 10 am class last semester . . . i'm pretty sure that was where i wrote the entirety of with paper rings lmao--
the characters that are currently popping up in my head the most are, of course, probably han joo won and lee dong sik. although oddly more of han joo won these days. i'm not sure why--i think he needs attention right now. obi-wan kenobi comes to mind every once in a while too (we're currently on a break, but y'know, we get coffee from time to time).
but anyways--i do write them down! or try to, as soon as i'm able.
20. Go nuts, and talk about writing. Or write me a little ficlet-whatsit using a character/image/line I shall now specify:
talk about writing . . . just writing itself? i feel like after watching things and noticing the interweaving themes/character archetypes, i'm becoming pretty influenced by mike flanagan. or at least, i want to write something that draws on what i've learned/observed of a lot of mike flanagan's works: something that's frightening, but something that's also very quiet and very lovely. something about loss, for sure, and something about a love story disguised in horror. i've honestly fallen in love with that genre--something twisted and terrifying turning out to actually be a love story (beyond evil, the haunting of bly manor, the haunting of hill house, midnight mass) . . . and so, i think it would be cool to write something like that of my own one day. (which is what i'm kind of doing? i have a few original works that very much sit in the horror genre, but also, it's about people falling in love despite the potential of loss and so on and so forth.)
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Feral Fatality
(Part 3)
Last update for now! I hit a wall and so...I need to shift direction, make way for my requests (up til now I merely wrote one word) so gonna forget this one for the time being and push this deep under every article I have in the works—
Anyways, some fluff before I disappear *insert peace out and fade meme*
Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Nothing extreme, a little blood only.
—
The masked killer gave you one shook of his head before he took off.
Saving you... for last?
Why weren't you afraid? Hell, you are going insane.
You looked down at the corpse under you. Time to clean up the mess, no one would want a rotting bitch on their doorstep.
Standing up, you decided to drag the body into the woods, maybe an animal would be happy to eat her flesh.
Huh, you were taking everything so well.
-
After you left her body a good distance away from your cabin, you went back to wash up, the red liquid on your skin was beginning to itch. You took off your clothing, the blood on your them was hopefully still removable, you wouldn't want to throw them away if you can help it.
Your thoughts strayed to that of earlier. You killed someone. You killed Betty.
And it felt good. Euphoric, even.
You never thought you could end someone's life, one of many that wanted you dead too.
"It was self-defense..." you assured. They intended to kill you anyway, the food they served for you was possibly poisoned. Even a fool would notice how suspicious they acted.
Not to mention Eloiza declared it straight to my face.
Then again, she would still die with the murderer out for her blood, it's just that I ended her myself.
Everyone's probably dead by now.
You stared at your hands– your palms, swollen from gripping your murder weapon.
"...Jason Voorhees. I wonder if he'll kill me too..."
You trailed off as your head drooped, your previous high fading out as your limbs felt heavy. Wobbling your way to your bed, gravity did its thing and you fell on the soft sheets and blacked out, the distant ringing of screams but a mere lullaby to you.
—
The ever-rising sun warmed your slumbering form as its rays peeked through the gaps of the window, stirring you into consciousness.
You groaned, rolling away from the prickles of their heat, wanting to get more sleep from last night's events...
Last night?
You shot up, rubbing your grogginess away as the thoughts of the past evening came rushing in. You couldn't believe it. Or did you? Did you really do it?
Was it all a dream??
You brought your hand to your right cheek, the action so sudden that you smacked yourself, instantly regretting it when you felt like you've just planted your face on nails.
"God fucking—" You clenched your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, muffling your scream. Little tears threatened to pour out so you looked up to keep them in. When the pain numbed down, you exhaled and panted hoarsely.
Well, damn me if it was a dream, that fucking hurt!
A gurgling noise.
Right, I didn't eat anything for dinner.
You sighed, time to take care of your business before anything else! You could eat a whole stallion with the way your stomach grumbled. You stood up and plodded to the cupboards where you kept your food. Unfortunately, you didn't have a horse at hand, and you doubt you could even kill such a beautiful animal, so some easy-to-open corned beef would have to do. Maybe two-three cans would sate your hunger.
Knock, knock.
"Yeah, yeah, wait a bit, I'm opening dinner... breakfast. Dinkfast or breakner? Mm." You responded nonchalantly, still lethargic from both the pain and exhaustion. You pulled on the ring of the can. And it resisted like a lil shit. Three more tries and it didn't budge. You slammed it down the table, huffing.
Easy-open my ass!
Knock, knock.
Yeah, right, the door. You moved to grab the knob and whipped it open. Your face met with a broad chest, a bluish, dark gray shirt stained with what looked like dried blood and dirt. Slowly trailing up, you froze as you met two blue orbs staring down at you from behind a hockey mask. Your jaw dropped.
The silence dragged on for who knows how long before you broke away and fumbled. Absolutely lost, you did what a totally sane person would do.
You stepped aside and invited him in.
"I, uh, come in then, Mr...Voorhees." You uttered, your eyes unblinking as you looked anywhere than at the killer who took careful steps into the cabin.
——
Jason trudged to the cabin you resided few hours after he finished cleaning up the mess. Ten meters away and muffled words followed by a silent scream reached his ears. Five large strides and he was at your doorstep, coming to a halt and contemplating on barging in and scaring you even more, or knocking.
Knocking seems to be the calmer option, although he was concerned if you were hurt again. He doesn't know why he's feeling such...emotions towards you, technically a trespasser but different...
A minute passed before he knocked, twice. You answered something about eating and made-up words. He knocked again after he heard you slam something down and huff. Before he knew it you opened your door and stared. You were a lot shorter up close, craning your neck up to meet him.
You looked at each other for a while, before you moved out of the way to let him in. Even going as far as calling him Mr. Voorhees, which baffled him. So you knew who he was. If so, why didn't you leave or scream at him? That and a bunch of questions ran around his head.
He needs answers.
——
You stood to his left, facing his side as you felt awkward. You were in a room with a mass murderer, a legend. What's more, you were the one who let him in. You pinched the sleeve of your navy blue jacket from behind as you rocked on your feet. Was he here to end your life? No, no wait, if he wanted that he could have done it when you were asleep. You're pretty sure he could break down the door and crush you with it and you would never wake up again. Same as just now but he...he knocked? What will you even do if he decides to carry out the task now? You were, by no means, fit to fight back. You can't even open a fucking easy-open can! He could snap you like a twig any second now.
You waited, resigning to your fate and wishing you were reincarnated as a rock in your next life.
"..."
Well, nothing happened. He just stood there, unmoving as he faced the opposite wall.
A grumble and he whipped his head to you, making you flinch. Curse your stomach for being such a whiny shit. But you couldn't resist your hunger anymore, you need to eat. Moving a step at a time around him, you took hold of the can and pulled, swearing when it didn't budge. You were gonna die at this rate, if not by the killer behind you then by fucking starvation.
You felt a finger poke your shoulder, not even a flinch as you were too frustrated to care at the moment. You turned around to face the man, he was looking at the can you were holding.
"Oh, uh, I haven't eaten anything? The damn can just won't let me have what's inside." Since when did you talk this much?
He gestured, his gloved palm exposed, as if waiting for you to give him the can.
You placed it in his hand. With one tug, ONE TUG, of his finger it opened. It looked like he just touched it and the lid gave away. You huffed in disbelief as he handed it over to you with two fingers. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer and started wolfing down the contents. If you were gonna die might as well be full.
When it was empty, you glanced at the other can on the table, untouched. You looked back and forth a couple of times between the man and at it. You guessed he understood since he silently picked up the can and opened it for you. The corned beef ended in your stomach seconds later.
You set the last can down, only to pick them all up and dumped them inside a garbage bag you set up yesterday. Grabbing your tumbler from beside the sink, you took large sips from it.
Wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, you walked past him and went to sit on the bed. He followed you. You stared at the one who murdered everybody else, standing in the middle of the cabin.
"..."
"So...Am I supposed to die now?" you asked. You sneaked a glance at the machete in his holster.
He didn't give you any response, but he stepped closer until he was in front of you. You didn't look up.
The man raised his hand, and you shut your eyes, expecting the worst— only hoping it was painless and quick.
You almost jerked when you felt his hand on your head.
But what surprised you was how gentle it was, no pressure at all, not even close to a killing move. Then you realized...
He's...he's patting my head.
His hand...wasn't cold nor warm, but the way he did it was akin to petting a little animal; stroking the top of your head so softly you sniffled. This made him stop and step away from you, his hands waving— hovering around you it was practically comical.
"N-No, I'm alright," you answered his silent question. "It's just...I've never been patted like that before and I...It was nice."
You've been subjected to abuse and degradation most of your life that a gesture, one that meant no harm or malice, made you cry. You wiped away the wetness of your eyes before you looked at him.
"Thank you, Mr. Voorhees. I actually wouldn't mind if you kill me, but I guess you won't...?"
He gave you a soft grunt in reply, and you giggled.
The man patted your head once more, before he made his way out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.
You let out a quiet breath. Jason Voorhees simply appeared on your doorstep, helped you with your food, patted your head, and walked out without a word.
It's crazy and it wasn't a dream— if the throbbing on your cheek was any indication.
You're happy though. More than happy to be alive.
#jason voorhees#jason voorhees x reader#jason x reader#jason voorhees x fem!reader#feral fatality#athenawrites#my writing#slasher fic#slasher x reader#slasher x fem!reader#friday the 13th#horror fic#fluff#slasher writing#slasher fanfiction#jason voorhees fanfiction
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Unsymptober Day 6: Mind Control
Trigger Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, Mind Control, Forced self harm, Blood, Knives, Dehumanization, Verbal/Emotional/Physical abuse, Gaslighting.
Note: Beginning is after Accepting Anxiety and end is after DWIT.
Once Virgil had formed an understanding with the Light Sides, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. Of course this didn't mean all of their feuds were resolved. There was still the issue of Janus and Remus needing Thomas to be aware of them and accepting them as facets of his personality. Not to mention the tense relationship between them and the Light Sides. Hopefully, though, this could lead to the Lights to open up to the idea of understanding Janus and Remus as well.
The anxious side opened the door that served as a barrier in the mind palace between the Darks and Lights. Virgil couldn't help the amused smirk that stretched across his lips as the spooky- most would call absolutely terrifying- sound echoed from inside the long pitch black hallway, confirming that the thing entering was another Dark Side. Janus had put a protective spell on their door that had been there- since forever, really- as a precaution in case the Lights tried to sneak in. It was strong enough that even Virgil had a difficult time getting in every once in a while. Thankfully, though, Janus could sense when it was him and can let him in at any time.
Virgil shut the door behind him, the usual yellow glow around the rimms flashed for a brief second before disappearing, leaving the anxious side in complete blackness. The lengthy hallway was freezing and there were always sounds of...something growing along the walls. Virgil was able to proceed without a care, though. Maybe it was because his purple irises that were made to help him see in the dark automatically switched on by instinct or that he was just used to the atmosphere of the Dark Side home. Probably both.
"Hey, hey! Look who's home! Say, Dee, ya think I should melt into the wall and try and spook 'im when he gets to the living room?!~"
"You do realize he can hear you, Remus. It wouldn't be much of a surprise. And no, I've already spoken to you about melting into the walls."
"Aw, you're no fun!"
Virgil rolled his eyes, the smirk never leaving his face at the familiar voices echoing in the distance. He finally made it to the aforementioned common room and waved at the two taller figures waiting for him.
"I'm home.", Virgil greeted, letting out an 'oof' as Remus wrapped an aggressive- but affectionate- arm around his shoulders.
"Hey there, tiny! Took ya long enough!", The creative side pulled him closer for a rough noogie, laughing as Virgil tried to break free to no avail.
"Augh, Remus! Let go!"
"How did it go today? I hope they didn't give you too much trouble.", Janus approached the two shorter sides with crossed arms.
His voice was even and calm but Virgil could tell Janus was on the defensive, for his sake, against the Lights. He always was when he returned. The things Virgil told him of his experience with them had his protective elder brother mode cranked up to a million.
Virgil snapped out of his annoyance towards Remus at the question, "Uh...yeah, about that. We need to talk."
"What did they do?", Remus had loosened his grip on Virgil a bit, his tone quickly went from playful to low and dangerous. Which prompted Virgil to explain before he did anything that would reverse all the progress they made.
"N-Nothing! Well- not nothing but….", The anxious side saw their eyes narrow and he cleared his throat, freeing himself from Remus's embrace, standing up straight and rubbing his neck nervously, "Uh, so- They kind of...accepted me? They came looking for me and we talked. Thomas is no longer resisting my spot at the discussion table."
Remus scoffed, "Yeah, right. After all that?"
"I was skeptical at first, too.", Virgil admitted, "But they really made a genuine effort to understand me."
The creative side wasn't buying it, turning to Janus. The deceitful side nodded, "From what I can tell he's being truthful, Remus. And I doubt he'd speak of it if he didn't feel like all of this was for certain."
Virgil was calmed by Janus's ever present rationality. But he knew this conversation wasn't over. "Although", He began again, "I am curious about what they said about the rest of us."
The anxious side bit his lip.
Janus's expression softened, "It's alright. Take your time."
Virgil sighed, "They-well, Roman, really- said that I was nothing...compared to you guys."
Remus chuckled bitterly, leaning against the wall, "Fucking typical. What'd I tell you?"
"I understand and trust me, share your anger, Remus. But they were not only willing to hear Virgil out but also came looking for him after he, to them at least, went missing.", Janus turned back to Virgil, "Remember that this is for Thomas's sake and working as a unit is far more efficient than doing it separately. Regardless of how...strained our family ties are."
Virgil responded with a smile which the taller side returned. He knew Janus would be understanding but it was still relieving to hear out loud. The deceitful side was known to be incredibly protective of all of them and unapologetic about his opinion towards the Lights. But thankfully that didn't mean he wasn't unwilling to make amends, provided they offered the same courtesy.
"So we're letting them in just like that?", Remus protested.
Janus laughed, "Absolutely not. I'm not going to let go of all the bitterness I feel simply because they were nice once to one of us. They have quite a ways to go to earn my trust and even longer to earn my respect.", He layed a gentle hand on Virgil's shoulder, "But what happened is worth noting."
Remus hummed, still skeptical of the whole thing, "We're going to still have to worm our own way in. Plus Thomas isn't even conscious of us yet."
Janus nodded, "Naturally. We can't just have our stormcloud being the middle-man for us forever.", A fond smile stretched on his face at Virgil's small grunt in response to his pet name.
"Eh, whatever.", Remus sighed, "You're the boss. If it means I can get my ideas heard, I don't really care how."
"Very good.", Janus clasped his hands together, "Now, it's been a long day. We'll discuss this further in the morning."
The three sides separated for the evening. Virgil distinctly remembered the following morning. They had started discussing ways to ease Thomas into accepting the parts of himself that he blocks out and working from there to get the others to follow suit. Virgil still had the memory of the last thing he said to them.
"I certainly hope any of these scenarios will work. Virgil, are you sure about this?"
"Yeah, no worries. Leave it to me. I just don't want you guys to have to hide anymore."
Leave it to me.
He had said. And he meant it. He would've followed through with his promise but he didn't anticipate the situation he managed to get himself into.
Virgil was speaking to Patton while they got together for a movie marathon. Everything happened so fast. He brought up the Dark Sides, their recent reconciliation, and the possibility of them being able to come to an understanding since he was accepted. Before he could read Patton's expression as his smile fell, Virgil...felt something change in him. The anxious side wasn't able to decipher what at the time but by the time he had, it was already too late.
"I don't think you should trust them, kiddo. Stay with us."
That was all he said. Virgil opened his mouth to try and defend the others, try to convince Patton that it was possible for everyone to get along. But the words died in his throat. What came out instead shocked the anxious side.
"You're right, Patton. I'm so glad to finally be away from them. Thanks for...embracing me and giving me a proper family.", Virgil had a hard time processing what he said. He hadn't meant a single word of it yet his tone, body language, and expression reflected his words perfectly.
"Your welcome, kiddo.", Patton smiled warmly at him.
"I didn't mean any of that. Patton, the others can be trusted, you guys just need to give them a chance."
"Honestly, I don't know why I stayed with them for so long. All they did was cause trouble and made me miserable.", A spiteful growl left Virgil's lips.
The anxious side thought he saw Patton's warm smile fade slightly.
"Maybe because you didn't have any other option.", Patton smiled sadly, "We didn't give you any. We had no idea how horrible you had it. But now we do and there's no need to worry anymore. We won't let them hurt you."
The moral side placed a comforting hand on his knee, "I promise."
"They've never hurt me! I was perfectly fine! I just wanted respect. And they deserve the same!"
"I'm….still afraid, Pat.", Virgil mentally swore. What the hell was going on?!
"I know. But I'll always be here. And so will Roman and Logan."
"Thanks. That makes me feel a little better.", Virgil finally returned his smile.
"No, you all are part of the problem. I'll never feel comfortable if I have to choose between two halves of my family!"
His true feelings were locked up nice and tight. Virgil learned very quickly that what he actually thought was met with consequences. Nasty ones. Patton pulled him aside after everyone had fallen asleep.
"I'm sure you've caught on by now, Virgil.", The moral side said simply, "Unfortunately, as I predicted, you aren't weak enough to convince completely. You still have some free will in there. You Dark Sides really are a pain."
He adjusted his glasses with a sigh but smiled brightly nonetheless, "But that's a-okay! I've got a little back up! If you're going to be our family Virgil, I'll have to set some rules first!", Patton handed him a small pocket knife, "Hurt yourself."
Virgil blinked at the request. Patton's sweet smile remained, "For every forbidden thought you have, you are to hurt yourself with varying severity."
The anxious side's blood went cold. Judging by his expression, Patton wasn't kidding. "Hmm, since you had three forbidden thoughts today, let's start off with three wounds. Do it.", He commanded.
Virgil's hand moved, despite him trying to fight back against the urge forced on him. He reached for his face, ready to cut just below his eye but the moral side caught his wrist, guiding it back down.
"Ah, ah, kiddo. Not on areas where others can see.", Patton purred, "We wouldn't raise suspicion now, would we?"
He guided the anxious side's hand down further. , "Here. Your stomach. I think there's a good start."
Patton released him, watching as Virgil lifted his shirt. "Under your belly button, Virge. Since you had the guts to bring them up in a positive light."
Virgil's teeth sank into his bottom lip as he penetrated his skin, dragging it along to the other side, hot blood already beginning to soak his lower half.
"Your chest now, kiddo. One under and one in the center."
Virgil complied, holding back a scream as the excruciating pain shot through him. Patton let it drag on, taking his sweet time in telling him to stop.
"Okey dokey!~ That's enough for now.", Patton clapped.
Virgil stopped on command. He made a mess, though it was nothing compared to the agony he felt. His blood was still gushing out of him, the sight, the pain, made him burst into quiet tears.
Patton's smile remained but he rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush. You're a Dark Side, you've had worse and those wounds will heal almost right away.", The moral side pat his cheek, "Now go clean up and head to bed. We have some filming to do tomorrow."
Patton began to walk away but stopped briefly, "Oh, and welcome to the family!"
With that, he left.
From then on Virgil was forced to treat the Dark Sides exactly how Patton did. He didn't know how long Patton had him under control but it was apparently it was long enough that Janus had decided to take things into his own hands and make an appearance. Virgil was so overwhelmed with joy, he had completely forgotten the situation he was trapped in.
"Dee! I'm so happy to see you!"
"Anyone who doesn't understand that should just shut up.", Virgil felt sick to his stomach. No, no!
The hurt on Janus's face filled him with so much guilt, "Virgil...it's me.", He said with an uncertain, broken voice, pointing to himself. , "Aren't we friends?"
"Of course we are! More than that, we're family!"
Virgil scoffed, "I'm not so sure we are."
Janus proceeded in his attempt to convince Thomas on his own and all Virgil could do was sit there, wishing he could scream that he didn't mean it.
Eventually, Janus being the clever snake he was, found his own way of having his voice heard. Virgil was happy, proud even but the guilt he felt was awful. If he had been there, this transition period would have been a lot smoother and they could've worked on it together.
Patton was having none of it. The more obvious it became that the Dark Sides were getting closer to their goal, the more he doubled down on Virgil behaving more and more cruel forcing him to take his side at every turn.
And every time Virgil wanted to shout that he was being controlled. That he didn't mean a word of it. He desperately wanted to embrace Janus and Remus and apologize for every nasty thing he was forced to say to them.
And every time he thought that way, Patton punished him. There was nothing he could do. He may be stuck like this forever, regardless if the others were accepted or not. Patton would find a way to use him to undo all their progress.
----
"Virgil really just abandoned us all and cozied up to ol' four eyes, huh?", Remus snarled with disgust.
Janus hummed with agreement, resting his chin on his conjoined fingers, "Yes, it seems so.", He turned to the shorter side, "You know why, right?"
Remus kicked the chair next to him, " 'Course. I ain't fucking stupid! But what are we going to do? Personally, I just want to charge in there and beat the shit out of him until he lets Virgil go. But I'm guessing you're looking for something more tactful."
Janus, "Leave it to me, Remus. We'll go with the original plan of getting the other's defenses down."
"And Virgil?"
"We'll set him free, rest assured. But as you said we can't just rush into this. There's also the subject of demasking Patton's true nature. We'll have to settle that first if we want a solution long term."
"It sounds like Virgil's going to have to hang in there for awhile.", Remus gripped his sleeve in frustration.
"Yes, with you watching over him."
Remus blinked, surprised.
Janus merely smirked, "I trust you can protect him as much as possible in the meantime. Just...try not to be too obvious. I don't want to put our stormcloud in any further danger."
Remus beamed, pounding his chest proudly, "Roger that, cap!"
"Good.", Janus turned away from his younger sibling with a frown, "It'll be a long road but eventually, he will pay."
The deceitful side looked down, rubbing his thumb along the old hoodie Virgil had left behind. "Stay strong, Virgil."
@unsympathetic-october-2020
#unsympathetic patton#platonic sanders sides#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic remus#familial sanders sides#unsympathetic october#tw blood#tw knives#tw forced self harm#tw self harm#tw emotional abuse#tw verbal abuse#tw physical abuse#tw gaslighting#tw mind control#sanders sides#tw dehumanization#abusive patton#evil patton#patton is a bastard#victim virgil
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A/N I do not own any of the main plot line or characters of Marvel. Those rights are reserved for the creators. Thank you.
Peter x adult!reader
You were nervous to say the least. You looked at the clock on your wall again. It was probably only 15 minutes until they would arrive. You sighed. Mae and Peter are coming over for dinner. It's only been a few months since Tony's funeral and you can't say you were coping well. Natasha...Tony... Steve... all gone. Steve wasn't dead, but he seemed on the verge of it due to his old age now, but either way you weren't ready to let him go either. It felt like you were robbed of so much time you could have spent with him. He always was my most understanding fake uncle/dad/brother...or whatever you wanted to consider him. It didn't matter how you felt though, it's what makes him happy and you have to respect that... even if internally you weren't ready to bury another one of your family members. These people helped raise you and it broke your heart to see how your family got so much smaller.
Clint made more of an appearance in your life after the events, however. After Nat died you both found great comfort and grieving her death together. He became your new outlet to vent, which had previously belonged to Steve. Actually, this whole dinner was Clint's idea. It was something that was meant to clear the air between Peter and I.
"Are you okay?"
I turned to the voice and saw my fiancé of 8 months standing in the kitchen door with his hands in his pockets and looking at me with a concerned, but supportive smile.
"No..." I admit. "I've faced mass genocide, the largest war to human kind, and losing most of my family all at once... and yet... I've never been more nervous than I am right now."
"What do you think is going to happen?" (f/n) says.
"I don't know... I know it's really not that big of a deal compared to what we've all gone through before, but for some reason I can't bear to see Peter so upset with me. It...Just...It hurts my heart. I can't explain it." you say putting your face into your hands.
"I understand... and to be honest I think it is... a big deal." (f/n) says walking over and placing his hands on my arms gently. "So many families have been disrupted by the blip. Parents seeing their children all grown up all of a sudden, couples having larger age gaps and who have grieved and moved on, people who have blipped and realized that their loved ones that have remained here passed away in that what seemed to be moments they've been gone...in which it was actually years."
You looked up at him. He gave a small smile. "You are not the only one struggling to adjust in these weird times and grieving the lost time. I'm sure Peter is just as confused and nervous as you are. He was your boyfriend, your lover. You guys were very close and I'm sure when he came back from the blip he still thought you were the same as ever... only to realize that it wasn't the case."
"He saw me for the first time at Tony's funeral...and he wouldn't even talk to me. He just stared at me... almost like he was afraid of me." The sentence came out like it was a soft whisper, but ended with just pain and hurt in it.
"Is that a bad thing?" (f/n) asked. "Wouldn't you be? I know I would, especially if I was just a 16 year old kid."
"No no...No... You're right. I honestly should be thinking about him too. He's probably shell shocked and I'm just worried about myself." You take a deep breath and gave a slight bitter chuckle. "I'm the adult here. I've matured and learned to cope. I shouldn't be the one who's scared here."
"I think it's okay for you both to be scared. Don't worry, though. I'll be there and Mae will be there to help. Clint says he'll be standing by if you need help." It was at that moment, the doorbell rang making you jump. "You got this. I promise."
He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving to answer the door. You mulled over his words for a moment before sucking in a breath and following him. As you walked through your living room you reached up and began fixing your hair as you walked. You wanted to make sure you at least looked like you weren't a complete mess, but you were on the inside. A horrible, grieving, pitiful, shawarma and ice cream eating mess.
I wore black. It was my go to color. Not because I was sad or grieving, but because it is the most convenient color and showed so much class while also hiding your shame. There was very little the color black couldn't hide. You were grateful that when you joined SHIELD and the main uniform color was black. You cut your hair shorter and mostly wore it up in a tight seamless bun for work, but tonight it is in its full glory. Your fiancé wore basic white button up and black pants. He had on a tie before, but you supposed it was bothering him so he took it off. At least he put on the black blazer as well. You never liked the tie anyway. It was just something Steve had said one time that was necessary for important events. He taught (f/n) how to tie it and everything.
You stood beside (f/n) a little ways back as you were bit afraid. He opened the door and there stood Mae, Peter, and shockingly Happy smiling back. Peter actually wasn't smiling. He wasn't even looking at neither you nor (y/n). His gaze was to the side towards the floor. It was clear that he wasn't ready to face reality either. Your eyes moved back to the group as a whole. "Happy, what are you doing here?" You- asked stretching out a smile that may have seemed a little forced.
"Well, I was just popping over to the Parker residence from visiting Pepper and Morgan, and Mae invited me to come along, so I thought I haven't seen you in a while and there was no harm in dropping by as well. I wanted to see what you've been up to and what not." Happy nodded with a big smile. He leaned close and half whispered "Mae thought that you all could use as much help as you could get with this weird situation anyway."
"O-oh... okay... well um. Thanks for coming. I'm sure it's appreciated." You internally cursed. More people to witness the horror that will be this dinner. You turned your attention to Mae. "Hi, Mae." You smiled a bit and you could tell she already had tears pricking her eyes and she held out her arms for a big hug. She gave you tight motherly squeeze and rubbed your back. "Hi, Honey. Gosh, you've gotten so big. You just look absolutely beautiful."
"Yes. Thank you. It's been so long since I've seen you... Well I suppose not to you." You attempted a joke to lighten the mood. She and Happy laughed though that joke didn't seem to land well with Peter as he didn't laugh and only seemed to be made more uncomfortable.
Your eyes did fixate on Peter now and the silence of the group became thick and very tense. He wasn't saying anything and you bit your lip. "Hey...Peter." Your voice was softer and sounded week. He looked exactly the same. Young baby face with wispy brown hair that seemed to like to hang in his face depending how it fell. He did a pretty good job at keeping it combed back, however. His brown eyes finally looked back at you and widened just slightly. You looked so much different, yet, exactly the same. For starters, the makeup. That was so much more new. You never wore makeup. You were perfectly happy with the nude appearance of your face. Although you weren't wearing much makeup it was still prevalent that you had some on, but just enough to look clean and classy. Your hair wasn't as super long as you had it when you were younger. It was always down and long and it was a daily struggle for you to keep it maintained and out of paint or your food at lunch. You were always getting it caught in your mouth or finding random strands of it on your clothing or in your stuff. He remembered how sometimes when he kissed you your hair would get caught between their lips. It was embarrassing then, but now he missed it. Now it was cut much shorter and seemed more tamed. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. It didn't matter, however, for some reason in Peter's mind it made you look all the much more mature and older. Everything about you seemed older and mature. Your body was different. Slightly wider hips and a bit larger breasts. He probably wouldn't have noticed either difference if it wasn't for the dress you were wearing... or for the matter that you were wearing a dress at all. Dresses and skirts weren't your forte last time he saw you. You said they restricted you from doing the things you wanted to do. No, leggings and jeans covered in paint, pen marks, sharpies was what you wore on a daily basis along with an oversized hoody of some sort. Peter looked down at the ground. He noticed you weren't wearing any shoes. He cracked a slight side smile. At least that was one thing that didn't changed about you. You always hated wearing shoes. It didn't matter where you were or the temperature outside. Shoes were never the priority for you. You always carried a pair and wore them when you had to, but if they bothered you too much or you just found them unnecessary you'd kick them off and immediately toss them in your backpack. So many times you'd walk down the school halls bare foot with some type of drawing that you drew on them from being bored in class. Peter always thought that little quirk was cute. He could actually see a little tattoo on the side of your foot, but couldn't make it out in that moment. In fact when he looked closer, he saw that both your feet looked slightly different from each other. He wasn't quite sure, but it seemed the foot with the tattoo seemed somewhat off. He just wasn't sure what was different.
His voice finally decided to make an appearance. "Hey... again..." It didn't come out as strong as he wanted it to, but it came out enough for her to hear.
"How are you?" You asked him.
"Uh..." He didn't have anything to say. He just gave an awkward nod and a generic 'ok'. He wasn't ready to talk. You backed off and looked at the group as a whole once more.
"Oh um... everyone. This is my fiancé, (f/n)" you said stepping back and introducing your now future husband. Peter's face immediately dropped. His eyes widened and he looked back and forth between you and your fiancé in an almost panicked state. He couldn't believe it. You had found someone else. You had left him.
"Hi, everyone." (f/n) smiled and waved and shook everyone's hand, except Peter who didn't even attempt to raise his hand. His face now stared wide eyed at your fiancé who waited patiently for his hand in return. Mae nudged Peter's arm and he blinked a couple of times in realization and took (f/n)'s hand to shake. "Oh yeah um sorry... it's nice to meet you." He says politely trying to cover up how frazzled he was for a moment.
"Well, everyone. Why don't you come inside?" You say and step to the side allowing everyone to filter into your home.
"Wow... fancy." Happy says looking around at stuff.
"Happy, you knew I lived here." You say unamused.
"I've never seen the inside, though." He commented back.
"So how long have you lived here?" Mae asks looking at the light fixtures.
"3 years or so now." You say watching them. "I know it's much different than that dingy apartment I was at before."
"Yeah um.... How did you get a place like this?" Peter asks quietly.
"Uh well... with my new job and the housing being cheaper from the blip and-"
"Tony bought it." Happy commented bluntly cutting you off.
You sighed. "Yes. Tony bought and designed it for me. My job at SHIELD lets me be able to pay for it."
"You work at SHIELD?" peter asks glancing back at you.
"Yes. Head of the entire global security and protection program. Also, I'm a public advocate for the international super powered and mutated community." You say with a bit of pride.
"Wow that sounds like a very high position." Mae says.
"It can be, I suppose." You shrug your shoulders.
"You've certainly come a long way since you were young." Mae says a little sad.
"I think everyone who was left here during the blip has. It just depends on if they came a long way for the better or worse. That depends on the person." You state glancing at Happy. "Right, Happy?"
"Yeah. There's been a lot of people who dropped over the edge since that, but also a lot of people who've thrived since then. We've seen it all." Happy says skeptically looking at one of the vases you had on your counter. You walked over and took the vase from Happy's hands. "Why don't we all sit down before you break something." You says putting the vase back down where it was.
"Where did you get that? It's hideous." Happy says moving towards the sofa.
"It came with the house." You stated.
"Why'd you keep it?" Happy says scrunching up his nose.
"Don't worry about it." You say ushering him to the couch.
"I happen to like it. I think it's... unique." Mae says admiring it from afar as she sat next to Happy and Peter on one of the sofas. You and (f/n) sat across from them on the other. He gave them each glasses of water in case they got thirsty. You hadn't seen him even go into the kitchen to get them.
"Oh yeah... I mean... if you look at it that way then I guess it's pretty nice." Happy says backtracking and taking a pert sip of the water he was just given. Your eyes furrow as you look between Happy and Mae. You glance at Peter who also seems confused at the interaction.
"Okay...so Happy. What were you doing at the Parker residence?" you ask Happy with a smirk.
"Oh you know. Just checking in. See how Peter is doing." Happy says not so casually.
"I see." You say as your eyes look back at Peter. "So, Peter."
"Huh?" he asks a little startled by my turn of attention to him. The water in his cup sloshing at the sudden movement. "How are you doing?"
"Oh um... okay, I guess." He responds nodding. That was it. The entire highlight of the conversation between us for the rest of the time. The rest of the time he and you both remained quiet and only spoke when spoken too. You were hurt. He was hurt. You could tell. Not only because you know him, but because teenagers tend to have less of a poker face when they're upset. No matter how hard they try to hide it, it usually slips through that they are emotional in that moment. You have learned to control that side of you a lot better. You are no longer that emotional and even if you were, you've learned to hide it a lot better. Your face remains impassive, but you sit there thinking that perhaps he doesn't need impassive. He needs something to know that you are feeling much of the same feelings he is feeling. You just don't know what to say.
"If you don't mind me asking, how did you two meet?" Mae asks setting her glass on the coffee table in front of us. Peter's attention becomes more alert at the question. It was obvious he was wondering the same thing. Just when did this happen?
"Oh no. I don't mind. I suppose that is one of the big elephant questions in the room." You say a little nervously.
"We met in physical therapy. We had the same Therapist and she brought all her patients together for group stretching once a week. It was something that was set up through a volunteer group for people with superpowers and mutations. I can't exactly remember the name, but it was group that helped with the devastation after the snap. They helped clean up and got people out of crisis and arranged for a lot of the people with powers who were injured to receive medical attention and physical therapy from medical professionals that had mutations of some sort as to not expose us or risk exploitation. Do you remember the volunteer organization's name?" (f/n) asked looking at me.
"It wasn't an organization. It was a school, I believe. Dr. Xavier ran the school. He's quite the man. I talk to him every now and again, but I haven't heard from him quite a while. He's part of the reason I got my foot in the door for advocating for those with superpowers or mutants as they call them." You state.
"Interesting. What were you going to physical therapy for?" Mae asked. "Or what I mean is, what happened?"
"Well I was on a train in New York with my sister and mother when people starting dusting away. I suppose the conductor was one of those people because our train never stopped and crashed full force into one of the buildings and derailed us from the tracks over a bridge, it sent us crashing into the streets. My mother died on impact, but I was able to protect my sister with my body. I can turn my body into different materials, so I was able to keep most of the things away from her and she just had a couple of broken bones, but I didn't move fast enough because I got a metal rod straight through the chest. It broke right near my sternum. I had no clue why or how I was still alive. I thought I was going to die in there for sure until some of the students from that school showed up." (f/n) unbuttoned his shirt half way to show the large star like shaped scar right in the center of his chest.
"That's awesome..." Happy muttered looking in awe at his scar before getting nudged in the shoulder by Mae. "I mean terrible. Truly terrible. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Yes, that's awful. I'm sorry that happened to you." Mae says sympathetically.
(f/n) chuckled and buttoned his shirt back up. "No, don't worry about it. These types of things make us stronger right? And I do agree with Happy. I think my scar is pretty awesome." He patted his chest proudly. You smiled in amusement and gave slight chuckle.
"...and you?" Peter's soft voice piped up after a moment. Everyone looked at him. He was looking at you. You weren't really sure what he was trying to ask you. He glanced at everyone before licking his lips and trying again to clarify. "Uh um. What I mean is what happened to you... as well? Why were you in, you know, physical therapy?"
"Oh. I was actually in Africa fighting in battle." You sated simply.
"You were a part of the Battle of Wakanda?" Peter asks sitting up straighter now.
You smiled a bit and let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah. It was like pulling teeth to convince Steve to let me, but yeah. I was. It was a savage alien that bit and clawed into my leg and that started the problems, but it was a female servant of Thanos that actually took my leg. Cut it clean off with swords she had."
"Oh my god. That's horrible." Mae exclaimed and Peter's eyes traveled to your foot once more. That's why your foot looked so off. It was a prosthetic. Peter thought it looked too real to be a prosthetic, but too fake to be real. You were able to walk so seamlessly though. Like you never lost your leg at all.
"Not as horrible as for her. When Natasha found out she was absolutely pissed. She and one of the Wakanda guards kicked her ass." You laughed outwardly. Peter saw the old you come out all of a sudden and all at once. He smiled brightly. "And then what happened?" he asked.
"They sent her ass through her own giant alien sawblade that they tried to kill us with!" You were full blown laughing now. The memory had you almost in tears because of how convenient and karmic the whole thing was. If you remembered correctly you remember yourself laughing in that moment as well. Despite nearly being dead in a ditch and bleeding out uncontrollably, you were still verbally shouting out cheers of praise to Nat as she fought and when she came to quickly bandage you up to stop the bleeding. You remembered Nat replying to you "Shut up, kid or I'll leave you here instead. All that shouting is going to make you pass out anyway." Funny enough she wasn't too far off the target because it wasn't long after she told you that did you fall unconscious from blood loss and woke up with a sweet new robotic vibranium prosthetic leg in Wakanda's medical ward.
"So, if she cut your leg off what happened next." Peter asked now interested in the story.
"Nat bandaged me up, I passed out, and I woke up with a sweet new robotic leg in Wakanda's medical ward. After I was healed enough I was transferred to Xavier's school where I sharpened my powers and did physical therapy along with the others. Once I was healed, Tony came back from outer space. Once he was recovered he told us everything and eventually upgraded my leg. Now it looks almost like I never lost a leg. Well, sort of. It still looks a bit off and it glitches every now and again, but I'm not complaining. I can still walk so." You shrugged now crossing your leg over the other and folding your arms over your chest.
"Wow. That's really cool." Peter said breathlessly. He seemed to admire you so much more. You knew you were now Tony Stark, but it was nice to have those admiring eyes directed towards you for once. The type of eyes that didn't hold romantic feelings, but still held the belief that everything you did was cool and amazing.
"Thank you, Peter." You smiled.
"So when are you two getting married?" Happy asks randomly and taking a gulp of water.
*smash*
The glass in Peter's hand immediately smashes in his palm. Everyone makes a noise in surprise at the sudden sound and turn to Peter. "Oh! Uh... I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'll... I'll clean it up." Peter says getting down on the floor to clean it up.
"Peter, your hand." You gasp setting your cup down. His hand started bleeding from all the glass shards that decided to embed themselves into his skin.
"Oh um..." Peter's face flushed a bright red. He couldn't help but feel intense embarrassment about the situation.
"Don't worry about the glass. I got it. You go with (y/n) and get your hand all patched up, okay?" (f/n) says already standing to go and get the broom.
"Yeah, come on, Peter. I have a first aid kit in the kitchen." You say standing up and helping him to his feet. You held his arm as he kept his hand underneath his injured one, hoping to catch the blood so it wouldn't get onto your carpet. You walked him to the kitchen. "Just put your hand over the sink and I'll be there in a moment."
"Okay." Peter says doing what you asked as you began to rummage around the medicine cabinet. Peter began to run his hand under a bit of water as you came back with the first aid kit. You first got some tweezers and a dish towel and dragged 2 chairs over so we could sit. You first sat down and put the dish towel across your lap. Peter then sat down and you gently grabbed his hand and set it in your lap while looking closely at it. "Nothing bad it looks like. Obviously nothing the Amazing Spiderman can't handle." You joke looking at him with a smile and he smiles back with an awkward laugh.
A silence falls over you both as you begin to focus on plucking the tiny shards from his hand. You didn't notice how the air got thicker and you certainly didn't notice how things got increasingly more difficult for Peter to stomach. He stared at you the entire time and the longer he did the more his heart broke. You didn't notice how his straight face slowly broke until you saw a few tear drops fall onto the surface of the hand you were working on and you heard a choked back sob. You looked up and saw his face as he turned away. You set the towel with glass pieces aside and held his hand. You knew he wasn't crying because of his hand or if there was a possibility you hurt him. He was much tougher than that. You also knew you couldn't physically hurt him even if you wanted to. His powers made it easier for him to handle a lot more than a regular human. No, his pain was internal. His kind soft heart was bursting with pain. "Peter..." you said softly with a frown.
"I... I miss you." He said finally with his head down and his chest heaved. "I miss you so much."
This is where your heart broke and you couldn't even keep your composure anymore. You hugged Peter and you hugged him tight. You hugged him like how you wanted to hug him the day you found out that he was one of the victims of the Snap. You hugged him like he would dust away again. You hugged him like he would leave you again, but this time not come back. And you cried. Oh, you cried like you should have when you first saw him again. You cried as you were finally getting the closure you wanted. It was five years, but you had him in your arms again and you couldn't be more grateful. "I miss you, too."
"First I lost Mr. Stark and now you..." he began crying harder now. He drops to his knees on the floor and his face goes to your lap.
"That's not true. I'm right here." I told him holding him tighter.
"But you're not mine anymore. You're his... and it only seems like just a few months ago you were at my house and we were playing video games and listening to music." Peter said getting his voice more.
"But it wasn't a few months ago. It's been years, Peter." You tell him stroking his hair.
"I know... but... it's just not fair!" he says gripping the fabric of your dress around your thighs tight in his balled fists.
"I know, I know it's not fair." You tell him as more tears fell from your eyes.
"If... if he wasn't there... If you weren't getting married, would you wait for me?" he asked quietly. You pressed your lips together. This was a very heavy question. It wouldn't change the outcome of how things were now no matter how you answered, but it could change the way Peter thought about things and how your relationship would be from here on out. You had to answer carefully. Either he could be angry with you and refuse to have contact with you, or he could have a false sense of hope and closure all depending on how you answered his question. You just hated to see him so upset and you wanted to give in, but you also could not lie to him either. If you ever loved him then you would not lie to him, even now.
"No, Peter." I told him gently petting his hair. His body tensed at the words. "Look at me."
He didn't move, so you shifted your body away slightly and lifted his chin up, so he would look at you. "Peter, I want you to listen to me. I want you to really hear what I am trying to tell you."
He looks at you with his tear stained face, but he does what you ask. "What happened to us is cruel and unfair, but it did happen. This whole situation is hard to swallow and seeing you like this kills me. Seeing your face for the first time when you came back and realizing you didn't grow up with me was one of the hardest things I had to come to terms with because I immediately realized that we couldn't work. I think it was even harder for me when I realized that when you came back, you had no idea what had happened and you thought we were still together like always. I found it difficult when I saw the reality hit you when you looked at me for the first time at Tony's funeral. I still care deeply for you, but you are still a child, Peter. You blipped. I didn't. I mourned and moved on. I know that when you become in your twenties it won't really be a big deal anymore with the age gap, but that's nearly 10 years of my life waiting for you. That's 10 years of my life halted and stagnant. That's also nearly 5 years of your life wasted waiting on me when you also need to move on. I'm sorry, but it won't be healthy if you wait for me."
He doesn't say anything for a long while. He just sets his head back down in your lap as he thinks over what you just told him. I don't mind, however. You said what you had to. You couldn't lie to him. It wasn't the adult or right thing to do. You had to just rip the band aid off. It seemed we sat there for a while. I knew the others were giving us our privacy. We all knew this dinner was really just to break the news to Peter that our relationship wouldn't work and hoping we could still be okay afterwards.
"Do you love him?" he asked quietly, his voice breaking a bit.
"Yes." You answered back.
"Did you love me?"
"Yes."
"Do you still love me?"
"Yes."
"But... not the same way..." he sighed.
"...No... not in the same way." You tell him gently.
"I... I suppose that's okay." He muttered, even if he didn't like his own answer.
"Thank you, Peter." You say with a smile looking down at him.
"For what?" he asks looking up at you.
"For understanding, for not being angry, for being a good person, for doing the right thing for yourself and I, ... and for just giving me some of the best moments of my life being with you." You tell him happily.
"O-oh. No problem." He says now getting back up off the floor and going to his feet.
You follow suit. His face was still tear stained, but he didn't have complete dread in his eyes anymore.
"It's going to take a while for me to get over you." He says looking at the ground.
"I know it will because it took me awhile. (f/n) was very patient with me." You tell him before thought came into her head. "Peter, I know this is too soon, but may I point you in a direction of people to consider giving a chance?"
"Um... okay?" He didn't seem too comfortable, but he was open to hear what she suggested.
"You know Michelle Jones that was in our class, right? I believe she just went by MJ."
"MJ?" Peter thought taking it into consideration.
#spiderman#peter parker#tom holland#xreader#infinity war#endgame#marvel#tony stark#black widow#steve rogers#hawkeye
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The Night We Met
Based on the song ‘The Night We Met’ By Lord Huron
Hawthorne and Miss Robichaux's Academy become intertwined, helping each other by learning off one and other. However, you learn about Michaels plan and have to bid him a farewell unable to support him through his decisions.
Pairing: Michael x Y/N
Warnings: Best-Friend!Michael, Painful Angst, Heartbreak, Choking, TW: Physical Abuse, Toxic relationships
Word Count: 2k
When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears
“Familiarize yourselves with each other briefly, shortly dinner will commence,” Cordelia announced re-explaining the current situation as if you were stupid, she wore all white with a classy but overdramatic cape to signify how she was the Supreme.
You sat wedged between Zoe and Madison as your small coven sat on the multiple couches spread around the, you almost wanted to call it a study, books filled the shelves all the way up to the ceiling. It was definitely an acquired taste with an outdated fireplace along with a twisted metal staircase leading to another compartment of the enormous place.
Your whole coven was waiting for the warlocks, who seemed to be taking their sweet time arriving. This was their damn academy you’d think they would be a little bit more professional.
“Punctuality, males have none do they?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes while you fiddled with your hands that were placed uncomfortably on your lap. You tended to become bored easily so sitting for long periods of wasted time was definitely not your forte.
You were the most hesitant towards the intertwining of both the academies, not wanting the males with their inflated ego’s and cocky attitudes ruin your reputation and your coven’s.
“Y/N watch your tongue around them, although we are farther superior than their kind we have to honour the truce we have recently agreed to,” Myrtle scolded you, her orange crimped hair moving as she shook her head adjusting the glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose, pushing them up slightly.
“You wouldn’t want to start a world war three already, would you?” Madison deadpanned, removing her gaze off her nearly perfect manicured nails to side-eye you as a smirk grew on her face.
“Depends, I’m in the mood for a little hell-raising,” You arrogantly smiled at Cordelia, tilting your head as if to test the waters of her tolerance.
Multiple pairs of shoes clicking against the tiles caught your attention, a short man donning a top hat and maroon black cape stood before all of the warlocks who were dressed in proper tuxedos eagerly waiting to be let in, you assumed he was the chancellor.
“Ariel, Behold,” Cordelia introduced, gesturing to enter the room as all of your fellow witches arose from their seats getting ready to probably playfully entice them and flirt their way to death.
Unphased by all of the males, you slithered your way to the back corner of the room, you back hitting the books on the way down to the floor letting your body collapse with exhaustion.
Trying and failing at keeping yourself entertained, you closed your eyes letting out a frustrated sigh as the noise of chattering started to get on your nerves.
A cough broke you from your trance, Gaze starting at a pair of shiny black shoes you followed up the figure to be met with a strawberry blonde haired blue-eyed prince charming look-alike.
“Being unsociable at a gathering isn’t lady-like,” He observed a ghost of a smile on his pinkish tinted lips as he leant over you almost intimidatingly.
“Is that all you came to say?” You questioned, peering up at the warlock with blatant uninterest while balling yourself up even more uncomfortably.
“Sorry, how rude of me I’m Michael Langdon,” He introduced himself, holding out his hand for you to reach for, like a gentleman.
Taking his hand in yours, he helped pull you up from the floor the personal space was almost non-existent as you began to introduce yourself to him.
“Y/N, L/N,” You replied, furrowing your brows in cautiousness unable to hide the faint blush on your cheeks, you weren’t used to people paying attention to you.
Fast forward to today, eavesdropping was something you casually did and definitely weren’t proud of but in some cases, it had previously saved you from the peril of this godforsaken world.
Noticing Michael’s absence from dinner, you decided to follow him loosely after he passed the dining room, confused to as why he would be going to the surface at this time of night.
The atmosphere was freezing, the wind brushing up against the trees and fresh air entering your lungs almost made you feel normal.
Hiding by the entrance of the academy, Michael paused gazing over his shoulder, for a second you stopped breathing surely thinking he had spotted you.
Continuing on, he began to skip towards a figure in the distance who was significantly shorter than him, squinting you tried to identify them without any luck.
Sneaking in the opposite direction, you decided to make a bolt towards the trees as it would give you enough camouflage and noise range so you could hear the both of them.
“Oh my boy, look at you, you’re skin and bones, you’re wasting away do they even feed you?” She asked, releasing him from the tight embrace they currently shared.
Michael smiled a true genuine joy-struck expression on his face, you hadn’t seen that smile in ages. You guessed the woman dressed in all black was someone precious to him from his childhood that he never spoke about.
“I’m fine just tell me you took care of the problem,” He fretted, placing his hands on both of her shoulders desperately praying for a good outcome, the predicament he was in had caused him more harm than he bargained for.
“Your problem is now an overstacked country barbeque, you can bury him in a shoe box if they can find him,” She rambled on, laughing a bit as relief flooded his face.
Letting out a small gasp, you covered your mouth petrified that you would accidentally give away your position. Who did they kill?
“Good, these people are the only ones who could pose a threat to me, once I become supreme I can destroy them from within and eliminate their whole fucking coven, then the road is clear for what I'm supposed to do.” He passionately spoke, his eyes nearly igniting with fire as he tried to reassure himself and his ally.
You didn’t understand why wouldn’t he tell you, that's what being best friends meant right? Keeping secrets from each other was beneath the both of you or so you thought.
“So stop worrying, look how easy it was for you to win their trust and get into their school,” The woman exclaimed, convincing him that everything was going according to plan.
Eyes widening and having heard enough, you scrambled to your feet making a bit more noise than you intended to do whilst trying to escape being unnoticed. Gaining both the attention of him and the woman, you continued to sprint for your life back to the academy.
“Y/N?” Michael whispered, sighing once he saw your fleeing body before returning his gaze to Ms Mead.
“I’ll take care of her,” He muttered, reassuring her before taking off after you.
By the time you had returned to the academy, everyone was asleep but the thoughts racing in your head prevented you having some piece of mind.
You knew Michael had seen you, it was only a matter of time before he came to talk to you. Sensing his presence, you stood up refusing to make eye contact with him.
“Y/N, what you heard, I was going to tell you eventually-,” He scratched his head, awkwardly smiling hoping that you would understand.
“Stop it, You can’t do this.” You warned, paralyzed in the spot you were in. Your brain was screaming at you to leave but your body stayed put.
“We could be together, rule together,” He explained, furrowing his brows as your reaction astounded him, he was not expecting this from you.
He was being naive again, it was one of his many faults.
“You don’t understand Michael!” You shouted, the sudden outburst making him take a step back unaware of your assertive side. You had never raised your voice at him once in the time you knew each other.
“I’m not betraying my whole entire coven, my friends and family just for you.” Your chest heaved, head dizzying as you tried to calm yourself down so you could suppress the oncoming panic attack, your hands were already shaking and sweaty.
To him, those words felt like poison on his tongue, he almost flinched before reciprocating with an even more heartbreaking sentiment.
“Am I not worth it?” He seethed snarling in your direction, unclenching his fist as he didn’t want to hurt you, trying to control his bubbling anger.
“Because I’m sick and fucking tired of being told I am nothing, you don’t understand how hard it is with everyone underestimating me and having to deal with the constant abandonment of people I care about,” He raised his voice as almost as if he was scolding you gesturing with his hands almost violently.
“In the end, they always leave,” He bitterly stated, his icy blue eyes softening as he left you completely and utterly speechless.
You tilted your head feeling pity- or was it sympathy for him? Half of your mind was fighting against all the reasons you should stay and the other half was creating new outcomes for the same deadly choices.
“I’m sorry, but I have to let you go, that is my final decision.” You shakily exhaled, backing away slowly from him your gaze focused elsewhere as you didn’t want to see his reaction to your rejection.
“But I love you,” He pleaded as if he could use it as an excuse for all the wrongdoings he was going to commit.
Clasping your hand over your mouth, you couldn’t help but let out a cry allowing the pent-up overwhelming feelings wash over you. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks as he pulled you into his chest allowing you to use him as comfort.
“Why must you do this to me?,” You questioned, banging your fist against his chest until finally pushing him away from you almost disgustedly.
“You’re the antichrist, you’re incapable of love,” You regretted the words that came out of your mouth, but nothing could take them back it didn’t take you long to connect the dots.
“How do you know that?” He inquired, resting his hands by his side as he clenched his jaw looking down almost in shame.
He had been acting up for months, being secretive as well as muttering Latin words during the night that once you wrote down realised were satanic ritual spells.
“This is just another manipulation tactic,” You mumbled on, trying to believe in the words you were saying.
“No, Y/N you can’t possibly believe that,” He argued, his chin trembled not wanting to take another step or he believed it would scare you off.
“You want to take over the world, exterminate society and every single living human or supernatural being with a family who is worthy of being loved just like you were,” You hissed, any hint of remorse for him disappearing in the snap of your fingers.
“Were?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly he was looking even more broken with every word you uttered.
“Don’t make this any harder for me,” You exhaled, refusing to wipe the remnants of the tears off your cheeks while you stared blankly at him.
“Even if I did take you with me, you don’t deserve to live,” He laughed almost psychotically, striding towards you his eyes flickered black his demeanour had changed in less than a second.
He reached out, clasping his palm around your throat he began to put immense pressure on it lifting your body weight in the process you dangled from above, struggling to breathe as you fought against his grip, letting out choked cries.
“M-Michael, please you don’t need to do this,” You forced out, he was cutting off the circulation around your body.
“Oh but I do I’m the anti-christ remember darling? That’s exactly what you called me am I not correct?” He asked, leaning his face closer to you so you could feel his breath.
“You’re not the Michael I used to know-,” You cried out, barely holding onto conscientious he finally released you, your body collapsing like a house of cards on the floor head lolling back as you tried to stay awake.
Bringing your hand up to feel your throat, you whimpered the last thing you saw was his face but instead it was pasty white, cracked and unhuman like. A face of a demon.
#ahs#michael langdon#michael langdon smut#michael langdon imagine#michael langdon x reader#michael langdon x fem!reader#ahs murder house#ahs apocalypse#ahs coven#ahs season 8#ahs season 3#cody fern#tate langdon#tate langdon imagine#tate langdon smut#michael ahs#ahs hotel#ahs8#ahs spoilers#michael langdon fluff#ahs fanfiction#michael langdon fanfiction#evan peters#evan peters smut#evan peters imagine#madison montgomery#cordelia goode#zoe benson#kyle spencer
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I was not-tagged in a thing by @cargopantsman . You’re supposed to answer the following questions and then tag 25 people, including the person who tagged you.
Last...
Beverage: a black tea flavored w/cardamom and vanilla, it's really fucking amazing Phone call: another wrong number call for the guy I keep getting wrong number calls for (this time I learned that it is only the last digit that makes our numbers different) Text message: I don't remember and my phone isn't within reach Song you listened to: Sing Me to Sleep by Alan Walker, I mean it's currently playing if that counts Time you cried: like, sobbed cried, or got a little teared up cried?... you know, I actually can't remember, but the latter happens probably at least once a week and the former is really infrequent but maybe back in January?
Have you ever...
Dated someone twice: does that mean "went on two dates with" because yeah, or "dated someone, broke it off, then dated them again" because no Kissed someone and regretted it: yup Lost someone special: yup Been depressed: yup Been drunk and threw up: . . . maybe? maybe not?
Last year, have you...
Made a new friend: hmm possibly Fallen out of love: yah Laughed until you cried: once! I'd recently experience some Stresses and then I was reading something extremely funny and laughing a lot and then suddenly: sobbing Found out who your true friends are: I mean I guess? Although possibly not in the way that whoever wrote this meant? Found out someone was talking about you: Often! Usually it's totally benign but I'm always a little taken aback when someone says "so we were talking about you and."
General
How many people on your fb friends list do you know in real life?: most of them List 3 favorite colors: green, magenta, that dark shade of green that distant pines and other evergreens are
Firsts
First surgery: wisdom teeth removal First piercing: ear lobes First best friend: a girl I was in grade school with who was also on the same bus route First sport you joined: basketball in, I think, 5th grade First vacation: I'm going with "first I can recall" and it's -probably- to Minnesota, from Oregon, with my parents, to visit my mom's family First pair of trainers: uhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm sure, there were some, were they Puma or Nike or, I don't know? who knows
Right now
Eating: nothing Drinking: as above I’m about to: finish then and then scroll Tumblr some more
Your future
Want kids: yes. no. Get married: MmmmmMMMmmmmmmmmhmmmmmm per.......haps Career: no, absolutely not, unless someday I look back and realize it has already happened, but there will be no more Plans
Which is better
"Better"? Better for WHAT! Looking at? Doing . . . things . . . with?
Lips or eyes: eyes Hugs or kisses: hugs Shorter or taller: IDK, most partner-type people have been taller than me, so my basis for comparison is lacking Older or younger: by how -much- is the key here I think Romantic or spontaneous: errrrrr gonna have to go with romantic but just by a bit, but really either as long as it isn't too much in either direction Nice stomach or nice arms: better for WHAT - I - I don't think I understand the assignment, at all Sensitive or loud: what. Hook-up or relationship: sometimes one, sometimes the other Trouble maker or hesitant: I cannot answer this, there are too many variables
Have you ever...
Kissed a stranger: hmm . . . hmm. depends on how you define "stranger" I mean I think there had been some introductions Drank hard liquor: yeah Lost glasses/contacts: yeah, pretty sure there's been a lost-and-never-found contact lens or two over the years Sex on first date: nope Broke someone’s heart: yep Been arrested: nope Turned someone down: yup Cried when someone died: yeah
Do you believe in...
Yourself: I am here. Miracles: I mean, divine intervention? Yes. Love at first sight: yes Heaven: hmm, um, yeah, sure, whole pile of various afterlives out there, yeah? Santa Claus: no Kiss on the first date: I mean, maybe? I'm not opposed Angels: aha. ha. I wouldn't call it "belief" but sure.
Tags: to quote the person whomst not-tagged me: 25 is a lot... gonna pull the cheap trick of “Anyone that sees this from me can do it and tag me as your source so I can read it later.”
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The year was 2010. Emo was just starting to die out (long live the scene). I was studying to become a secondary school teacher, and Katy Perry was shooting whipped cream out of her boobs...
Second albums, more often than not, fail to live up to the hype. And yet, Teenage Dream has somehow endured.
While Perry’s 2008 debut, One of the Boys, launched her into the mainstream, it really hasn’t aged all that well. On tracks like ‘Self Inflicted’ and ‘Fingerprints,’ she tries way too hard to emulate Paramore’s bold pop punk. On others, she attempts to rebel against her gospel roots by turning the bawdiness up to 10.
It can also come off pretty juvenile at times. The singer was almost 25 when she sang on the title track: ‘So over the summer, something changed/I started reading Seventeen and shaving my legs/And I studied Lolita religiously/And I walked right in to school and caught you staring at me.’
But let’s be honest: Even though it’s been declared ~problematic~, you still jam out to ‘I Kissed A Girl’ when you hear it, don’t you? I hadn’t listened to ‘Ur So Gay’ before this, either, but its slinky, jazz-infused vibe absolutely slaps.
Like Teenage Dream is also a product of its time, presenting pop at its most sugary, hook-laden and bombastic. It managed to spawn 5 No.1 singles, the second album in history to do so after Michael Jackson’s Bad, as well as a documentary, Part of Me. There’s even a deluxe edition, cleverly titled The Complete Confection. It was Perry at her peak.
You know the title track, of course. Evoking images of cherry red lipstick, tight denim and driving down an empty highway in summer, Perry desperately clings to the memory of young love, breathlessly pleading ‘don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back.’
‘The One That Got Away,’ meanwhile, is its bittersweet sequel, Perry's lovesick nostalgia now tinged with regret. Yet, the only thing I really remember about the song is the video starring Cassian Andor himself, Diego Luna, as Perry’s past love, the beautifully dishevelled and tortured artist of my dreams (Dear God, that penetrating stare...) He’s also the only reason why anyone bothered to watch Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, if it wasn’t already obvious.
First single ‘California Gurls,’ on the other hand, is pure pop exuberance at its most campy and carefree, indicative of a more innocent time when it wasn’t driven by algorithms or social media. ‘Firework’ is still a go-to empowerment anthem for just about every kind of montage imaginable. ‘ET’ (featuring a pre-’presidential’ Kanye) is heavily-synthesised cyber pop that doesn’t get nearly enough love.
But Teenage Dream, in retrospect, has quite a few misses. ‘Peacock’ is just one big, long, glitchy dick joke. ‘Not Like The Movies’ is big ballad schmaltz. The brassy soft rock of ‘Hummingbird Heartbeat,’ meanwhile, opens with a hell of a line: ‘You make me feel like I'm losing my virginity/The first time, every time when you're touching me.’ And I’m pretty sure ‘What Am I Living For?’ is partly plagiarised from Justin Timberlake’s ‘My Love.’ Even Pitchfork awarded Teenage Dream a rather tame 6.8 in their recent retrospective review.
By the time Perry released Prism in 2013 – her ‘darker, moodier’ record - she had shifted further into ‘inspirational anthems.’ There was the inescapable mega-hit ‘Roar,’ the saccharine power ballad ‘Unconditionally’ and the Eastern-tinged ‘Legendary Lovers,’ complete with wellness and spiritual motifs.
But it wasn’t without its bangers: ‘Dark Horse’ (featuring Juicy J) jumped onto the trap pop bandwagon just in time with its subterranean bass and eerie, otherworldly synths. Even the slick, 90s-indebted ‘This Is How We Do’ has a certain charm.
Prism also marked the point where Perry’s invincibility began to wear off. Where the masses once lapped up her candy-coated antics, they were now calling her out for wearing braids in the video for ‘This Is How We Do’ and dressing up as a geisha during a performance at the American Music Awards.
And they would only get louder during her era of ‘purposeful pop.’ Released in the aftermath of the 2016 US election, Witness was meant to cement Perry as ‘Artist. Activist. Conscious’ - as her Twitter bio read at the time. She had joined Hillary Clinton on the campaign trail. On Instagram, she was quoting the likes of Socrates and Plato. She was Woke now, and she was telling anyone who’d listen.
Yet you’d be hard pressed to find much trace of this ‘purposeful pop’ on Witness, bar the first single, ‘Chained to the Rhythm.’ Written with Sia and Max Martin, the singer implores listeners to ‘put your rose-coloured glasses on and party on’ amid whirling, colourful synths.
The rest of the record, however, is made up of either soppy, overly sentimental ballads (‘Save As Draft,’ ‘Pendulum,’ ‘Into Me You See’), awkward lyrical turns and CHVRCHES/Purity Ring knock-offs (‘Hey Hey Hey,’ ‘Roulette,’ ‘Deja Vu’).
Funnily enough, Purity Ring’s Corin Roddick produced some of Witness’ better tracks: ‘Mind Maze’ and the soaring ballad ‘Miss You More, along with ‘Bigger Than Me.’
Final track ‘Act My Age,’ meanwhile, feels like a pre-emptive strike against the criticism Witness would inevitably receive (‘They say that I might lose my Midas touch/They also say I may become irrelevant/But who the fuck are they anyway?’).
Then there’s the godawful ‘Bon Appetit’ (featuring Migos) with its food-related double entendres. It was ‘Yummy’ before ‘Yummy’ existed. Seriously, I just wanna see Orlando Bloom say he likes this song with a straight face...
But I will still defend ‘Swish Swish’ to the death. Do the lyrics suck? Yeah, but Perry’s never been the strongest lyricist. But its pulsing 90s house beat does a lot of the heavy lifting, along with Nicki Minaj’s spitfire verse.
The promotional rollout for Witness, meanwhile, proved just as messy. Among the most infamous was a 72-hour livestream, where voyeurs got to witness Perry sleep, meditate, do yoga and welcome a random assortment of guests, including Gordon Ramsey and activist DeRay McKesson. Then there was the meme-laden video for ‘Swish Swish. She literally served herself up on a platter in the clip for ‘Bon Appetit.’ She tried reigniting her feud with Taylor Swift on James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke. Needless to say, it reeked of desperation.
Looking back, though, you can’t help but feel a little bad for Perry, trying so hard to please only for it to blow up spectacularly in her face. So devastated, it sent her to the Hoffman Institute, which offers an abridged version of therapy. As she later told the Guardian:
‘I think the universe was like, ‘OK, all right, let’s have some humble pie here […] My negative thoughts were not great. They didn’t want to plan for a future. I also felt like I could control it by saying, ‘I’ll have the last word if I hurt myself or do something stupid and I’ll show you’ — but really, who was I showing?’
But although Witness lacked the perkiness of Teenage Dream or the cartoonish charm of One of the Boys, it shines best on its darker moments.
‘Dance With The Devil’ has the kind of smoky allure that wouldn’t look too out of place on a BANKS album, while ‘Power’ is a revelation. Produced by Jack Garrett, what could’ve been yet another dull empowerment ballad is turned into a gritty, groaning slab of vaporwave pop, with sultry sax riffs that sample, of all things, Smokey Robinson’s ‘Being With You.’ It’s electric as fuck. You believe it when Perry sings: ‘’Cause I'm a goddess and you know it/Some respect, you better show it/I'm done with you siphoning my power.’
If the singer had just done away with the whole ‘purposeful pop’ concept and stuck with Garrett, Roddick and Terror Jr’s Felix Snow as her core producing group, Witness probably wouldn’t have been half the failure it was. It could’ve had a chance to grow on people, the kind of slow burn Perry could’ve gotten away with at this point in her career. The cyberpop dystopian feel also could’ve gone hand in hand with her newfound wokeness, echoing people’s fear and anger in the aftermath of Trump’s win. But alas, we’ll never know...
While the rollout for Witness over the top, Smile’s was lacklustre and wildly inconsistent.
First single ‘Never Really Over’ came out a whole 15 months before the release of Smile to little fanfare, along with a hippie-inspired video to match. ‘Harleys in Hawaii’ later followed, which also stuck with the flower power aesthetic. Other singles - ‘Daisies’ and the title track – seemingly came and went without a trace.
So how did Katy Perry get to this point? And is there any chance of coming back?
It’s hard to say. A lot of artists go through a rough patch or two: Miley's twerking antics divided audiences when she released 2013’s Bangerz. Taylor Swift’s reputation divided audiences. Only in recent years has Lady Gaga’s ARTPOP been vindicated. Such is the nature of music and pop culture in general. It’s fickle, just one vicious cycle after another; an endless quest for trend-bait that'll never end.
Right now, disco pop is going through a renaissance, while hyperpop reigns supreme. Dua Lip and Charli XCX are basically untouchable at the moment. TikTok has taken over from Top 40 radio when it comes to breaking hits, while the gap between album releases has also grown shorter and shorter. Even the nature of fandom has changed, shifting from old-school elitism to the bloodsport that is ‘stanning,’ along with an unhealthy amount of ‘endless simping’ (to quote a close friend of mine).
Perry, meanwhile, has failed to keep up, choosing to play it safe in order to avoid further scrutiny. But in doing so, she strips away the humour, the mischief and other idiosyncrasies that fans fell in love with in the first place.
But what choice did she have? As Junkee’s Sam Murphy notes in his own piece about Perry’s rise and fall:
‘At that point, you have two choices as a popstar — hunt for relevancy or make what comes naturally to you. Perry chose the former and came unstuck. She inserted vague wokeness into her songs as cancel culture infiltrated pop, tacked on rap features as hip-hop became the dominant commercial genre, and worked with producers who may have been able to find her credibility.’
(Full disclosure: I started writing my piece on Perry back in December 2020, so the timing of Murphy’s piece and mine is purely coincidental).
Even if you don’t believe in cancel culture, no one actually wants to be cancelled. It’s just not good for PR, especially for someone with an image as glossy and as carefully put-together as Perry’s. Even now, she continues to atone for Witness, telling the LA Times: ‘Having more awareness and consciousness, I no longer can just be a blissful, ignorant idealist who sings about love and relationships […] Even my travels have afforded me a new perspective on cultures, class systems and the inequality around the world, not just in the United States,’ though she carefully avoids the subject of politics on Smile.
But redemption is possible. Swift – Perry's one-time nemesis - was a total pariah back in 2016, mocked for her Girl Squad, for diddling the Hiddles while on the rebound from Calvin Harris and criticised for remaining coy on her political leanings. Now she’s earning indie cred with two of 2020’s biggest albums, folklore and evermore, and has thrown her support behind a number of social causes.
The devil works hard, but Swift’s PR team work harder. I might not be her biggest fan, but Taylor works Kris Jenner levels of mastery when it comes to rebuilding public sentiment. Thanks to her newfound indie cred, you’ve almost forgotten about the pastel atrocity ‘Me!,’ her 2019 duet with that insufferable drama kid cliché, Brendon Urie. Shifting her songs away from petty grievances to more original storytelling was also a smart move.
But while Swift has managed to move on, Perry seems to have fallen into the same adult contemporary trap as Gwen Stefani, Kelly Clarkson, Christina Aguilera and Pink, one that ensnares many female artists over 30 (Though many have also managed to escape – Gaga, Taylor, Beyonce, Rihanna, Kesha, Robyn...)
As ‘woke’ as the industry and fans at large might think themselves to be, they’re still pretty ageist. There's still an expectation to ‘mature’ your sound as you age, to become more ‘serious.’ No more fun, no more experimenting, boomer. But when you do end up filing away the edges, you’re called dull, generic and past your prime. Perry said as much on the aforementioned ‘Act My Age. You just. can't. win.
And yet, many female artists over 30 have created some of their best work yet in just the past year or so: Hayley Williams made the dramatic shift from pop rock to low-key, Radiohead-inspired tunes on her solo debut, Petals For Armor. Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters was hailed by critics as her most bold, urgent and visceral. Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? was a cut of understated disco pop elegance. Carly Rae Jepsen, meanwhile, released an equally stellar companion to 2019’s Dedicated.
At this point in her career, Perry could afford to follow a similar path to that of the Canadian singer. Once the meme value of ‘Call Me Maybe’ wore off, along with her mainstream appeal, Jepsen finally had a chance to discover real creative freedom, pushing her sound to greater heights and earning critical acclaim, all without having to compromise her love for catchy hooks and bold synth pop arrangements.
A couple of years ago, a Reddit user made a post about participating in a focus group held by Perry’s label to discuss why she’s ‘no longer one of the[ir] most notable female pop artists,’ and ‘what can [they] do with her image or marketing to make you care about her again?’
It’s depressing to think that an artist as accomplished as her needs a focus group to help solve her identity crisis. There really is no easy answer. Hopefully, Perry will be able to return more vibrant and assured than ever, on her own terms...
-Bianca B.
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For the fic related requests, the first thing that came to my mind was Oikawa making Iwaizumi watch one of his k-dramas. Those two watching Makki and Mattsun was one of my fave bits of the fic :) I'd also love to know what makes Iwa call Makki and Mattsun super romantic! I'm also super curious about Oikawa and Semi in the past and also the idea of Semi trying to train Goshiki really tickles me.. I'm going to stop now.. suffice to say I loved WYCF and look forward to anything extra!
Thanks so much for the ask! I think I’ve covered everything. They’re all below, in no particular order. I had to do a cut because I wrote you several essays.
Semifrowned down at the drink in his hand. He already felt the threads of hispatience unraveling. “Tsutomu?”
“Yes!”
“What drink did I ask for?”
“A tequila sunrise!”
Semi cut his eyes up to Goshiki, wholooked as if he was holding his breath as he awaited Semi’s response. “What isthis?”
Goshiki looked at the drink and thenback up at Semi. “It’s a… a tequila sunrise?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Goshiki’s face fell. “I don’t know?” Semi closed his eyes and tooka breath.
He still wasn’t sure why Ushijimahad thought it was a good idea for him to train Goshiki. His temper was notsuited for this. “What kind of liquor is in this, Tsutomu?”
“Vodka?”
“It’s a tequila sunrise,” snappedSemi. He put the drink down on the bar a little too hard; a bit of alcoholsloshed over. “Tequila. Why would youput vodka in a tequila sunrise?”
Goshiki flinched back and stutteredover himself. “I-I am sorry, Semi-san! I didn’t mean to! I thought… Okay,tequila, okay. Please let me try it again! I promise I can do it! I am sorry!”
“Stop yelling,” said Semi. The drinkhad spilled over onto his fingers and he wiped them on the leg of his pants.“It’s fine. You’ve only been doing this for a week. It’s okay to makemistakes.”
Even if those mistakes were thedumbest ones Semi had ever seen.
He took another breath and tried tocalm himself even more. He couldn’t lose his temper on Goshiki. He didn’t thinkthe kid would ever recover.
“I’m sorry,” said Goshiki again. Helowered his voice only slightly.
“Just go read through the studyguide I made you,” said Semi. “We open in less than an hour. It’s Friday, soit’s going to be too busy for me to do everything myself. I’m going to needyou, Tsutomu.”
Goshiki lit up like a Christmas treeand returned to full volume. “Yes! You can count on me, Semi-san!” He turned onhis heel so quickly that he nearly stumbled and rushed off toward the back ofthe building.
Semi propped his elbows on the bar,hid his face in his hands, and breathed a sigh of exasperation.
Footsteps approached, and longfingers danced lightly up the length of Semi’s spine.
Semi didn’t flinch. “What?”
“Look at you, raising up ourprecious baby bird,” cooed Tendou. His fingers went higher, threading gentlyinto Semi’s hair. “He’ll be ready to leave the nest any time now.”
“If I don’t end up killing himfirst.”
“Now, now,” said Tendou, the grinevident in his voice. “You know you like Tsutomu. It’s impossible not to likehim.”
“I like him alright,” said Semi.“It’s just having to deal with him that’s the problem.”
Tendou’s hand fell away. He leanedback against the bar. “You’re doing fine. He’ll be slinging drinks like aprofessional in no time.”
Semi dropped his arms and stood straight,frowning up at Tendou. “Some people are unteachable. He might be one of them.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“A tequila sunrise,” said Semi,gesturing toward the drink on the bar. There were several other mixed cocktailsscattered about, all of them made improperly. “With vodka.”
Tendou shrugged. “Sounds alright tome.”
“I think our customers won’t agree.”
Tendou reached up to flick a pieceof hair away from Semi’s forehead. “I think you worry too much, Semi-Semi.”
Semi scowled at him.
“Anyway,” said Tendou, “isn’t itbetter to deal with Tsutomu than Shirabu?”
Semi barely held back a twitch.“Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s fine,” said Tendou. He took astep forward, into Semi’s personal space, and grinned down at him. “Besides,you’re the best bartender I know. If anyone can train Tsutomu, it’s you.”
Semi rolled his eyes, but his badattitude weakened as Tendou leaned closer, his breath sweeping across Semi’slips. “You know what Ushijima said about PDA at the club.”
“I don’t see Ushijima,” said Tendou,slipping a hand around Semi’s waist. “Do you?”
Semi’s mouth tugged into a smirk. Hetilted his head back, felt the first brush of Tendou’s lips, and then:
“Semi-san! I have a question!”
Tendou stepped back, and Semi took acleansing breath.
He couldn’t lose his temper. If heyelled at Goshiki, the kid would be crushed.
Goshiki was trying. He couldn’t helpit.
“What, Tsutomu?”
Tendou smiled, more softly thanusual. “You’re doing great, Semi-Semi,” he said quietly, as Goshiki half-joggedtoward them. “I’m so proud.”
Semi rolled his eyes, but couldn’thelp the soft warmth in his cheeks as he turned away to help Goshiki.
Why Iwaizumi thinks Makki and Mattsun are too romantic:
1. Ontheir two-month anniversary, Matsukawa sent roses to Hanamaki while he was onshift. It was a classic bouquet of a dozen red roses, and the card was a simplecollection of XOXOs.
2.They got matching tattoos. When Iwaizumi asked, Hanamaki agreed to show him. Hestarted to push his pants down, and Iwaizumi decided he didn’t want to know,after all.
3.They use disgusting pet names for each other; sweet cake, cherry blossom,sunshine, doll face, sugar lips.
4. Anytime they get coffee, Matsukawa always has the barista draw a little heart inthe foam of Hanamaki’s drink.
5. Onetime, Mattsun was so focused on his phone that he completely ignored everythingIwaizumi was saying. Iwaizumi looked over his shoulder and found a screenful ofhim arguing back and forth with Makki about who loved each other the most.
6.Hanamaki sent Matsukawa identical roses on their three month anniversary, withanother collections of XOXOs.
7. Duringshift change, they leave obnoxious notes for each other on the patrol roombulletin board.
8.Once, Hanamaki left his phone at Iwaizumi’s place. Iwaizumi picked it up tosend Mattsun a text to come get it, and was greeted by a history of sexting thatincluded detailed descriptions of touching each others’ faces and discussinghow beautiful each of them were. Iwaizumi barely stopped himself from throwingthe phone in the garbage.
9.When Oikawa dragged them all to karaoke, Hanamaki serenaded Matsukawa with thesappiest love songs that Iwaizumi had ever heard.
10.Once, Iwaizumi received a picture message from Matsukawa, followed immediatelyby an urgent text of “THAT WAS MEANT FOR MAKKI. DON’T OPEN IT.” Iwaizumiintended to delete it, because he had no interest in seeing Matsukawa’s dick.Oikawa insisted, and they were gifted by a picture of Matsukawa’s bathroommirror, steamed over from a hot shower, little hearts and doodles drawn in thesteam.
((Allof these things are done intentionally because Makki and Mattsun get greatpleasure from Iwaizumi’s reactions.))
Althoughhe didn’t like to admit it, Oikawa knew exactly what Semi was doing.
He’d known for a while; much longerthan he cared to think about. He’d denied it for so long that he’d nearlyconvinced himself it wasn’t happening, but some things were impossible toignore.
Finding a stash of cocaine in hiskitchen cabinet was one of those things.
Oikawa had been quite calm about it,because although he’d been in denial, he’d already known. It wasn’t a surprise.
He’d taken the drugs out of thecabinet, calmly walked into the bathroom, and dumped the powder in the toilet. Aftera single flush, there was no proof that the cocaine had ever existed. He buriedthe bag at the bottom of the garbage can and went about his day as if nothinghad happened.
He was calm about it, but Semicertainly was not.
Semi came home late, which had beenhappening more and more often. Oikawa heard him come in and open therefrigerator. There was beer, but Semi probably didn’t grab one. He had beendrinking less; likely because he’d replaced the need for alcohol with the needfor something else. There was the sound of a cabinet opening, a long pause, andthen the cabinet door slammed shut so loudly that Oikawa winced.
Footsteps stomped closer and Oikawaresumed brushing his teeth, staring blankly at himself in the bathroom mirror.Semi threw the door open as Oikawa spat in the sink, the taste of minttoothpaste clinging to his tongue.
“Welcome home, Semi-chan,” saidOikawa, forcing a smile. It looked out of place on his face, like someone hadjammed a puzzle piece into the wrong place. “How was your day?”
“What the fuck, Tooru?”
“Not so good, then,” said Oikawa. Heleaned close to the mirror and pulled his lips back to check his teeth.
Semi grabbed his shoulder and spunhim around, slapping his hands onto the sink on either side of Oikawa, caginghim in. Semi was a little shorter, but the intensity of his glare made up forthe difference. “What. The. Fuck.”
Oikawa kept his face impassive,though his heart thundered in his chest. “You’re going to have to be morespecific, Semi-chan. You’re not giving me much to work with here.”
“Where is it?”
Oikawa tilted his head. His bloodran hot with panic, but he made himself raise a causal brow. “Where is what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” snarledSemi. “Where the fuck is it?”
Oikawa had only seen Semi like thisa handful of times.
All of them had been in the pastmonth.
“I’m still not certain what youmean,” said Oikawa, “but if you’re talking about the drugs that you draggedinto my apartment without my permission, then consider them gone.”
Semi’s face contorted, scowldeepening, eyes flashing. He pulled back, fists tight at his sides, and for afleeting second Oikawa thought he was going to hit him.
Then Semi turned on his heel andtook a single step away. “This isn’t your apartment,” he snapped. “We livedhere together, Tooru.”
“That doesn’t mean you can stashyour drugs here. I’ve told you I’m not okay with this.”
“And I’ve told you it’s not a bigdeal,” said Semi. He turned back toward Oikawa, and his expression was only alittle tamer. “I’m only selling to make some quick cash. We can barely affordto pay rent. I want us to have nice shit, you know? I want to get a nice place,and a car, and not have to worry about scraping together enough to eat for theweek. Once we’re okay I’ll stop.”
“We’re okay now,” said Oikawa. Hewanted to step closer, but he was a little wary. He cared about Semi, but whenhe got like this, he was a little frightening. “Everything is fine, Eita. I’mhappy the way we are. I don’t need anything else.”
“Well I do,” snapped Semi. “I wantmore. We deserve more, and I’m going to get it for us. I’ll stop soon, okay?”
“Selling it is one thing,” saidOikawa, quietly, “but using it is a different story. You’ve got to stop doingthat now, Eita. It’s messing with you.”
“I’m not using,” said Semi. Thewords were angry, bitter. “I might take a bump every now and then but it’s nota big deal. It’s not like I’m addicted or anything.”
Oikawa should have swallowed hisnext words. “Then why are you so upset that your stash is gone?”
Semi looked up at him, and his glarewas poison. “Because you need to stay out of my shit. It’s not your business,Tooru. Don’t fucking do it again.”
He stormed toward the bathroom door.
“Where are you going?” said Oikawa,following despite himself.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Oikawa stumbled into the living roomjust as Semi slipped back into his shoes. “You’re going to get more, aren’tyou?” said Oikawa. “You can’t stand the thought of going a night without it. Doyou see what you’re doing to yourself, Eita?”
“Fuck you,” snapped Semi. “You don’tknow anything about it.” He slung the door open, but hesitated before hestepped outside. He looked over his shoulder at Oikawa and said, “I’ll be backlater.” He paused, considered, and added, gruffly, “I love you.”
Oikawa felt his heart break in hischest. His throat went tight and the tears pressed at his eyes, but he simplyshook his head and said, “Yeah, sure. I love you, too.”
Then Semi was gone, and Oikawa droppedonto the couch and sobbed.
Oikawa should leave. He knew heshould. Everything between them was wrong lately. The drugs were the problem,and Semi clearly wasn’t going to stop using them anytime soon. It was in hisbest interest to get out before things got worse.
He wiped at his eyes and took ashuddering breath.
He should leave, but he couldn’t.
Oikawa thought about when he and Semihad first started dating, and the way Semi looked at him like he was somethingto be admired. He thought about all the flowers Semi had bought him, which hadbeen dried out and preserved in a wooden box in the wardrobe. He thought aboutthe way Semi had held his hand and smiled at him and kissed him like he was somethingto cherish.
Oikawa should leave, but he caredtoo much about Semi to do it.
Maybe things would get better.
Maybe they would go back to normal.
…and maybe they would only getworse.
It was a good thing Iwaizumi lovedOikawa so much.
If he hadn’t, he was pretty sure hewould’ve hated the moron.
Oikawa gasped much too dramaticallyfor the situation and seized Iwaizumi’s arm in a death grip. “Iwa-chan! Hedidn’t die in the car crash! He came back!”
Iwaizumi looked at him blankly, thenslowly returned his focus to the TV screen.
This drama was the singular mostidiotic thing Iwaizumi had ever seen, and he’d seen a lot of stupid things.
“Of course he came back,” saidIwaizumi. “They all come back. It’s the same characters doing the same thingsover and over again. Don’t you think it’s a little bit predictable?”
“How dare you.”
“I’m just saying, these shitty soapoperas are-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,Iwa-chan.” Oikawa folded his arms with a huff. He tried to scowl, but it lookedmore like a pout. “This is prime entertainment. It’s a masterpiece.”
Iwaizumi fought against an eye rolland barely won. He settled more comfortably into the couch and bumped hisshoulder against Oikawa’s. “Fine. It’s a great show. I love it.”
Oikawa slipped him a sidewaysglance. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not.” He tugged at Oikawa’scrossed arms, freeing one of his hands and fitting their fingers together. “Ifit makes you happy I like it. It’s fine.”
Oikawa’s pout lessened. He squeezedIwaizumi’s hand and again focused on the television. “I wonder how his daughterwill react. She should be happy, but then again, the sex scandal he had beforethe wreck might have pushed her away.”
“Doesn’t really matter,” saidIwaizumi with a shrug. “There’s no way that’s his actual daughter. Her dad isthat guy with the bad haircut. Her mom had a secret affair with him fifteenyears ago.”
Oikawa turned his head slowly, hisface blank. “No, she didn’t.”
“Well they haven’t admitted it yet,but it definitely happened. It’s all in the context. Remember that conversationthey had a few episodes ago? They dropped hints all over the place.”
Oikawa’s mouth fell open. “What thehell, Iwa-chan? You’re spoiling the show!”
“I’m not spoiling it if it’sobvious.”
“It’s not obvious! Get out of myhouse.”
“I live here, too.”
“Getout of my house.”
Iwaizumi snorted and wrapped an armaround Oikawa’s shoulders. Oikawa resisted the embrace, but the struggle washalfhearted. He sank into Iwaizumi’s side with a huff.
“I hate you, Iwa-chan.”
“Love you too, Tooru.”
#ask#wycf#writing#janespendlove#iwaoi#matsuhana#tensemi#oisemi?#or maybe semioi#idk what to call them
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