#and i don’t think he knew half the authors they had to study lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

Text

playing pretend

a/n: hello hello hello! i have a prompt fill for this Dark!Stephen AU from @ironstrangeprompts and im just gonna post it before i can start second guessing my writing lmao

tw: mentions of torture, injury, implied past abuse

Prompt: Dark!Stephen AU. The avengers never really notice Stephen’s pacifist to-a-fault superheroing style until one day a magical incident corrupts him/magical entity possesses him. They’re treated to a completely unhinged and lethal Stephen, the avengers realize just how much Stephen was holding back, what with his quick work dispatching all of them, resulting in very heavy injuries. However, he takes special interest with Tony Stark, whom he has been dating for a few months now. He has Tony all strung up in the middle of the battlefield in front of the other broken and beaten avengers, he taunts and tortures him. “Being a doctor and a sorcerer is so very useful, I can break you in very precise manners, put you back together and then do it again.” When he gets bored of Tony’s screams and decides to end him permanently, Stephen suddenly snaps back to normal. The real Stephen has been battling internally to gain back control, knowing that he’s about to kill the love of his life gives him the final push to break free. He portals them all to safety and to receive medical help. Cue heavy angst and Stephen trying to make it up to them but especially Tony, who insists that everything is fine and that he knows it wasn’t the real Stephen. However they both know that Tony is just putting up a brave front and is undoubtedly traumatized by the incident. Up to the author on if they want to end it in a bleak or hopeful tone.

It took Tony a few minutes to register his surroundings when he woke up. He wasn’t lying in a makeshift coffin of bent metal, broken bones, and the ruins of the building. The familiar baritone, the melody of his waking world, wasn’t hollow and cruelly taunting him. Stephen sounded like himself, soothing and loving and reassuring but worried and tired all the same. Tony heard guilt in his partner’s voice, delineating his dream, his memory, from the present. He wanted to follow that voice, the real Stephen’s voice, and leave the past behind them. Guilt was eating away at Stephen as he tried to calm Tony down and wake him up. He defaulted to the standard promises and phrases when Tony had nightmares, but this time was different. This time Stephen was the cause of the nightmare, and he knew it. No matter how much Tony said it wasn’t his fault, that everything was okay, Stephen knew he had to repair the pieces of Tony’s trust he’d obliterated.

Tony thrashed again in his sleep, feebly kicking the air in front of him just like he did on the battlefield. “Stop!”

“Sweetheart,” Stephen began, unsure of what to say. “Tony, wake up. You’re safe, no one will hurt you.”

“Stephen!” Tony groaned and thrashed again, his eyes still shut as he fought to wake up. “This isn’t you… don’t do this.”

Stephen barely held back tears as he spoke again. “It’s over Tony, I’m back. I’m me again. I won’t hurt you, I promise I’ll never hurt you as long as I live.”

Tony was shaking when he finally woke up, unsure if he was even breathing. He opened his eyes hastily, studying the look on Stephen’s face. Stephen looked concerned, even worried, but unsure of himself as he murmured soothing nonsense to Tony.

“Breathe, Tones,” Stephen said. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay, I promise. Just breathe, we’re alright. I’ll leave you be once I’m sure you’re okay, and—”

Tony wrapped his arms around Stephen and hugged him tightly. “Don’t you dare. Don’t go… please don’t go Stephen.”

“I can’t risk scaring you again Tony. I’ve already hurt you enough, it’s not fair to keep putting you through this,” Stephen argued, fighting his urge to hug Tony back.

Tony only held on tighter, determined not to let Stephen leave.

Stephen still wanted to disappear, but he quickly understood that Tony wouldn’t let him go that easily. The mechanic was still shivering and trembling, slowly starting to calm down as Stephen hesitantly hugged him back.

++++

They both woke up at the same time, almost four days later. Stephen woke up slowly, feeling like he was underwater or in a fog, while Tony started awake across town.

It was pitch dark in the room, the heavy curtains drawn shut to keep out any intrusive light. It was the middle of the day, judging by the clock Stephen kept on his nightstand, but he couldn’t feel the sun on his face, or see any light from his window. He was bathing in pitch black. At first, he thought he was dead, doomed to an eternity in darkness, when something red bloomed and came to life beside him. Even now, his Cloak was always dramatic, comforting as it covered him like a blanket.

As his eyes adjusted, Stephen registered Wong and Christine on the other side of the room, just studying him.

Christine was the first to meet his stare, rushing to his bedside. “How do you feel?”

Stephen grimaced in pain as he shrugged. “Not great, thanks.” There was something else on his mind, but he was too afraid to ask. He was almost too scared to hear the answer.

Luckily, Wong spoke up before Stephen could ask. “You slept for three and a half days, Strange. How much do you remember?”

“Something attacked the Compound… I think it was me,” he mumbled.

“Not exactly,” Wong began, gentler than Stephen had ever heard him.

“Possessed or not, I still attacked!” Stephen sat up, paying the price as he rose quicker than his body could handle. “It doesn’t matter if I saved everyone, not if I almost killed them first.”

Neither Wong nor Christine spoke, and the cloak simply wrapped tighter around Stephen’s shoulders.

“You did save everyone,” Wong said finally. “And you banished whatever entity possessed you. We still haven’t figured out what it is, but…”

Wong’s voice trailed off as Stephen stopped listening. His head started to hurt as he remembered, in searing detail, more of what happened and what caused him to snap out of the state he was in.

Tony was near silent, his voice failing him after hours of tortured screams. Somewhere, somehow, Stephen knew that he was the one hurting him, the one causing Tony so much pain even though he promised never to hurt the hero. He wanted to stop, to end all of the carnage he’d brought to the Compound, to his friends who were starting to feel like family, to Tony… but he couldn’t. The hand controlling his impulsive strings was strong and steady, and it wouldn’t rest until Stephen finished its bidding.

His movements were mechanical as he strode, like the marionette he’d become, to stand in front of Tony.

And Tony just looked at him with a defeated, almost calm look on his face.

Stephen’s voice sounded distorted when he spoke, preening with a twisted smile as he bent to look upon the man of iron. “Accepted your fate?”

“You won’t be the first person I’ve loved who’s hurt me,” Tony said, between pained breaths. “There’s nothing to say.”

Stephen tried to back up, to keep himself still, but he couldn’t fight the influence of his controller and struck Tony again. “Arrogance is unbecoming.”

Tony inhaled again, deeper and more pained this time but somehow even calmer. “Go ahead and finish the job. I won’t hold it against you, Stephen.”

Stephen was hyperventilating when he heard Wong’s voice again, pressed against the headboard of his bed like he was backed into a corner.

Christine approached him tentatively, resting her hand on one of his shoulders.

Stephen recoiled away from the touch and curled up on himself like a turtle retreating in its shell. He ducked his head under a pillow, shaking in fear and pain from moving too quickly. “Did I… did I kill him? I remember everything until I was about to… please tell me I—”

“You didn’t.” Christine cut him off, hoping to keep her friend from spiraling further. “Wong said you saved everyone, and that includes Tony.”

Stephen sobbed just hearing his partner’s name. Guilt wracked his entire body as he cried harder and harder, his magic running through his veins. Was he not this exhausted, he’d probably set fire to something from his high levels of stress and fear, but all he could do was cry until he fell into painful sleep.

++++

He didn’t finish it.

He didn’t listen.

Tony remembered the horrified look he saw on Stephen’s face, the remorse in his eyes as he sent a vaguely corporeal figure of dark energy through a portal.

Tony remembered the way Stephen apologized again and again as his eyes started closing, overwhelmed by the pain seizing his mind and body. A part of him hoped that Stephen had listened, that maybe the last thing he’d see in this life would be the face he’d come to absolutely adore…

… But he’d woken up sometime later in the MedBay, wanting to see Stephen more than anything. In spite of everything that’d just happened, or maybe because of everything that’d just happened, all Tony really wanted was to go back to sleep, preferably in his partner’s embrace. That really didn’t seem like too much to ask for.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Stark?”

Tony almost didn’t notice Peter pacing around on the ceiling, in fact he didn’t know his pseudo son was even in the room until he suddenly landed a few feet away. “I feel great, Kid. Definitely not like I took a ton of bricks to the face.” He didn’t remember the gory details of the fight, so Tony couldn’t say whether or not he was being literal.

“Welcome back, Boss,” FRIDAY said, a hint of worry in her voice. “And good morning. It’s currently half nine on Tuesday. I’ve been asked to inform you that Col. Rhodes has returned from Washington and has volunteered to lead all reconstruction projects for the Compound. He’s also asked me to keep you updated and will be coming to see you this afternoon.”

Tony sighed. “Thank you. Wait… that means Rhodey came back early?”

“He did,” FRIDAY replied simply. Her voice sounded like what a nod looked like as she continued. “Would you like me to tell him that you asked about him?”

“Sure, but don’t bother him. He doesn’t have to rush to see me,” Tony replied, knowing that Rhodey would probably come anyway. He was maybe the one exception to what Tony had told Stephen earlier, before…

“Col. Rhodes will be here within the hour,” FRIDAY announced.

“Thanks Fri.”

Peter, who had started pacing on the ceiling again, asked what Tony had been wondering since he woke up. “Where’s the Doc?”

“I dunno, Pete. I’ve been wondering that myself,” Tony admitted. “Fri, you wouldn’t happen to know… would you?”

“As far as I can tell, Doctor Strange returned to the Sanctum following the… altercation… on Thursday,” the AI reported.

“What? Altercation? What happened?” Peter landed on the floor again, looking more worried than Tony thought he deserved to.

“There was just a small wizarding mishap, don’t worry about it,” Tony said. He shrugged, trying to reassure Peter as much as he could. “Not even an emergency, Underoos. We would’ve called for you if it was.”

Tony also didn’t want Peter to see what happened. Maybe he was sheltering the kid, but he didn’t want Peter to ever find out about the attack on the Compound. It was bad enough that the team, even in their varied states of consciousness, saw what they did. They saw the fear in Tony’s eyes, saw him slowly surrender to Stephen’s ruthless attacks until he just stopped trying to fight the sorcerer. Tony knew he couldn’t parry these magical attacks, couldn’t break the spelled restraints… but he didn’t want Peter to see how easily he’d given up.

If Peter had more to say, he simply chose not to ask about it. Instead he just shrugged. “Glad you’re okay, Mr. Stark. May heard from Pepper that you got hurt, so I wanted to swing by… no pun intended.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that calling me ‘Tony’ is fine?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes warmly. “I’m fine, Pete. Not up for working in the lab today, I’m afraid, but—”

“That’s okay! My suit isn’t going anywhere, we can upgrade anytime,” Peter replied. “I promised May I’d be home for movie night, but I just wanted to come see you.”

Tony smiled softly. “You’re a good kid, Son. Get home safe, and I’ll give you a call when I’m back in working condition.”

“Thanks IronDad!” Peter was gone in a second, leaving Tony in the quiet with his thoughts.

“Fri?” He asked after a few minutes.

“Still here, Boss.”

“Will you… will you tell Stephen I want to see him?” Tony asked.

Maybe he was the spoiled brat everyone believed, or maybe he was exhausted and touch starved and showing signs of an addictive personality. Tony didn’t know, he didn’t care, and he just wanted his sorcerer back.

“I’ll let him know,” FRIDAY replied, softer than normal.

++++

“Stephen, it’s been days. Days since the attack, days since you holed yourself up in my library like you’re going into hibernation—”

“Good morning to you too, Wong.”

Wong may have laughed at Stephen’s attitude if he didn’t feel so bad for him. Stephen was completely out of it, so much so that he didn’t even realize how late in the day it was. “It’s almost eight, Strange.”

Stephen just sighed. “Did you need something from me?”

“Stark is asking for you again. I think you should see him.”

“You said that yesterday,” Stephen muttered.

“I’m saying it again now. I know you, Stephen, I can read you like any book in here.” Wong began. “You’re trying to outrun your guilt but you know it’s not that easy. Ignoring Tony isn’t going to make things go away, and it’s not going to make either of you feel better. He misses you, and I know you miss him too.”

“I don’t know how I can even look at him after what I did… he trusted me,” Stephen whispered, looking down at his lap. “I broke his trust.”

“Not willingly, and he knows that,” Wong reminded him. “It wasn’t you, Stephen.”

Stephen ignored him, beginning to tremble as he thought back to what Tony had said to him. “He told me he wouldn’t hold it against me… that I wasn’t the first of his loved ones to hurt him. I don’t know what I could do or say to prove to him, let alone to the team, that I’d never hurt them again.”

“Hiding away in here isn’t helping to prove that,” Wong said.

“You just want your chair by the window back,” Stephen accused him.

“Of course I do! But I also care about you and your happiness. If you need anyone to vouch for you, I’ll be here,” Wong replied.

“That sounds like you’ve made up my mind for me.”

“I have. Go now, before it gets too late.”

Stephen opened a portal to the tower, just outside of the lab. “I doubt Tony would be asleep, he’s always awake.”

His suspicions were confirmed as he closed the portal. Tony was in his lab where Stephen thought he’d be, a mug in one hand and a pen in the other.

Stephen’s entire body trembled with nerves as he opened the door, the cloak knocking loudly and dramatically to make his presence known.

“FRIDAY, Quiet Place Protocol please,” Tony said. He looked up and smiled sadly at Stephen as the lab’s usual blaring music shut off. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Stephen suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself. He was too scared to get any closer to Tony, afraid to hurt him, but at the same time all he wanted was to hug him.

The cloak made the first move, flying off of his shoulders and resting on Tony’s.

“Aww, hi Levy.” Of course Tony had a nickname for the relic, he had nicknames for everything and everyone.

Stephen found it annoying in the most heartwarming way, and he couldn’t help but smile as Tony sat down at his workbench.

“You can come over, you know?” Tony asked, half teasingly. “I told you I don’t bite, Steph.”

Stephen felt like a marionette again as he walked towards his boyfriend, but his heart was in control this time. He wanted to protect, to cherish, and to spoil the man in front of him with nothing but love and attention. He was just afraid, still unsure of himself as he studied Tony’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey… I know.” Tony opened his palms on his lap, silently asking to hold Stephen’s hands.

Stephen let him, trembling harder as Tony held him gently. “I don’t know what happened, Tony. Something took over me, and I couldn’t stop it. I’ve never been overpowered like that before, and I didn’t know what to do. But please listen when I say that I promise it’ll never happen again, I mean that’s a given if you leave me, but—”

“I’m not leaving you,” Tony said firmly. “I know you weren’t voluntarily doing all of those things.”

“I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I still don’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Tony…” Stephen took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Tony I could’ve killed you. The entire time I was trying to break the curse, to get that thing out of my system, I almost killed you. And you almost let me do it.”

“I did.”

Stephen didn’t know what to say. Tony had that calm, accepting look on his face mixed with a kind, trusting expression. It was the same look he’d given Stephen in the ruins of the Compound, and it hurt. It didn’t feel like an apology would be enough to make things right, but what else was there to do now? “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony slid his arms around Stephen’s waist and pulled him into the hug they’d both been needing. “I’m fine baby, it’s okay. It’s over.”

Stephen knew it wasn’t just over, and he knew Tony knew it too. But in the moment he was too fatigued to fight about it and let Tony hold him closer. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Trying to,” Tony replied. “Not to be cheesy or whatnot, but I do sleep better with you next to me.”

“May I take you to bed?” Stephen asked, sounding even shyer than when he normally asked that. “Please? I know it’s early, but I wouldn’t object to a nap.”

Tony nodded, shifting to press a chaste kiss to Stephen’s lips. “That sounds nice. FRIDAY, save and shut everything off please.”

“Engaging ‘You Shall Not Pass’ protocol, Boss,” FRIDAY reported dutifully.

Tony scoffed. “Remind me to never let you and Peter give Fri name suggestions again.”

“You could just change it if it bothers you that much.” Stephen chose to remind Tony of that instead, even though they both knew Tony was secretly fond of the movie references hidden in his protocols. “Besides, that serves you right for calling me Gandalf all the time.”

“If the shoe fits, babe,” Tony said. He stood up, keeping an arm wrapped around Stephen’s waist as they left the lab and headed for the elevators.

Despite feeling safe and loved in Tony’s arms, more than he could have ever hoped to be and probably more than he deserved, Stephen was still anxious. He felt out of place in the Tower, never mind the fact that he usually spent half of his time there, and he felt even more out of place amongst the team.

“How are the others?” He asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer.

“They’re getting better.” Tony saw no point in sugarcoating the truth. Stephen would see right through it, and that wouldn’t help him process everything. “Carol and Thor are both bored of training with each other, but no one else wants to spar with either of them yet. Or with Natasha, for that matter.”

“Does anyone ever want to spar with them on a good day?” Stephen asked, trying to keep the mood light.

“You’re all a bunch of sore losers who can’t rise to a friendly challenge” Natasha quipped, suddenly materializing in front of the couple. “Tony, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why is he here?”

“Natasha, I—”

Natasha pointedly ignored Stephen. She never disliked the sorcerer, she was actually indifferent and had no issues telling Tony that, but Tony’s trustful, rather soft nature was a concern of hers. It worked in her favor, sure, but she was really trying to be a better friend to Tony and look out for him more. It was this concern that motivated her to look at Stephen with disgust. Natasha wasn’t scared of him, she took heavy damage in the attacks but it was more minimal compared to some of the things she’d put his friends and family through.

Tony was acting as if none of that happened, and that couldn’t stand.

Natasha frowned and glared at Stephen as she addressed Tony. “Tony what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t play dumb and tell me you’re not following. What are you still doing with him? You barely sleep more than an hour without waking everyone up screaming from phantom pain and nightmares! Do you think we can’t hear you yelling and begging for Stephen to stop torturing you and just kill you? Because we all do!” Natasha took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And after all that, you’re holding him like nothing is wrong? I don’t understand how you can be so forgiving sometimes.”

She stormed off before Stephen could defend himself or before Tony could respond. Her words echoed in Stephen’s head as Tony continued to lead him down the hallway, into the elevator, and into the penthouse.

Stephen sat dejectedly on the bed as Tony shuffled around the room, grabbing a few blankets from the closet. He didn’t say anything as Tony made a little nest of pillows and blankets, the cloak joining the haphazard pile the minute Tony curled up under a throw. Eventually Stephen allowed himself to lay down, offering no protests as Tony hugged him again.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, mumbling into the soft fabric of Tony’s shirt.

“I know,” Tony said simply. “Relax sweetheart, it’s okay.”

He was still tense, curling up smaller in Tony’s arms. “Are you okay?” The sorcerer asked.

“I’m fine,” Tony reassured him. That was half true. He was fine, to a point, but there were things bothering him that he had no idea how to tell Stephen about.

Eventually they would have to face the music and talk about everything, and they both knew it. For now, Tony was somewhat okay with ignoring it, clinging to the hope that having his Stephen back would keep the memories at bay.

Tags: @stark-strange-love2 @salty-ironstrange-shipper @funkylittlebidiot @richieleeparker @chocopiggy @hatakehikari @taruyison

101 notes · View notes

avarkriss · 4 years ago

Text

Trust

✭・.・✫

Commander Cody x F!Reader

Rated: E for Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 2.903k

Summary: Cody has a trust kink and you learn that he has a new knife.

Song Inspo: Do It For Me by Rosenfeld. Huge thanks to @beskars and @darthstyles for being the beautiful, supportive angels that they are!

Warnings: dom!cody, knifeplay, commander kink, naked female clothed male, spanking, oral fixation, honor bondage, bloodplay (it’s just a drop), biting/marking, female receiving oral, trust kink, i really thought this was going to be rougher but... well you’ll see. Oh and cockwarming

Image credit: unsplash

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy this adventure as much as I did! I’ve never written this particular kink before but... it went in a much softer direction than anticipated I don’t know what to say fam lmao we’re nasty but soft here. Enjoy, share what you can, and be well ~

You were tapping away on your datapad when the news icon chimed, pulling your attention away from the mind-numbing game that kept you from pacing at night. With a shaky breath you opened the alert, smiling when the headline appeared.

Republic Victory on Geonosis - Separatist Droid Factory Destroyed

You allowed yourself to exhale before searching the article for any reference of his name. You just wanted to know he was safe, sitting in the destroyer with General Kenobi as they made their way back to Coruscant for a day or two of leave after a difficult campaign.

What you saw instead, however, made your heart leap into your throat and your thighs clench together. You swallowed thickly before tapping on the image in the middle of the article, letting it grow to fill the screen.

The news articles often featured the mysterious Jedi using some Force power or another to assist their men or the inhabitants of whatever planet they were trying to keep from falling to the Separatists. But today... today the image was of Commander CC-2224, Cody, standing proud over a pile of droid parts, a knife glinting in the Geonosian sun in one hand with the B1's severed head in the other.

You licked your lips as you studied the way his hand was curled tight around the grip, his gloves pressed hard into the leather. You shifted against the couch, scanning over the curved edge of the blade when a firm knock at your door startled you.

You tossed the datapad to the table and hurried to the door, swinging it open when you saw that Cody had made it home.

“You didn’t comm me,” you half-complained, wrapping your arms around his waist while he surrounded you, the plastoid armor plates cool against your skin.

“Broke it on a clanker,” he grunted, kicking your door closed. He reached one arm up to pull his helmet off, setting it next to your discarded datapad where he saw a very familiar face looking back at him.

“Quite the holo they captured.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice as heat bloomed across your cheeks. With a noncommittal hum you buried your head into his chest plate, hoping he wouldn’t press the matter any further.

“See something you like?”

There it was.

You knew better than to ignore a direct question, but the words were caught in your throat. You quietly whispered your answer into the plastoid, knowing his hearing was enhanced enough to catch the words as they spilled off your tongue.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

You sighed it into him again, slightly louder this time but still muffled by his armor. He flexed his hands around your waist before trailing one up your side, holding your chin in his fingers as he leaned back from you.

“I asked you a question. Be a good girl and answer me.”

You knew that granite tone, the one that left your mouth dry and your underclothes soaked. You clenched your thighs where you stood, meeting his hard, steady gaze with a soft moan.

“Your knife is new,” you finally breathed, letting the words hang in the short space separating your bodies.

You watched him think for a brief moment before his fingers tightened on your chin, his lips heavy on yours as he pulled you back against him. He ran his tongue across your lower lip before taking it between his teeth, rolling it gently while you moaned into him.

When he broke away it was to lazily kiss along your jaw, gloved hand hot on the small of your back as he whispered low against your ear.

“Go get ready for me.”

You slowly peeled yourself away from him, taking a few steps back before turning on your heel to sprint towards your bedroom.

You could hear him slowly clunking down the hall, taking his sweet time. You shed all of your clothes and kicked them towards the basket in the corner before climbing onto your bed, pressing your chest into the blankets with your hips high in the air.

When he finally stepped into your room he took a sharp breath, crossing to hover his hand over the swell of your ass, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his gloved palm -

"Someone has been messy," he chided, pulling his hand away before clicking his tongue as he gathered your clothes, dropping them into your basket.

You felt the bed dip when he returned to you, waiting for him to run his hands down your spine, to grab at your hips and pull you to his mouth.

But instead he leaned towards you, the hard edge of his voice making your thighs tremble.

"I think we both know what needs to happen before I let you come."

You shifted your arms to peek at him shyly, slowly nodding before crawling over his lap. He moved to peel his gloves off and you asked him to wait, lightly batting your eyelashes as you looked up at him.

“Would you pretty please keep your gloves on, Commander?”

Cody hummed low before nodding in affirmation, squeezing the back of your thigh as you lowered yourself into his lap.

“You didn’t answer my question two times, and you didn’t pick up after yourself. What’s three times two?”

“Six,” you grunted against the bed, shifting against his armored lap.

“Clever girl,” he chuckled. “Make sure you count out loud.”

With a flick of his wrist Cody’s large hand landed against the swell of your flesh, fingers kneading away the sting while you yelped out “one.” He turned his focus to the other cheek before delivering another firm spank, your count of “two” higher pitched than the last.

On the third you adjusted your hips against him, groaning when he traced a finger around your entrance.

“Wet already?” he smiled, pulling his hand away to bring it back against you. You moaned “four” into the sheets before turning your head to the side.

“Been wet since seeing you in that article,” you admitted, unashamed of the way heat bloomed across your body at the admission.

He ran his tongue across his upper lip as he dug his leather-clad fingers into your skin before giving you five and six, soothing the ache away with slow circles. He helped you sit up, straddling his lap as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What do you want?” Cody asked in that graveled voice, pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat.

“Your knife, Commander. I trust you.”

“And what will you say if you want to stop?”

“Red,” you sighed, pussy clenching around nothing as he dragged his tongue up your neck, teeth scraping at your jaw before he bit into you, sucking a mark into your skin. You moaned and rolled your hips against him, pulling at the fastenings on his armor.

Cody pushed your hands to your sides and nudged you off his lap, instructing you to lay back on the bed. He stood, pulling his knife from his utility belt and placed it between his teeth before undoing the buckle and letting it drop to the floor. You moaned at the sight of him and he raised an eyebrow before the corner of his mouth turned up.

He held it there as he unhurriedly unfastened the armor on his legs, making a show of tossing the knife between his hands when he removed his chest and back plates. When he was left in his bodysuit he looked at his gloves, throwing you a devilish smirk as he moved over to where you laid, casually flipping the blade in his hand as he walked before setting it on the nightstand.

He traced your lips with his pointer, sliding his finger into your mouth when you parted it for him.

“There’s my good girl.”

His middle finger joined his pointer and you sucked around his fingers, gliding your tongue across his fingertips. The leather tasted like blaster residue and oil and you groaned at the taste, licking against him eagerly. He asked you to bite down and you complied, teeth sinking into the battle-worn glove as he pulled his hand away.

He pulled the glove from your mouth and tossed it to the ground, giving you his other hand to free before pulling his shirt from over his head. He took your hands and placed them under the edge of your headboard, kissing your forehead before climbing into the bed over you, sliding his knee between your legs.

“You’re not to move a muscle, do you understand?” he asked gruffly, reaching for his knife.

“Yes Commander, I’ll stay still for you.”

Cody slanted his lips over yours, kissing you hungrily while working his tongue into your mouth. He could taste the leather from his gloves lingering on you, licking into you as you groaned below him.

He sat back, straddling your thigh when he reached for the knife. You darted your tongue at the corner of your mouth, holding back a whimper while Cody slowly turned the blade in his hands.

“It was designed for hunting,” he explained patiently, placing the tip at your clavicle.

He delicately pulled the blade along your skin, leaving a thin welt in its wake. You breathed out a low sigh at the sensation of the cold steel biting into your skin, flexing your hands under the headboard.

He pulled the knife between the valley of your breasts, slowly tracing it up the swell of flesh to circle your areola, watching the way your skin pebbled under his touch. He squeezed at your other breast, pulling your nipple between his fingers when you arched your back with a moan.

Cody pulled his blade from your skin and placed a strong hand on your sternum, pressing you back into the mattress. His bodyglove, taught on his thigh, rubbed against your clit when he bent low to growl in your ear.

“Be good and stay still.”

You swallowed thickly before agreeing, licking your lips as he hummed and shifted his knee against you, drawing a salacious whine from behind your teeth.

“Looks like we’ll have to start over,” he grinned, drawing another line across your other clavicle, tracing the blade between your breasts and around the areola of the nipple he had tweaked before.

“Fuuu-” you started, stopping when Cody paused and raised his brow as he looked at you.

“Feels good,” you corrected yourself, offering him a sweet smile. He was feeling merciful and let you slide, placing the handle of the knife between his teeth as he rubbed his fingers into your chest, rolling your nipples in his fingers before taking the knife in his hand once more, tracing below each breast.

You groaned at the way he dragged his blade across your skin, every trace measured and precise. You shivered when he ground his knee against your clit, eyes fluttering before he wrapped his hand below your jaw, fingers tapping at your pulse.

"Watch me while I make you come."

"Anything for you Commander."

He gave you a feral smirk as he crawled down your body, spreading your thighs wide so he could find his home between them.

He traveled the soft skin of your inner thighs with the edge of his knife, pressure just light enough to make your skin hum. He looked up at you with earnest eyes and pointed the tip of his knife at your skin, the barest nod of affirmation all he needed to draw forth a droplet of blood.

He watched the crimson bead form and bubble over before leaning down and catching it with his tongue, holding your eyes with his own as he licked up to the pinpoint before sucking down on the small mark he made.

You moaned his name low while you flexed your arms, desperate to bring your hands to his thick hair. Cody breathed across your core, setting his knife to the side so he could run his thumbs across your lips, spreading you open.

"Such a pretty girl," he admired, running his thumbs over your silken folds.

You had barely started to thank him when his tongue dragged across your entrance, the words drowned in your pleading moans. He kept his eyes on yours when he bit against your clit, sucking it into his mouth while he worked his fingers into you.

Your toes curled as you fought to remain still, the act becoming more and more difficult as he crooked his fingers inside of you, beckoning your pleasure forward.

You could feel him smiling against your body as your breathing hitched and your voice grew, eyes wide and focused on his.

You were exposed like this, looking at your reflection in his eyes. You were exposed and open and his and you would give him anything, all he had to do was ask.

"Come," he commanded, lapping against you as he thrust his fingers, rubbing against a place that left you with fading vision and chanting his name, your favorite forbidden prayer.

He drank all you offered, moaning as he gathered the evidence of your orgasm in the palm of his hand. When he held his palm up you lifted your head and licked it clean before swirling his digits with your tongue.

"My sweet girl," he cooed, leaning down to kiss you before hopping off the bed to finish undressing, setting his knife back on the nightstand.

"You did so well."

He uncurled your fingers from under the board and lowered your arms, gently rubbing them before helping you sit up. He offered you a sip of water which you gladly accepted before he laid down next to you, pulling you to his chest.

"Tell me what you need Commander," you whispered, leaning over to kiss the hollow of his throat.

"You," he rasped, flexing his hand on your hips.

"I need you."

The rough edge of his voice hid the vulnerability betrayed by his eyes, that unspoken shared fear that this time could be the last time. You reached up to cup his cheek in your hand, running the pad of your thumb over his patchy stubble before capturing his lips with your own, hoping he could feel your love, so much love, with every breath you shared.

You went to climb into his lap when he squeezed your hip, rolling you to your side. He laid behind you, one hand over your chest and the other teasing at the apex of your thighs, slinging one leg over his own to bring a teasing finger to your aching pussy.

"Please Commander, let me feel you."

He eased himself into you with a grunt, savoring the quiet sound of your breath leaving your lungs as he pushed the air out of you.

He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch while he kissed the shell of your ear, singing sweet praises that made your velvet walls flutter around him. When he rolled his hips against yours he brushed his calloused fingertips against your swollen clit, sucking another mark onto the skin behind your ear.

Your heady moans filled the small room, every rock of his hips sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He pushed hard into you, gyrating his hips so that the head of his cock would rub against that sensitive place inside of you while his fingers circled on your clit. Your pitch grew higher as you wriggled in his arms, his warm voice filling your ear.

"Wanna feel you come around me," he rumbled, rolling a nipple between his fingers.

You cried out his name as you clenched around him, his own groan low as he buried his face in your neck.

Your breathing had barely settled when Cody started to lean further into you, undulating against you before shifting to kneel behind you, pulling your hips flush against his own.

He ran his fingers down the path of your spine before letting them dig into your waist, snapping himself against you. You rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts with your own eagerness.

He worked one hand up your front, slowing as he pulled your back to his chest.

"'m close," he whispered against you, kissing your shoulder with his slow thrusts, staving off his one release.

"Wanna fill this tight little pussy."

"Please Commander," you begged, hand flying to where his rested to squeeze his fingers.

"Please."

He stilled for a moment before tightening his hold on you, thrusting up into you at a pace that left you clinging onto him, seeing the stars he spent so much time among.

You came apart again, crying his name as he called yours, spilling into you with shallow thrusts and broken curses.

He gently lowered you to the bed, starting to ease out of you when you grasped his fingers again.

"Stay," you asked quietly, offering the shelter of your body for his fleeting reprieve.

"Rest with me."

He slid back into you at your request, wrapping you in his arms before tucking your shoulder under his chin.

His breathing slowed with yours and you melted into his warm embrace, entwining your fingers with his. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and sighed your name against you, fighting the sleep that pulled threatened to pull him under.

"Rest now Cody. I'll be here in the morning."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#commander cody #commander cody x reader #commander cody x you #the clone wars #tcw #tcw cody #star wars #star wars fic #cw: knifeplay #cw: blood mention #the clone wars smut #star wars smut #it's sunday so that means it's time to s i n #i am terrified to share this but #here we are #it is kinktober after all #please pardon any typos i wrote 60% of this in the car but i think i got them all

263 notes · View notes

transmascdeanwinchester · 4 years ago

Note

You got any trans man dean headcanons? 👀

I don’t know when u sent this so sorry if I’m answering late!!!

Also I just have the basic bitch set of trans dean headcanons tbh but they make me go feral so I will repeat them!!

- lazurus rising when cas brought dean back he put him in the body he’s always deserved (the mirror scene lives in my head rent free baby!)

- teenage dean stealing testosterone from hospitals and pharmacies when he had the chance bc they moved around too much for him to have a stable prescription pickup plan

- John being pissed for awhile that dean’s not his “perfect little girl” like he thought but getting over it bc dean is so determined to emulate him to prove his masculinity that it just makes him a better more fierce hunter and protector so John gets over it in like a year (Dean’s always been Like That anyway,,, in the grand scheme of things it’s less Distracting to have this small ongoing conflict that John just calls him Dean and does the passive aggressive “you wanna be a man? Act like it.” bullshit you know how it goes)

- Dean knowing he’s not a girl from a young age (like probably about 6) and teaches Sam to call him Dean and that he’s his brother from the time sammy can talk (Sam doesn’t learn Dean’s name is legally Deanna until he’s starting middle school)

- Dean binding in his teens by wearing those tank tops that are like skin tight but also stretchy material? With the built in bra part? he wears two of those under all the Normal Winchester layers and it gives him the flat chest (what isn’t flattened completely gets lost under his dad’s leather jacket he wears to school every day)

- it goes without saying but Dean, age 7, cut his hair for the first time in a shitty hotel bathroom mirror by trying to copy a dude in a shaving ad in a magazine (John didn’t even notice for three days)

- Dean gets top surgery after sam goes to Stanford when he’s supposed to be on a solo hunt (he tells John he’s hunting something but really he’s recovering at Bobby’s)

- Bobby, we are not surprised, is a good father figure and shut that shit down when dean explains that he’s just gonna hole up in a motel once he gets his surgery (“Boy, do you know how fucking dirty motel linens are? I am NOT letting you die from an infection and most certainly not leaving you Alone for months defenseless”)

- Dean using makeup to make his jawline a little sharper and more square even tho the iffy food situation growing up made sure he barely has any roundness to his face to begin with

- on the flip side dean playing up his fem features to use as a distraction when he hustles pool

- dean training his voice by trying to copy the sound of his favorite singers voices (and John since he hears his voice most consistently)

- dean knocking the shit out of transphobes (the comments don’t even have to be directed at him, he hears them and it’s ON SIGHT no question)

- dean acting like a womanizer bc that’s what Men Do and it’s all just literally part of his carefully constructed hyper masculine image bc it’s so so difficult to pick up anyone when what’s under theclothes don’t match what can be seen on the surface (Cassie is the first person he sleeps with and he’s so terrified but she doesn’t care holy shit she doesn’t care?)

- Dean chooses to keep his name close to his birth name bc that’s the name his mother gave him and he doesn’t want to disrespect her by completely changing it

- On the topic of dean’s hyper masculine image he constructs it from a mix of John and from the action movies he studies religiously when he has the chance (this is what boys like this is what every man dreams of being I have to like this too-) even tho he has enough action and violence in his actual life thanks,

- Dean not being big on faith because he can’t imagine some higher power choosing to make him be born in the wrong body and make him work so hard to fix it himself like life wasn’t hard Enough

- Dean being so immensely pleased when word gets around the monster worlds about the Winchester Brothers,,, the validity of your reputation being cemented in the way you’ve carefully crafted it to be

- Dean rationalizing that it’s okay for him to spend time and energy on making sure he’s presenting masc and getting the body language and mannerisms down because it helps him be better at his jobs as protector of his family and as a hunter (men are thought of as stronger/scarier, men are taken more seriously when interviewing locals/victim’s families, more authority is afforded to men)

- dean almost shooting a man in a bar bathroom when he’s fourteen and just needed to deal with shark week stuff real quickly but this drunk decided a “teenage girlie only has one use in a men’s bathroom” but dean just knocks him out and sprints back to the motel (dean doesn’t use public bathrooms after that if he can help it)

- dean not knowing the word transgender until he finds it in a library book while he’s supposed to be researching but really he’d heard the slur and needed to be clear on why it made him feel so icky so he was looking it up in the dictionary and he’s like Oh that’s Me

- Bobby doesn’t actually meet Sam and Dean until after Dean’s cut his hair for the first time and Sammy can only say half words (most Dee, which is good enough for Dean) so one of Dean’s first impressions of Bobby is him asking John “didn’t you have a daughter?” and John just giving a tired sigh because he’s too busy with the hunt he’s here for to try and get into it but Dean butts in with “No, he’s always had two boys, I’m Dean and this is Sammy” and Bobby doesn’t comment on this little high pitched voice or question it much because he’s babysitting this kid for the next two weeks and he doesn’t want it to be a hostile two weeks (and it never becomes a problem because by the end of week one Bobby never even entertains the idea that Dean isn’t a little boy)

- After Dean gets back from Hell literally the only thing that trips Sam and Bobby up (aside from that he just resurrected lmao) is that his shoulders are more squared and he’s just built more like he should be (see previous point about cas rebuilding him as he should’ve been!)

- Dean never having much money but he still donates to queer charities when he can (makes a point of it in June especially)

- Dean hangs a trans flag in his room at the bunker (and one in the dean cave too)

- The insane validation Dean feels at being called The Rifhteous Man (also the fact that Heaven Knew he was a man all along but didn’t lift a finger to make that any easier to show the rest of the world adds to dean’s general hatred towards them tho)

That’s all I can think of right now but just!! Trans Dean!!!!

Thank u for asking friend!!!

(@bowie-boy I am tagging u bc idk if u will see this post so hope that’s okay!!!)

#shut up sammy

67 notes · View notes

somecunttookmyurl · 4 years ago

Note

I'm very curious about the research you mentioned concerning CYP2D6 metabolism. Could you post or DM the name of the study? Is your plan to inhibit CYP2D6 by taking CBD or an anti-histamine to increase the effectiveness of the anphetamine based ADHD meds you're taking? Seems like an interesting (and well researched) plan - I hope it works for you if that's what you're doing!

YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD. I’m gonna put this under a readmore so as to not bore the other 3,066 of you with weirdly specific pharmacology and pharmacogenetics talk Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, or a pharmacist, or any sort of medical professional at all. I have absolutely zero qualifications in pharmacology I’m just a nerd with half a psychology degree, a talent for study design, and shitty fucking doctors.

So I first learned about CYP26D metabolism (and the broader P450 cytochrome) in like 2017 from a friend doing a PhD in things much smarter than me. I’ve always been a Feral Drug Goblin (resistant if not immune to a lot of drugs) and she seemed to think that’s what was happening. Which tracks because like. 90% of the stuff that doesn’t work on me is a CYP2D6 substrate (the rest are CYP3A4 so I might have more than one defect, but if there’s something funky going on on 3A4 the effect is less pronounced)

Later discovered I have hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) and like... many if not most EDS sufferers have *at least* one P450 defect . Around 80% or so of people with chronic pain more generally have at least one P450 defect. It’s not something I’ve been tested for because a) even though CYP2D6 metabolism and its effect on drug treatment has been studied for like 30 years, the NHS only started introducing genomic testing for it in 2019 and b) getting a referral would require finding a doctor who knows what it is which, like, lmao. Honestly though we can be about 99% certain I’m an ultrarapid metaboliser, all things considered. Mostly I want a genomic test to see if any of the others are broken.

Now, I don’t know why it took me four years to think of it but over the weekend at 2:30am (I’m not allowed to have a thought during daylight hours actually) that like... logically speaking... if you gave a potent CYP2D6 inhibitor to an ultrarapid metaboliser it would normalise (or at least improve, depending on how many functional copies of the gene I’m dealing with like people have been found with thirteen copies) the metabolic function. Absolute galaxy brain moment.

Of course combining a CYP2D6 substrate and a CYP2D6 inhibitor generally carries a “moderately severe” interaction warning because if you’re alrealy, like, normal that could be dangerous. So I had a dig around to see if anybody had studied that specific thing and whether it was actually safe.

It took me... a pretty long time because this concept is massively understudied. I mean there’s 1001 studies on “does being an ultrarapid metaboliser of CYP2D6 affect [x substrate drug]” to the extent it’s like... yeah dude. The answer is yes. It’s always yes. I think we’ve proved this concept. Don’t think you need to do it for every single drug. We get it. There are a couple though. Both of the studies were only 5 participants, and were done 20 years ago (2000 and 2001) but in both cases all participants showed... honestly pretty amazingly positive responses and no ill effects. Which is why I’m so baffled that seemingly nobody has studied it since. Like “well, this went fantastically well! We shall never speak of it again” The first study gave the participants debrisoquine hydroxylation, which is the substance they use to test the function of CYP2D6 when they do the genomic test. So they weren’t on a CYP2D6 substrate already they were given it specifically for the study. Then they were given quinidine (an anti-arrhythmic which has sadly been disconintues) as an inhibitor. Without quinidine, the metabolic ratio of debrisoquine in the participants after 6 hours was 0.01 - 0.07. Which is, like, fuck all. With quinidine that amount was 12.6, 10.1, 9.2, 2.4, and 2.2. Participants had 3, 3, 4, 13, and 13 copies of the gene respectively so the more copies you have the less improvement you see, but < 0.1 to 2.2 is still huge https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2014903/ The second study in 2001, also 5 participants, administered nortriptyline as the substrate and then used paroxetine (an SSRI) as the inhibitor. After taking nortriptyline for a week, all participants had very low subtherapeutic levels of the drug in their systems. Following 2 weeks of treatment with paroxetine, 4/5 participants had normally-expected therapeutic levels of noritryptiline. The other participant withdrew after 1 week of paroxetine treatment after getting side effects from it but still had an increase in noritryptiline levels in that time so it was working he just didn’t tolerate paroxetine very well. https://sci-hub.se/https://ascpt.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1016/S0009-9236(01)78384-1

Those are, to my knowledge, the only studies done specifically to test whether you can normalise liver function using an inhibitor. There is a case study from 2006 of a 6 year old boy with ADHD who didn’t respond to drugs and was confirmed to be an ultrarapid metaboliser. The authors recommend usage of an inhibitor in such cases

https://sci-hub.se/https://journals.lww.com/psychopharmacology/Citation/2006/08000/An_ADHD_6_year_old_Child_Ultrarapid_Metabolizer.25.aspx

I can’t have paroxetine or fluoxetine because I have a bipolar-spectrum disorder and historically me and SSRIs are not friends. However buproprion (wellbutrin) is an inhibitor which I was prescribed before to counteract a side effect from atomoxetine and like I was definitely more functional at the time? But that was way before I had this genius plan, or knew it was an inhibitor, so. There’s been a supply issue here for it since July. So yeah. I’m going to be taking CBD. Amphetamines do absolutely fuck all by themselves so like literally my plan is “taking weed pills to try and make my liver talk to meth properly” which sounds absolutely ridiculous. Gonna be hilarious if it fuckin’ works. I’m going to be doing a proper study and writing it all up and everything. Emailed the researchers involved in the 3 studies to see if they’re interested in my data like 20 years later lmao but if you wanna read the study outline it’s here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TOnToHMH7UhYMFM9qtv-4ZWmaV7Pr6IQeYv6QDAGVrQ/edit?usp=sharing Just gonna keep going unti it either works, or the amount of CBD required becomes too expensive (which would be like 9 weeks max bc I can’t afford to be taking more than 60mg CBD every day forever).

#thepropervillain #bet you regret asking now huh

23 notes · View notes

overly-b · 5 years ago

Text

What You’ve Been Missing - Pope Hayward

In which Pope finally finds out what he’s been missing.

Warnings: swearing, sexual content, oral(male receiving)

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: this is my first time writing any kind of smut so PLEASE be nice lmao

Sexual content under the cut!

not my gif

Pope was well aware of the fact that he had fallen a little too fast, but he didn’t care. In the two months that he had been with you, he realized what it means to be with someone that you love, and he wasn’t afraid to tell it to the world.

However there was one thing that he was terrified to tell you.

About a month after you had started dating, JJ pointed something out to Pope that he had never had to face before, being that he had never been in a relationship.

He was completely and utterly inexperienced.

“This feels better than a blowjob”

“Like you know how that feels” JJ smugly commented.

Those words rang in his head on a constant loop, because here he was now, dating the girl of his dreams, and he had no idea how to please you.

Why in the world would someone like you be with someone like him. He asked himself that question all of the time, but once he had realized the large gap in your sexual experiences, he panicked. Not only were you out of his league, but you had the experience that he simply didn’t have.

Once you found out, he thought, you would surely leave him. You could have anyone you wanted, why would you want a boy who's barely even kissed a girl before.

All of these thoughts and more swirled around Popes head everyday, especially when you would start to get physical.

The two of you got into steamy makeout sessions all of the time, clothes and sans clothes, however it never got any further than that. Pope always found a way around getting any hotter or heavier.

He hated himself for it. Not only was he cock blocking himself, but he knew that you questioned his physical attraction to you because of it.

He decided that he needed to just let it happen. He didn’t have to tell you anything, technically. He didn’t have to tell you that he was a total virgin who's never even been so much as touched by anyone else. But he was worried that it would become apparent as he would have no clue what to do once he got to it.

He did his best to study up, reading and watching videos online, but he was smart enough to know that most of that nonsense is simply acting, and is nothing like the real thing.

He found himself not being able to hide from it anymore.

You were straddling his lap, making out heavily as you often did. You had the house to yourself, the perfect storm. He knew you had been wanting to explore more of your physical relationship, and this was a perfect time to do so, with no one to bother you. Pope knew this, and was tense about where this would lead.

You were grinding down on his lap, feeling his stiffness beneath you. His breath would hitch every time your hips made contact, but it didn’t seem like a good kind of breath hitching. He was nervous. He always got nervous when you did this.

“Is this okay?” You look into his eyes through your lashes. He nodded quickly, as if to cover his nerves. You felt uneasy about why he was so anxious, but continued. The two of you quickly shed clothes, leaving you both in underwear. He kissed along your neck and collarbone, leaving small hickeys on the top of your clothed breasts.

You return the favor, kissing down his neck to his chest. You spend some time there, but decide to continue lower, littering his abdomen with kisses. You slide down his body, landing between his legs, on your knees on the floor before your bed. You got the waistband of his underwear, kissing from left to right, teasing him slowly.

You palm his length over his boxers, and his reaction is one of fear rather than pleasure.

“Baby,” You pull away from between his legs. “What’s wrong?”

Pope sighs defeatedly.

“I have no idea what I’m doing” He admits. You stand from your spot on your knees, sitting next to him. He sits up, eyes meeting yours.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never, like, done anything.” He sputters.

“You’ve never done anything?” You repeat, brows raised slightly.

“Yeah.” He huffs, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Like anything?”

“Nothing more than what we’ve done.”

“Really?” Your reaction passes your lips before you can stop it.

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking to his hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean that to, sound like that.” You retract, feeling horrible that you made him shut down. “Pope you know that’s okay right? How come you never told me?”

“Yeah I know it’s okay I just,” He pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts. “You’re just a lot more experienced than me, and I don’t want anything to be, like bad. I want to be good for you, I just have nothing to go off of, and that makes me nervous.”

“Is that why you always get so nervous when we get intimate?”

He nods.

“Pope, it's okay that you haven't done anything, I actually think it’s endearing.”

“No you don’t” He counters quickly.

“Yes I do baby really! And we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, but you need to know that it’s okay for it to be new. And with you and me nothing will ever be bad. We both have to learn together and that's perfectly okay! Because even if I’ve been with other guys, I’ve never been with you, you know?” You ramble. “I just never want you to feel like you have to hide yourself from me okay?”

“Okay.” Pope answers, taking in what you said. “And trust me, I want to do everything with you. Fuck it’s all I ever think about. But like I said I just don’t know where to start.”

“Then let me start.” Your voice was more seductive now, a vast contrast from the loving tone you were speaking in just moments before. You slowly climbed back to his lap, straddling him again. His hands found your hips, and his lips found yours quickly. “Do you trust me?” You ask him.

“Of course.”

“Then let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

You go back to kissing him deeply, working his half hard back to completely stiff as it was before.

“Try not to be nervous.” You mutter into his lips. “You can’t do anything wrong here okay?” He presses his forehead to yours and nods gently. You drop to your knees once again, kneeling between his legs. “Lay back baby.”

Pope does as he is told, laying back onto your mattress, still watching you as you kiss his stomach. You palm him through his underwear again, but this time he seems much more relaxed as you do so. Your fingers find the waistband of his boxers, and you look up at him. He nods to you, signaling that it was okay for you to remove them.

You peel the fabric back, letting his hard length free.

You start slow, pumping him up and down with your hand. Pope stifled a moan, enjoying the new feeling of someone else relieving him.

“Remember, you can’t do any wrong okay? Everything's gonna be just fine, don’t be nervous baby, I’ve got you.” Pope nods. “Let me know when you’re close okay?”

“Okay.” He breathes out.

You lick a stripe from base to tip, swirling your tongue at the top. His breathing instantly becomes unsteady, but the good kind of unsteady this time. You bob your head at a slow pace, staying at the tip.

Pope can’t contain the groan that he lets out.

“Fuck,”

“That’s it baby, let me know how good you feel,” You encourage him.

“Oh my god,”

Once you finalize that he was in fact relaxed enough, you start dipping your head lower, hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little deeper than before. The new feeling makes Pope twitch and bite his lip.

He looks down at you as you move up and down. You were already looking up at him through your lashes. His hands find your head, holding some of your hair back as he admired you. You were glad that he was allowing himself to be in the moment rather than fretting about his actions. You take this as your queue to go further.

The tip of his dick hitting the back of your warm throat was a feeling that he couldn’t believe he was ever afraid of.

“Fucking hell Y/N” He hissed as you held all of him in your mouth for as long as you could, gagging as you did so. Strings of spit connected your lips to his throbbing cock as you pulled away, in need of air.

“How we doin’ baby?” You ask seductively, going back to sucking at his tip.

“Better than I’ve literally ever been,” He replied after a long intake of breath. “Fuck-” You cut off his words by deepthroating him again. You moaned at the feeling, sending vibrations through him. “Fuck, I’m so close.” He tells you.

“Let go for me Pope, cum for me.”

And that was all that it took. Moments later, his cum hit the back of your throat, and you worked him through his orgasm. Once you were sure he was finished, you kept your mouth on him for a few strokes longer, wanting his release to last as long as you could string it.

You pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing what was still on your tongue. You allowed him to breath for a moment, climbing back up to cuddle into his side. He instantly took you into his chest.

“You’re amazing. That was amazing.” He told you, his breath still working its way back to normal. You respond by smushing your lips onto his cheek, kissing it repeatedly.

“You’re pretty amazing too Popey.”

“Can we do that all of the time now?” He asks you jokingly. You giggle.

“I can do that as many times as you like,” You respond provocatively.

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” He laughs. “Thank you for showing me what I’ve been missing.”

#pope #hayward #pope hayward #pope hayward imagine #pope hayward x reader #pope fic #pope one shot #obx #obx netflix #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #outer banks netflix #outerbanks pope #jj maybank #obx imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine

287 notes · View notes

aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

Text

Storms

Ship: RFA + Minor Trio and GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5,431 words total; about 700 per person

Premise: A rewrite of an old request I wrote back in 2017 (link here).

Author’s Note: These are less headcanons and more fics outlines lmao but hope you like this rewrite. I do considering I can barely stand reading the original, my writing has thankfully improved, and I hope it will continue to do so. I haven’t written in 2nd person in literal years (3rd person ftw) so I hope it doesn’t come off too strange.

Two notes. Firstly I’ve done my best to make the reader gender neutral. If you catch any gendered terms feel free to tell me so I can fix it. Secondly, I haven’t played Another Story yet, rip my broke ass, so if V and Saeran are a bit out of character, that’s definitely why. I’m working on it haha. In regards to V I simply know almost nothing about his route, and in regards to Saeran I’ve decided to ignore what I know about his route, mostly because this was hitting 4,000 words at that point and an in depth HC involving canonical thing would probably be about that length. Sorry this is so long and thus the final HCs a bit rushed. Thanks for putting up with me! Hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link in reblog

Zen

Having a fear of thunderstorms was one of the most obnoxious fears on the planet sometimes. Especially when one is surround by 60 mph gusts of wind and the house one lives in feels like 80% glass.

This was the predicament you were left in when a series of storms passed through the first week you and Zen were officially dating. Oh joy.

Despite how in love you were with Zen, revealing one’s fears, especially when they seem vaguely irrational, is a difficult thing to do, so you teetered towards Option B

That being: Don’t tell anyone, keep calm, if you need to take a break go to the bathroom or say you forgot something in the bedroom. Okay? Okay.

However this flawless plan of attack lasted only about five minutes, and the first clap of thunder had you ready to bolt under the bed.

Zen, bless him, was utterly oblivious, listening to the backtrack of a song he was working on and occasionally making such benign comments as “that’s a lot of rain” or “wow that was loud”

Yeah. That was loud. Help me.

Eventually it got a bit… much, and you had to make your excuses about getting a book from the television/living room. Since it was in the “basement” part of the complex you’d figured that it’d be easier to hide out there. Just turn off all the lights, try to find earplugs, then count down the time until the storms were over.

Unfortunately the weather wasn’t adhering to this plan very well, how typical of it, as the storms were supposed to last until the early hours of the morning. And it wouldn’t exactly be unobtrusive to not eat.

So after ten minutes in the dark you went out to help Zen prepare dinner. At least no one needed to go to the grocery store. And today’s menu included Japchae, so always a treat! It was going to be okay, nothing was going to happen. It’s fine.

At least that’s what you told yourself until a particular bright flash of lightning streaked the sky and you promptly jumped and dropped the sweet potato noodles on the ground.

At this point Zen switched from oblivious to overly concerned. Say what you will about him but he was truly a sweetheart when he noticed something was wrong. As he helped you pick up the spilled noodles, assuring you that there was enough still in the package to use, he asked what was wrong

You explained that when you were little your grandparents had a house in a village in the countryside and one summer day lightning struck a powerline, causing it as well as two houses close to yours to burn down.

Zen responded with such concern. “Oh MC I’m so sorry to hear that! Was anyone hurt? No wonder you’re uncomfortable around storms now.”

“It was such a long time ago, and it’s so unlikely to happen again my lifetime… I don’t know why I’m still so afraid, it’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to be afraid of something. You don’t have to hide your fears around me sweetheart. There’s no shame in it.”

Unfortunately words usually cannot make fears go away, but safe to say you were touched. Picking up the rest of the noodles and disposing them you and Zen shared a sweet series of hugs, and maybe you wouldn’t continued down that route if the water hadn’t begun to boil and dinner was once more brought back into stark focus.

Afterwards you guys ate in front of the tv, turning on a random crappy show and making fun of the announcer.

You could still hear the thunder every once in a while, but Zen made sure you felt safe and happy, cuddling you, doing something to draw your attention to him at the beginning of each clap of thunder, and keeping up a steady stream of conversation, even about the most mundane of things.

Your fear still wasn’t gone, and you still weren’t excited for the rest of the week, but at least you had someone with you who truly cared and was actively trying to make you feel better. You knew Zen would always be there for you, and that knowledge would carry you through the most anxious of times, to the other side.

You truly loved him so much.

Yoosung

Sometimes you wished that you could disappear into something as easily as Yoosung did, both with his games and with his studying.

Yoosung was in his first year of veterinarian medical school and, having just passed the first series of exams, had invited you over to the apartment he was leasing, for an evening of games, television, and overall hanging out. It would’ve been more of a date, but the weather was impressively stormy and, much to your relief, it was decided that staying inside was the better option.

Yoosung was loading up a game on the tv and you were checking to see what remained in the fridge, when a bolt of lightning raced across the sky; suddenly you became aware of just how very high up apartment buildings tended to be, and, much like usual, the logical part of your brain repeating Googled information about lightning rods was replaced by a static of anxiety floating around in your brain.

Returning to the TV room you nervously picked up the controller, hoping that Yoosung wouldn’t notice. Not that you didn’t trust him to understand, indeed you’d hardly met anyone as understanding as Yoosung, but it was more that years of being told “it’s just rain” had kinda gotten to your system.

The first half an hour or so was alright, the quiet mental notes you were taking told you that the storm was still far enough away, although there was no doubt it was getting closer; something reinforced by your, hopefully, discreet checking of the weather app.

When the storm arrived, oh boy did it arrive.

The winds felt unbearable, screaming terribly, rattling the windowpanes with fast, stinging rain, so much so the outside looked less like the outside and more like the middle of a whirlpool. A whirlpool that occasionally set itself on fire, the lightning dispersed by the odd shadows of the rain.

At this point all pretense fell out the window.

“MC?” Yoosung looked over as you’d dropped the remote and drawn your legs up to your chest, burying your face in your knees, all thoughts blocked out. “MC.” Yoosung said a little louder, putting his own remote down on the coffee table and scooting over to where you were sitting on the couch. “Hey.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, something vaguely uncomfortable considering the position you both were sitting in, but still a welcome presence, a bit of comfort making its way past your wall of fear.

“Not a huge fan of thunderstorms I see.” He said when the storm had calmed down a bit. You let out a shaky sort of laugh. Understatement of the century, wouldn’t you think?

“I have an idea!” Yoosung ran out of the room, leaving you to curl yourself up again, until he came back, a pair of headphones in hand.

“These are the best noise cancelling headphones I own, and they cost a fortune so they’d better work.” He placed them over your ears, and immediately you noticed how muffled the sound became. Evidently it must’ve shown on your face, because Yoosung smiled even wider, nodding gently before picking up his remote again.

As the storm continued so did the gaming. At some point you guys ended up thrown about the couch, cuddling each other, and occasionally knocking elbows when the gaming got intense. When things were finally over you two lay there a little longer, although you’d taken the headphones off.

“Thank you.” You whispered, content.

“For what?” Yoosung smiled. “That’s what boyfriends are for.”

“Not all boyfriends.” You countered “You’re special. The best boyfriend one could ask for.”

And you meant it.

Jaehee

I imagine both you and Jaehee not being huge fans of thunderstorms. They frightened you, and to Jaehee the volume gave her a headache, not to mention the fact you were both living in a cheap apartment on the ground floor while the coffee shop’s purchase was still new; and the whole structure had this obnoxious habit of vibrating with both the lightning and thunder, leaving everything a bit discombobulated and very unpleasant.

The coffee shop wasn’t much better really, open as it was, the whole front being 85% glass and only 15% brick.

So when you both checked your phones and saw that storms were on their way it was all about planning.

Since you couldn’t afford to close the shop for the week you instead put a large display in the windows, putting up cardboard trees, birds, and whatever else would block most of the view.

You went through the store, making sure everything unnecessary was unplugged.

Really it was probably a bit overkill, or at least Jumin and Seven certainly thought it was, but hey better safe than sorry.

The apartment was given the same treatment, blinds and shutters were closed, toasters and charging cords were unplugged, and Aspirin and earplugs were stocked up.

The week of the storms was really incredibly unpleasant, with you two sneaking in hugs and kisses whenever the line of customers was small, squeezing each other’s hands when a particularly bright streak of lightning flashed, or when the thunder seemed to become unbearable.

No dawdling home this week, much to the chagrin of both of you, who’d taking to park exploring and other such mundane things that both you and Jaehee had missed out on, her due to work and you due to being shut up in Rika’s apartment for eleven days.

Nevertheless neither of you were particularly keen to venture out in the middle of a storm, so instead you two headed home, a night’s worth of musicals and cuddling ahead of you.

Dinner was spent in front of the tv, although usually you two usually made a point to eat at the dining table it was in the most windowed room in the house and thus not meant to be.

Zen’s beautiful tenor might not have been enough to completely drown out the storms, but it was certainly a help, not to mention the large doses of cuddles you were giving one another.

But really the best part about it was just being able to talk freely about your fears, you both having the reference that those who don’t suffer with what’s widely considered an irrational fear in modern times don’t understand.

And that was really what kept it together for you two. You’ll always be there for one another, you’ll always understand one another.

Eventually the clock struck the hour and you both realized that not only would there be work tomorrow, but musicals can’t much be enjoyed when you’re only paying half attention.

You got ready for bed, both making a final sweep for plugged in appliances that might burn out if there should be an energy surge.

Right before you two drifted off to sleep you gave Jaehee a small kiss. “What was that for?” She whispered. Everything was so beautifully comfortable, so cozy and intimate, and your happiness in that moment overpowered all fear.

“I just love you, I love you so much.” You replied. Jaehee blushed, but returned the kiss.

“I love you too. Forever.”

Jumin

It’s not that you hid it from him because you were embarrassed, well at least that wasn’t the main reason. It was more Jumin’s habit of blowing everything out of proportion, to the point of hindrance. That was really what you were afraid of, you just needed calm, need comfort, not yoga or whatever was to be the cure. And not that Jumin couldn’t or wouldn’t give you comfort, but the likelihood of him giving you calm was maybe a bit more debatable.

So you tried to keep it hidden, mentioned nothing of it on your way out the door in the morning, avoiding the topic in the messenger, even when Seven started to go on and on about windspeed – did the bastard know something?

Things seemed to be going… okay? I mean they weren’t great, you were constantly pushing down the urge to hide in a closet or something, but hey Jumin wasn’t aware yet. Success?

The trip home was certainly unpleasant, and the text that your husband was working late again certainly didn’t seem promising, but hey there’d be Elizabeth, and the bedroom had amazing blackout curtains. So, yeah, it’d be fineeee.

At least it would be if the damn penthouse didn’t have windows for walls. Something that certainly wasn’t normal or part of the regular plan.

Nor was it really possible to take a nap with the thunder so loud and your thoughts running high, really it’d probably be better on the lower floors if you weren’t so sure of people being there.

At this point the plan became less of “don’t let Jumin know, play it cool” to “survive whatever the cost”, which yes perhaps was also an overreaction on your part, but you knew damn well that all rationality had long fled, and you weren’t about to go chasing after it, that wasn’t what you needed right now. Rationality was also what had you go into a google wormhole about terrifying lightning related accident. Need one say more?

So you picked up a perhaps a bit disgruntled Elizabeth the 3rd, and buried yourself under the covers, stroking her fur at regulated intervals, trying desperately to pay attention to the video you’d loaded on your phone, to less than perfect success.

You wouldn’t say that you were dozing when Jumin came home, it was more like you were so deep in your fears that you really didn’t have room to pay attention to anything else.

“MC?” Jumin was instantly alert when you didn’t run to greet him at the door, something that had really become tradition between the two of you. Him being also a bit of a worrier – and a bit being perhaps a gracious way of saying it, lovely though it can be – his first thoughts were that you’d hit your head and passed out somewhere, but the fact that Elizabeth had also not come to greet him clued him in that you two were most likely holed up somewhere, perhaps napping, as had happened a few times before.

His surprise then when you turned out to be in bed, distinctly not unconscious or asleep, holding onto Elizabeth like a vice, was really immense.

“Darling, is something wrong?” You knew he meant something rather more akin to “Something is definitely wrong and I’m very worried and hope you tell me, if not I might become a horrendous paranoiac and never stop bugging you but I also want to be polite about it.”

You folded quite quickly, deciding that it really wasn’t worth it, you were in such a state, and the anxiety was still in complete control of your brain, excuses weren’t about to be made.

In a moment Jumin had enveloped you in a hug, which you were glad to accept, discreetly kicking his phone away hoping that he’d not notice it and get it in his head to send for a meditative trainer or some such thing, since that wasn’t what you were looking for, at least not at the moment.

Thankfully though he seemed more focused on your wellbeing, asking you to talk through your anxiety, gently drawing circles on your back in an attempt to get rid of excess tension. It felt good to be able to release your stream of consciousness, even if it was a bit embarrassing. Every time you started feeling a bit overwhelming you’d insert an apology here and there but Jumin would simply shake his head and assure you it was fine

“After all, you were so patient and understanding when I went through a crisis of consciousness, when all my emotions were suddenly flooding my mind. You listened to me then, the least I can do is listen to you now.”

After you’d exhausted your thoughts and you two had laid there a bit, cuddled together, basking in each other’s presence, you two went to the kitchen, where Jumin insisted he’d make dinner himself.

You weren’t happy to be in the windowed room again, but one flick of a discreet switch and they were suddenly shuttered closed.

“You can do that?!”

“Of course?”

“Ugh, the idle rich.” You shook your head and Jumin feigned horror. This act went on throughout dinnertime, another thing to help soothe your nerves, as well as Elizabeth, who was being awfully nice, curled up in your lap.

Every clap of thunder and Jumin would hold your hand or give you a kiss or hug, again trying to distract you.

Afterwards it was watching trashy soap operas – really you couldn’t understand why Jumin adored these shows so much, he really did secretly have a flare for the dramatics – and more cuddling.

As the night got later and you got sleepier you realized that, though the anxiety wasn’t completely gone, you really were quite content.

“Ah, I wouldn’t mind this every time it stormed.”

Jumin chuckled at that. “Why not? Anything to make you comfortable and happy.”

“You’re going to spoil me terribly you know.”

“Again, why not? Comfort isn’t spoiling someone, and if it was I’d spoil you rotten. You deserve the universe, I’m just giving what I can.”

And really the comfort he gave you was worth five universes at that moment, but wasn’t he always worth that much?

Saeyoung

Saeyoung’s reaction to your fear would probably initially be teasing.

Not because he thought it was funny, more his brain still found sincerity a hard thing to grapple with, and he found his knee jerking reaction be to try and make fun, enough fun for you to forget about everything.

You knew this of course, had long ago learned his patterns, his mannerisms and habits, and initially you tried to play along with it, after all the only reason he knew you were afraid of thunderstorms was because he’d caught you running into the closet on the CCTV in Rika’s apartment. If it weren’t for that you would’ve been perfectly happy with him never finding out. Surely you could humor him a bit.

Well anxiety has a funny way of sharpening one’s nerves, and by the sixth joke you were ready to pull your hair out, both from Saeyoung and from the storm.

“Hey Saeyoung? I really do appreciate what you’re doing, don’t get me wrong, but I… I don’t think this is going to be the way to sort it out.”

“Oh… I see.” Saeyoung faltered. Saeran, who was also not a fan and was thus gaming, probably with the volume at unhealthy rates, still managed to snort out a “I could’ve told you that.” Saeyoung shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry MC… I, uhm. Yeah…” For a moment you both sat on his horrifically battered couch, the tension rising. Saeyoung screwed his face up in thought, before launching himself towards you, wrapping you up in a huge hug.

“I.. Saeyoung-?”

“Cuddles are a miracle cure.” He said, kissing you on the forehead. “They’ll chase away the storms, just you wait, and in the meantime, how about you teach me how to make something other than sandwiches.”

“I know you know how to cook.” You pointed out, at least happier with this approach, but Saeyoung shook his head.

“I forgot. I can now only make ham sandwiches, and that is truly a sad fate. Won’t you help me? Oh cook in shining armor.”

You rolled your eyes at that “Isn’t being the hero more of your route?” But agreed to make something with him.

Saeyoung really put everything into the “I forgot act”, and you soon found yourself distracted by his antics, peeling onions with a vegetable peeler, “accidentally” getting flour in your hair, tackling you with hugs and kisses the minute thunder or lightning even attempted an interruption. You found yourself either laughing or breathless from his attention, and when your anxiety was too difficult to ignore you allowed Seven to wrap you in a hug as you buried your head in his shoulder, his arms acting as a barrier for the sound.

Dinner took a horrendously long time to cook, something Saeran was sure to point out, but it really did help. As you two were cleaning up dishes Saeyoung paused for a moment.

“Being a hero really isn’t my thing you know.”

“Huh?” You’d sorta forgotten the earlier conversation amidst all the antics.

“You saved me MC, from myself, my own destruction. The least I could is chase away a few thunderstorms. I’d do anything to make you happy. So, I hope that you can be happy.

“What a silly thing to say.” You said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m already so very happy, so incredibly glad to have you in my life. Indeed, if this isn’t happiness then there is no such thing.”

He really was your hero, your knight in peculiar armor. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

V/Jihyun Kim

V hated thunderstorms. Although he’d agreed to get his vision fixed, the date of the surgery was still some months off, and in the meantime every storm sent him in disarray, the sudden loudness of the thunder a disconcerting reminder of his own vulnerability, the fact that if even one thing in his life shifted he was likely to run right into it.

Being someone who had such a visceral hate, he was quick to become aware of your anxiety as well. It was something he just picked up on, before you had the chance to even think about hiding it from him.

“I see I’m not the only one who hates when it storms.”

You weren’t really surprised by his fear, he’d made it quite clear how he disliked to be reminded of the vulnerability that came from being blind, his eyes were already an ever present reminder of his past, a reminder of the feelings that had rotted inside him, which were so difficult to reconcile with.

So during the storms he ended up focusing most of his nervous energy on you, preferring that to morbid thoughts about the path his life had taken.

Coincidentally you tended to have the same reaction, and thus stormy days, though far from pleasant, became a semi-pleasant ritual, full of affection and comfort.

You pointed out the lightning and counted the miles out loud for him, something that helped him ground himself in the world, feel a little more in control of the situation, and in return he kept up a steady stream of conversation, telling you how your fears weren’t silly, how much it mattered to him that you were happy, and all the things you’d do together when the storms passed.

Sometimes you two turned on a podcast, or a video whose audio V had heard multiple times before, another exercise in familiarity that helped comfort you two. He also didn’t mind whether you kept the lights on or turned them off, only wishing to keep at least one window open, to keep track of the storm’s progress.

He also was in the habit of singing or humming at random intervals, his voice kept you in the moment, rather than in an endless loop of “what ifs”.

By the end of the storm you two were often exhausted, which is why they so often ended with you two tangled together, already half asleep.

One such time you were about to sleep, only barely awake to nod when V said the storm had passed.

“Jihyun,” you mumbled, hearing a hum in return. “I love you.”

V smiled, hearing that from you always felt like a moment of rejuvenation, of sudden clarity.

Kissing your forehead he hugged you a little tighter.

“I love you too.”

Saeran

Saeran loved storms. Loved the sheer, raw, uninhibited power they exuded, the proof of how natural ruled above all.

You knew that. You also knew that storms were, in fact, the bane of your existence, and that you’re rather die than sit up and watch them with him.

But you also didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to be a source of unhappiness in his life, so when Saeran eagerly looked out the window and called out “MC! It’s thundering!” You reluctantly dragged yourself over to watch with him.

At first it was alright if you focused on him more than on the outside, the awe and glee he took in watching the rain was endearing, the happiness marked so clearly and without inhibition. It was something that almost took your breath away in how beautiful it was, the joy of somehow who’d had so little of it.

Then the first clap of thunder arrived and you’d nearly sprained your wrist, slipping on the counter and banging your arm.

Saeran’s attention was immediately turned away from the thunderstorm and he looked at you curiously.

“Are you alright MC?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, I’m fine.” You didn’t want him to know. It made him so happy, how could you ever take away from that, holding you bruised elbow you excused yourself to the bathroom for a moment, saying you needed make sure nothing was serious.

Of course that excuses could only last for so long, but the bathroom seemed such a comfort compared to the windowed rooms, and you lost track of all sense of time or space, curled up in a ball, leaning against the cold wall, the linoleum tiling keeping you grounded.

Eventually however it came to an end, and there was a short knock before Saeran turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“Something wrong?” He asked, immediately realizing the answer to that question after looking at your position. Kneeling down to face you he cupped your cheek. “Thunderstorms?”

You nodded, despite yourself. You really didn’t want to take this from him. But he didn’t seem to have felt like anything was taken, instead kissing you on the forehead and opening his arms for you to envelope yourself in them, something you did gratefully.

He held you, rocking you slightly, whispering random bits of words, random pieces of song, anything to keep your anxiety lower. Nudging the door shut once more you two stayed there for a while, and you finally felt yourself calm down.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

“For what?” His tone was that of genuine confusion.

“For taking away watching thunderstorms from you. I don’t want to take anything away from you of course, I really don’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh MC…” Saeran peppered your face with kisses. “You haven’t taken anything away from me. I can still watch the thunderstorms, can still love them. Your fear isn’t something to be ashamed of, we all fear things in our lives, all have things we’d rather throw aside. I’m always here for you, always. It’s something I chose, and would choose over and over again. And that choice doesn’t mean I cannot chose to love thunderstorms, or watch them. It just means I have to make sure you’re comfortable as well. Besides, I wouldn’t want to do something that made you uncomfortable, not if I could do something about it. So don’t talk like that anymore, okay?”

You nodded, feeling reassured and slightly sheepish. He really was too good for words.

You two stayed in the bathroom until it became too uncomfortable, when you moved to the bed. It was a lovely evening, the storms having mellowed into a gentle rain.

Wrapped in Saeran’s arms you suddenly felt such a rush of emotions overcome you, contentment, bashfulness, love. Especially love.

You loved Saeran so much. And you always would.

Vanderwood

You’d really rather not tell Vanderwood.

You two were the cynics of the group, sarcastic, unfazed, or rather you hid your general emotions to the larger group in a swath of wit and humor. You really didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid of what was essentially a fear that had outlived its purpose.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Vanderwood with your true feelings, indeed sometimes you felt as if Vanderwood was the only person you could trust with your true feelings, a sentiment they had reciprocated multiple times.

It was moreso you already knew how much people saw your fear as overreacting. Didn’t need your partner to join the bandwagon of slight bafflement and bemusement, even if they couldn’t help themselves.

So there you were, sitting on the couch, storm on full display, trying not to dig your head into the side of the lazyboy as Vanderwood sat typing away on their computer.

Unfortunately the storm grew more and more violent, and you quickly grew more and more uncomfortable, your plans of nonchalance having really taken a critical hit.

Before you could think of a proper excuse to go into the bedroom closet and have a bit of a scream a huge clap of thunder shook the complex and the book you’d held in your hands plummeted to the ground.

Vanderwood immediately got up and shut the blinds. “I forgot you don’t like storms.” They said, closing the last of the blinds before turning around to your startled face.

“You know I don’t like thunderstorms?!”

“Was I not supposed to?” They looked vaguely confused, and not a bit amused.

“No.” You buried your hands in your palms.

“No I was or no I wasn’t?”

“You weren’t.” You groaned. “It’s embaraassing.”

“Why should it be embarrassing? Look, MC.” They walked over to you, taking your hands in theirs. “There are a lot of embarrassing things people are in life. Of which I’m at least half of them. I cannot say a lot of things with great confidence, but I can say this. You aren’t the least bit embarrassing for having an incredibly common and practical fear.”

“A fear that should’ve died out with the invention of bricks.” You muttered.

“Perhaps. But we both know that’s not how it works.” They replied. “So don’t feel the need to hide something like that. Okay?”

You nodded and Vanderwood smiled, before giving you a hug, something which you gladly reciprocated.

It was a quiet evening, one of easy cooking and laughing at miscellaneous videos, of making fun of spy shows and swapping stories.

In the end you probably shouldn’t’ve been so surprised.

Vanderwood was an amazing partner, caring, funny, observant, loving.

Perhaps it was okay to have such a fear around them. And if it was okay with Vanderwood than everyone else would have to suck it up, because really two people’s opinions mattered to you on the fact, yours and theirs. And in this instance you’d found yourselves completely in accord.

#so... fucking... long #I'm so tired #was gonna write request tonight but I have to sleep #hope people like this at all lolol #if not might cry #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger headcanons #fanfiction #headcanons #my writing #rewrite

40 notes · View notes

lordeasriel · 4 years ago

Text

hdm theory: dust is actually harmful

Dust is actually harmful. Not in the sense of being sin, but it is ultimately what damages people from different universes to stay where they don’t belong. Stay tuned for what I consider to be wildest, craziest, most senseless theory I’ve ever written. Keep in mind this isn’t super serious, I’m aware there are gaps in this theory (because I accidentally countered my own arguments as I was writing lmao) and beware spoilers for both trilogies. Under the cut because it’s long-ish.

Mrs. Coulter’s research.

We know Mrs. Coulter created the General Oblation Board to research and examine the readings of Dust in children and how to stop it from settling on them. Outside her other personal goals, which included being in the good graces of the Magisterium, she had an interest in Dust as a scholar, and while she has a lot of dubious actions, it’s fair to say she, at the very least, believed that Dust did something to people. While personally I do not consider Mrs. Coulter a woman of faith, she was raised in a society controlled by the Church - and she has personal dealings with them - so it’s safe to assume she was raised in the dogma that “Dust is Bad” and she believes in it, because why not? I mean, there is a lot of reasoning behind this claim, but none of it is important for this specific theory.

The Magisterium has the narrative, after Dust was discovered and studied by Boris Rusakov, that the particles are a representation of Sin. A lot of the discoveries surrounding Dust connected it to the fact adults seemed more connected with it than children, which only served to help the story that Dust affected children less - especially before puberty - because they were innocent. Once puberty hit, and the daemon settled, a stronger connection with the particles was established and the role of puberty in the “Dust is Evil” story is very big, especially because puberty and sexuality go hand-in-hand for the most part and the Church admonishes the idea of sexuality as a whole (it’s a bit more complicated than just this, but I hope you get what I mean). All of these things contributed to how ingrained the idea of Dust as something bad was perpetuated across Lyra’s world.

It is also rather convenient for the Church to demonise Dust, as they themselves seem to believe it is a bad thing - considering how they are influenced by the Kingdom of Heaven - but their role in making the situation even more suitable for themselves is understandable. If you were to tell an average person about Dust, they simply would acknowledge it as Something or even worse, not know about it, but to associate Dust with Sin - in a world inherently Christian, where people understand that Sin = Bad - makes it a lot easier to spread fear and control the populace. It’s as ingenious as it is evil, truth be told.

With all this in mind, we know that canonically Dust is Not Evil, it doesn’t represent the idea of Sin - or at least, it doesn’t convey Sin as something evil, but rather something the Church is afraid of - but it’s far more complicated and far reaching than that. Dust is everywhere, it shapes everything that has any value, being consciousness or angels or the whole fabric of the universe. However, they are not wrong in claiming that children attract less Dust for a reason or that the daemon settling is the connection one should look for when looking for Dust. In fact, while absolutely unethical, Mrs. Coulter’s research was very close to what makes Dust special, except she turned it to serve the Magisterium’s truth instead of actually looking into it with an impartial mindset.

Dust is everywhere, like I said, including in other universes. It doesn’t just linger in space, it lingers across dimensions and it composes the very fabric of the multiverse. In Will’s world it is known by many names, including shadows and dark matter, and for the mulefa it was known as sraf. I’m not tackling the mulefa’s world here for now, so keep in mind the Shadows and dark matter, because this is more important for this theory.

Even now dark matter is rather elusive as things go in science of our world, but ultimately it is a great part of the composition of the universe, and within the nature of His Dark Materials, it is a parallel to what Dust is.

One of the biggest differences between our world and Lyra’s, is the existence of a daemon. While daemons are representative of a person’s soul and another half of a being, they are not exposed in our world like they are in Lyra’s. In fact, they live within, which is why despite the fear Lyra has when meeting Will for the first time, she quickly calms down because she realises he isn’t missing his daemon, like Tony Makarios was, for example.

It is somewhere within him, and because a person can feel the vibes of someone daemonless (which I talked about in my visible daemon theory), she knows he isn’t separated or completely devoid of a soul, which immediately makes him “human” in her eyes. But the question is, why? Why does Lyra’s world have people with their daemon exposed, taking a physical shape? From the three worlds we visit (Cittagazze, the Mulefa world and Will’s) none of them have their souls exposed like the daemons, despite the mulefa having a bit of a different relationship with Dust with their wheels, and the seed pod oil and all that.

Having a physical soul is anything but practical. You’re exposed, your daemon betrays your feelings most of the time, and sometimes you don’t even get along, which creates conflicts that can lead to your separation, which then again creates even more conflicts, because you become an outcast in a society that thinks being daemonless makes you inhuman.

What if the daemons, exposed like they are and in tune with Dust - as it has been proved by scholars in Lyra’s world - are a lightning rod for Dust and its effects?

Marcel’s Truth

Before we go into the lightning rod theory, we need to discuss Marcel’s hunt for the truth and how it ties to this whole shenanigan.

As I mentioned, Mrs. Coulter’s research was focused on just fixing the problem of Dust in the name of the Church, that is, fixing how Sin was spread through people. Also like I said, I don’t think she believed Dust was really Sin, but she knew something happened when Dust settled on children who were going through puberty, and adults. There was a lot of debate, especially in the academic and scientific field, about the nature of Dust, not everyone believed the Sin theory without question, although speaking openly about it was not possible.

She knew there was something going on - many other scholars knew that too - and her choice was to try and cut off the Dust connection. That is a reasonable response, when you consider how they were taught that Dust was bad and sinful and it damaged humans; you cut the source, technically Dust stops interacting. However, as it is shown, once the daemon bond is absolutely severed, even if the person survives, they are nothing but whole. They feel dead, they act dead, for all accounts; devoid of will and curiosity, essentially sick and incoherent, pretty much the opposite of what attracts Dust and what Dust represents.

This idea of a forced severing is interesting when you see that people who willingly separated do not have any of the collateral damage the Bolvangar children had - or the zombis, for that matter. They still have will, the ability to choose and think coherently, they are alive and well, despite some of them being emotionally damaged, which is a reasonable response. But it’s nothing that truly impairs them from being alive. This is material for a secondary theory, but I think it’s important to consider daemons are people too, they are their own person, with their own desires, their own free will, and because of that, they are allowed to walk away (and so is their human) if they wish to, without destroying their counterpart and therefore destroying themselves. This is what free will means, in essence; and it’s why I choose to use severing and separation as different things (I don’t remember if this is canon, though lol).

With that in mind, we know Marisa chose destroying the Dust connection as a solution, because essentially they thought Dust was bad, harmful. It’s a centuries old dogma, one that is being shaken up in the events of TSC. Marcel’s truth speech changes, well, everything. He doesn’t seem to have an interest in destroying the source of rose oil, an oil that interacts with Dust and it shows something about the nature of the particles that unnerved the Church.

“First, we could suppress all knowledge of it, by rigorous investigation, by ruthless force. (…) The second possibility is to go to the root of the problem and wipe it out. (…) The amount of rose oil that’s ever come this far is very small; supplies of it would dry up and cease altogether, and the problem would wither away. That solution would take longer and cost more than the first, but we could do it, and it would be final. (…) There is a third option. We could embrace the facts. The roses exist; they show us something we’ve always denied, something that contradicts the deepest truths we know about the Authority and his creation; there is no doubt about that. So we could admit it boldly, contradict the teachings of millennia, proclaim a new truth. (…) I haven’t told you the fourth option. Revealing the truth in the way I described would not work. There are too many habits, ways of thought, institutions, that are committed to the way things are and always have been. The truth would be swept away at once. Instead, we should delicately and subtly undermine the idea that truth and facts are possible in the first place. Once the people have become doubtful about the truth of anything, all kinds of things will be open to us.” Marcel’s adapted speech. TSC, ch. 16.

Marcel’s points are all coherent and valid (not necessarily good things though), but I wanna focus on the fact he is far more inclined into changing the Magisterium’s core values than actually trying to destroy the roses, which refuted everything they preach about. We don’t really know what exactly the roses do, other than interact with Dust and make it visible, but we do know that whatever it is, it worries everyone that knows about it.

Personally, I think Marcel is right and that he is inclined to go for the fourth option, which is to create doubt, then reshape the way people think, and a lot of that implies he’s talking about how Dust is perceived, or Sin, in essence. If the rose oil truly reveals the nature of Dust, and that it isn’t evil or sinful, this means the Magisterium needs a headstart in protecting its image of protectors of truth, before everyone turns on them for lying. That, of course, it’s an utopia; like Marcel points it out himself, the rose oil is not that big in quantity for it to spread across the entire world, but even if just groups of people become enlightened in the Truth (whatever that is, because honestly, God only knows what Philman is planning), it could still threaten the sovereignty of the Church.

What’s really important here, however, is that Marcel wants to create a new truth, and assuming he’s trying to reestablish what Sin means, this puts him on the very end of the Dust spectrum: Dust is not sin, not evil, but rather something else entirely, benign, neutral, attached to what makes humanity, human and so on. More importantly, this ties well enough with the idea that I’ll propose in a moment, that Dust is harmful, and that daemons are the only thing actually protecting them. He could, in theory of course, promote the idea that being separated from your daemon is actually good.

The reason why I’m pointing this out now, it’s because it contradicts the main idea of this theory, but I believe this is important to highlight: Dust isn’t Evil. That is canon, and is not widely known by the people in Lyra’s world, but while Dust isn’t Evil, I believe that it is harmful to different degrees.

Dust is Harmful

I know it feels like that wasn’t necessary, but I felt like I needed to put these points on the table, because they are important in their own way. You see, both Marisa and Marcel are dealing with the same subject in different ways, for different reasons, but whatever the outcome of their research, both of them are not truly examining the things that do matter about Dust. Why is it everywhere? Why do settled daemons attract it more? Why are there no side-effects to its exposure? Those are important questions that no one in Lyra’s world seems to be asking, and that could be for a number of reasons, but mainly because the dogma that Dust is Sinful makes these scientists not have an objective eye upon the subject. They are biased; they’re seeking a cure, not a means to harness it, to understand it.

The reason why Dust doesn’t affect people in Lyra’s world is because of their daemons. You see, Dust is attracted to consciousness or anything man-made (like the Knife, or the Alethiometer, I’ll even go as far as say the rose oil, despite the oil not being exactly man-made), and the daemons are in all their essence, a personification of consciousness. Without a daemon, a person cannot be alive; this means that, even separated, people still survive because their daemons are still conscious. Consciousness in Lyra’s world is not associated with the mind, but with the soul, which means the daemons, and they are, in consequence, a magnet of Dust.

Daemons are unique in their own composition: while they possess a physical body, once they are dead (be it their human first or them first), they disappear and leave no trace of their existence. They also do not go to the land of the dead and there are places where the daemons can’t go in Lyra’s world itself (the witch route in Siberia, the Karamakan journey to the red building). This is what I propose:

Lyra’s world has a lot more incoming of Dust than any of the other worlds we have ever visited. This is a bit of a cheap example, but you cannot find dark matter on Earth (as far as my knowledge goes, I genuinely did not go that far into this subject), for example, but Dust does descend upon Lyra’s world and it can be seen and interacted with appropriately through the right means. They are more keen in studying it than any of the worlds we see; for Cittagazze, they only used the potential of Dust to create a knife; in the Mulefa world, they are in tune with Dust, even as the flow is dying, and they accept, but have no active curiosity in studying it (which could be that they are still not at the Tech age they need to be to study this, but this is speculation). Lyra’s world is far more interested in Dust than all of the others, possibly because Dust surrounds everything they do. More importantly, because Dust is tied, intimately, with something they consider sacred, natural, intimate in itself: their daemons.

Dust is the reason why people cannot live in different universes. Every person has their own consciousness, and that is what calibrates you (for lack of a better word) to be exposed to Dust. Everyone is, the books are very clear on stating Dust is everywhere, so everyone is exposed, but to each and every single world, there’s a different amount and how it interacts with people. Will’s world, Cittagazze, and even the Mulefa world, they all have people whose daemons are within, not exposed; they all probably are used to being exposed less to Dust. This is why John Parry gets sick while living in Lyra’s world, and this is why Will and Lyra ultimately cannot stay together. Dust damages people who are not “calibrated” to interact with their ways from a particular world. Lyra’s world has A LOT of Dust, which means it does a lot more damage than for example, Will’s world.

Daemons are the reason why people in Lyra’s world survive the interaction with Dust. You see, having consciousness exposed like they are makes the daemons a proper lighting rod, or a Dust rod if you may. They can handle the interaction with Dust without being damaged because they do not share the same physical composition as their human, and this is something that is particular to the person, it’s a fix from Nature to preserve life. This is why for example, Lord Boreal seems mostly unbothered by his constant multiverse travels. Not only he doesn’t seem to stay long in the different worlds, but he is used to a lot more intake of Dust than Will’s world provides.

I know what you’re thinking, probably: but what about John Parry? or Will? They also got daemons. And yes, they do have exposed daemons that they acquired under different circumstances. Note that I used exposed, because Mary also has a daemon, in a way, that she is taught to see and that she spends a considerable time with the mulefa. But, her experience would have been different because her daemon is still inside.

John Parry’s daemon was acquired when he arrived in Lyra’s world, although it’s hard to say exactly when Sayan-Kötör showed up, but the text implies it was early on his arrival. This is probably the way the world has to try and preserve people that don’t belong there, by giving them the tool they need to harness the extra exposure of Dust. In TSK, John mentions he’s been in Lyra’s world for roughly twelve years, and I think that if he didn’t have his daemon, he probably would’ve gotten a lot sicker, much sooner.

Will’s daemon doesn’t show up when he arrives in Lyra’s world and there are two things to consider here. One of them is that Philman’s plot required him to have Will only find out about his daemon in the end, so showing up sooner would have wrecked the plot. This is probably the actual explanation lmao The second reason is that Will’s daemon wasn’t settled yet, and because of that, Dust didn’t affect him as much, so having an unsettled daemon that wasn’t showing up made no actual difference. He barely got damaged by Dust.

By the end, of course, Will’s daemon settles (although Kirjava is already exposed after the Land of the Dead excursion), so now he actually gets affected by Dust, which is why he will die in a decade or so if he stayed in Lyra’s world.

Before I finish, a few things to consider:

This theory proposes that Lyra’s world citizens could in fact live longer in Will’s world, and this conflicts with the actual canon, of course, as we know they don’t stay together because it is said they’ll both have short lives. However, I do believe a good fix for this gap in the theory is that, while Lyra could live a little longer in Will’s world, doesn’t she mean she should because she wouldn’t be happy; the exposure to Dust she’d receive in his world will be too low in comparison to what she would have been used to. In TSC, there is a passage of Lyra in Smyrna, I believe, and she’s watching the streets, observing as people live their lives.

The street below her was saturated in Dust. Humans lives were generating it, being sustained and enriched by it; it made everything glow as if it was touched with gold. TSC, ch. 27

So, while Dust is harmful depending on where you come from, it is also necessary to make life what it is. Like I’ve pointed out earlier, Dust does something to people, and as it’s been proved in the books, it isn’t evil or sinful, but rather an essential part of life. So, for Lyra to exist in Will’s world, she simply would have been miserable the whole time, which is why it’s better for her not to risk staying in his world just because she could survive longer. It’s not a life worth living.

With this in mind, assuming you’ve read TSC, you’ll know Lyra is under an extreme melancholia, and this is mostly due to the fact her relationship with Pan is wounded, Pan being her lighting rod to Dust. Not only they’re sore with each other, emotionally, but one has to take into consideration that they are physically separated.

So, just food for thought but, if their bond is split like that - and like I said before, they still survive well enough even separated - it’s possible that separation makes it more difficult for Dust to affect the human, instead going more directly onto the daemon, and their connection, being dim thanks to the separation, makes the Dust exchange between them to be lesser than what it is between people who are whole, so to speak.

Taking this into consideration, it’s possible to notice how pretty much every person we see that is 1) separated or 2) daemonless, they’re all unhappy, stoic, or simply not as happy and comfortable with life as anyone else who has their daemon. It’s not that depression is exclusive to people without daemons, but these people have had their means to communicate with Dust damaged, in a way, it’s a thinner connection so to speak, and therefore they are deprived, or at least they are touched less by Dust, which results in them being not happy or feeling like they don’t fit in in the world. After all, Dust is all about what makes life worth living, and these people simply are out of touch with that.

And I think that’s it for this theory! If you’ve read all of this, bless you and thank you, and feel free to add your thoughts to it if you have any!

#hdm meta: dust #hdm theory #his dark materials #the book of dust #this took me forever #but here we are #meta by effie

50 notes · View notes

gabrielitas · 4 years ago

Note

phew it's good to know i'm boy the only one super behind lmao

alright answering questions and asking some more because i have a funny little group of questions that mean nothing but i like to ask

alright so i do bias soonyoung 🙄🙄 didn't think you'd guess so early. i also like seokmin and minghao 🥴🤤 aLSO, WHY HAS SEUNGCHEOL BEEN LOOKING SO CUTE RECENTLY I CANT HANDLE 😩😩

outside of kpop i may or may not have had an emo phase (read: fall out boy, panic!at the disco, my chemical romance). i may or may not still listen emo music. i also LOVE CONAN GRAYYY. idk if he's still indie but i love indie too! probably one of my favorite genres though is classical (instrumental if you wanna get technical 🙄 been yelled at bc cLaSsiCaL iS a TiMe PeRiOd)

the best of us had emo phases ☝️ mine is a little longer lasting three years in middle school. due to this, fall out boy is one of my favorite artists! i’m also a big tchaikovsky fan, and i like doja cat a lot too!

in response to your question about 1518 strasbourg, this is when and where the dancing plague of 1518 happened dnsbsbshja. it's where the phrase "dance till you die" originated lmao. i think it'd be funny to witness this/take part in it. aside from that, id probably fuck with california in 1849 because the gold rush🧎‍♀️, france in the 1880s, or america in the 1980/1990s! i’m a history nerd courtesy of my father, so i choose all my time periods based off some of my favorite historical events! 1880s for architecture mostly, gold rush because lawlessness and the "wild west", and the 80s for the cold war :)

the night is beautiful if you take the time to live it. for me, my favorite time across the board is lunch time-12:00 ish to 3:00 just because the sun is highest and i feel happiest! i like the night when i go out on bike rides because i feel alive/ like i’m not wasting my teen years

GIRL IM NORTHEAST US TOO DJNSBSBSVABWB #goals lmao

i have 1 sister and she's super annoying🙄 i also have 2 cats and a dog (i consider them my siblings)

the most recent show i binged and finished was criminal minds, and i tried supernatural but it's just so bad i cant get past season 11. i’m working on hannibal right now!

the last book i really enjoyed was the summer i turned pretty! i’m a sucker for romance books 😩

questions i've got:

- do you have any siblings or pets?

- do you play any instruments?

- what's your favorite font?

- how many pillows and stuffed animals do you sleep with? (i have too many to count)

- would you rather live in an urban, suburban, or rural setting?

I FRIKIN KNEW U BIASED SOONYOUNG UR VIBES R SO HORANGHE I COULD JUST TELL and i gotta say ur the second person who’s had both minghao and soonyoung on ur bias list and i just find that so funny cuz they’re polar opposites to me (also u have impeccable taste with minghao that boy is my ult and has my whole heart) AND OMG RIGHT??? seungcheol needs to *CHILL*😤

omg yes conan gray😫 this is gonna sound whiny but heather was one of my favorite songs of his before it became a tiktok trend💅

and yes the best of us *did* have emo phases, mine lasted from late 8th grade into the first half of freshman year, so it was kinda short lived but it still happened lol

also, seeing tchaikovsky and doja cat next to each other in a sentence is so funny (but in a weird way i get it lol) i’m not the *biggest* classical/instrumental fan, but i have def used it as study music when songs with lyrics r just too distracting. back to doja tho!! have u listened to her new album?? do u have a fav song off of it? (i haven’t listened to all of it but i do have a couple that i rlly like)

omg how did i not recognize that u were talking abt the dancing plague!!!!!🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ idk if u watch buzzfeed unsolved or watcher but they have a series called puppet history and the episode on the dancing plague is one of my favorites! also omg yes another history nerd who knows abt history b/c of her dad!!!! i’m prob most knowledgeable abt wwii, the civil rights movement in the us, and the spanish civil war cuz those r my dads main interests and i was sat down in front of documentaries abt those topics at the age of like, 3 lol. and wanting to experience the wild west is such a perfect and iconic era to want to live in, and wanting to experience the cold war is so funny (b/c i’m sure the ppl who were living it without knowing the ending like us felt the exact opposite lol)

and yes the night is so beautiful when u just give it ur attention. like, on my birthday it was raining and i didn’t have school the next day (and my birthdays i’m may so it was pretty warm) so i just went outside at like, midnight ish and listened to the rain and crocheted and it was truly so nice 😫 also omg last year when covid had us all at home i went for a bike ride almost every day after school to just get out of my room and it was so nice!! it was my bike from when i was like, 12 but i’m 4’11 so i was still able to ride it without a problem lsnsksns

and yes pets r absolutely siblings, my cat prob acts more like s typical sibling than my two younger siblings do lsnsksns (srsly tho my cat is an asshole she fucked up my leg the other day cuz i gave her food late smh)

omg hun season 11?? how many seasons of that goddamn show r there??? i couldn’t get past episode 1😭 (i rlly only started watching it b/c of dean from gilmore girls sksnksns) the show i’m currently bingeing rn tho is downton abbey, as i’m sure u can tell from how much downton shit u had to scroll past to find my answer to ur last ask alskkskjsjs (i’m so so sorry 😭)

ooo that sounds like a rlly good book title, what was it abt? i just finished a secret history (which FUCKED ME UP MY GOD THERES A LOT OF MURDER) and i’m currently working on the sequel to my name is asher lev by chaim potok (who is one of my fav jewish/classic literature authors and also just a rlly good author in general)

for ur questions:

-yes i do have siblings! two younger (one four and a half years younger and one a little over nine years younger than me so i’m the oldest by quite a bit lol) and i do have a pet! my cat sweetie who is an asshole who i love very much

-i took piano for like a year in second grade but then third grade happened and i was rlly bad at math so my parents switched from paying for piano lessons to paying for math tutoring lessons and i now remember literally nothing from piano lessons sksnksns

-i,,, dont think i have a favorite font? i do like to write in cursive and have a collection of calligraphy pens that i bust out on special occasions so there’s that i guess lol

-ok i have two normal pillows, one chair/armrest/pillow thing (idk if that makes sense but that’s the only way i know how to describe it sksnksns), a body pillow, and a single stuffed bear that live on my bed

-ooo so this is difficult for me cuz i technically live in a suburb but we’re *right next* to a major city in my state (like i’m a 20ish min car ride from my states baseball stadium and a 20 min walk to the college of the major city) so this has kinda made me rlly like both? like, i like the quiet of the suburbs but i cant handle not being able to walk to the closest boba shop or movie theatre or bookshop but i also don’t rlly love the noise and lights that there are in the city at night. so idk sksnksns

what do u like more tho? the city or the suburbs? also since u asked the question i’m assuming u have a fav form and i’m now rlly interested in finding out what it is lol

goodnight!❤️ (or good morning if ur seeing this in the morning since i’m answering this at midnight lol)

#🐯 anon #caratanonevent3 #asked and answered

3 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #427

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one enslaved”

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? I wouldn't say anything, I'm pretty sure I'd just break down. Do you play video games? Not really anymore. :/ I probably would, though, if I had the appropriate consoles for games I want. You can only replay PS2 games but so many times before you're tired of them. Do you spend a lot of time with family? No, honestly. Is your house more than two stories tall? It only has one floor. Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I'm not in a relationship, but I have most certainly never hit an s/o, and they've never hit me. I wouldn't tolerate that shit. What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) I'm not. What color is your hairbrush/comb? White. What snacks do you have available in your household atm? Hm. Just some fruity grain and oats bars, as well as cashew ones. We try to keep sweets out of the house. Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? No. Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Holy fuck yes, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? Ha, I'm sure. Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? Some random middle-aged man, like who are you sir. Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My dad. He can be so rude to people sometimes. When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? Not sure. It's been quite a while. Do you play any games on Facebook? No. What would you like to get a degree in? It'd be nice to get a degree in Arts, but yeah... I'm never going back to school. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Pretty much every night. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Play a video game. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Almost without fail. You've got to, it's part of the experience. What genre of films do you like the best? Horror. How many bank accounts do you have? None, actually. Have you ever had the flu? No, thankfully. What is your goal for the next few months? To start getting in shape/losing weight. I seriously hope this gym routine works out. Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? I have seveeeere sleep apnea. It's shocking, I never would've guessed it, though, so the diagnosis (I had a sleep study, so yes, it's legit) was an extreme surprise. I don't snore at all, nor do I like pass out in the middle of something, but I stop breathing A LOT. For a year or two (no, that is not an exaggeration), it caused consistent, horrible, and violent nightmares/terrors. It made sleep frightening to me, and I was never getting a truly restful sleep. Now, I have an APAP mask (like a less extreme version of a CPAP mask) that helps me greatly. I only very rarely am surprised by a more subtle nightmare now. Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. No, thankfully. What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Quality tattoos, for one. And maybe uhhh... idk. We're the kind of family that buys off-brand foods and drinks all the time because it's cheaper, so I can't say that. Maybe health care? Like I wouldn't want service from a sketchy dentist or something. Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. Charming and romantic. Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? No. You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? That's hard for me to say. She doesn't seem to like talking about her past very much, because I know it's turbulent with her mother. I would say her being disowned, but I don't know how that *actually* affected her. Maybe it was for the better she wasn't under her mom's authority anymore. Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I guess my mom, but she's actually smaller than me now. She's lost a lot of weight and is still going at it. Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Not a house, but rather hay rides and those places you just walk through and experience different stuff. They don't scare me at all; I love 'em. Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? No. Which is worse: dusting or mopping? Ugh, mopping. I don't mind dusting. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? No. Did you pull a senior prank? No. That shit is so dumb. Did you graduate? High school, yes. Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? No, and I never would. What was the last song you listened to? I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of "Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park right now. It's great. Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell no. Is fashion one of your interests? No. Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? Hell if I know. Do you care what people think? Way, way more than I should. Is acting something you enjoy? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I feel so stupid. What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I tore a ligament badly in my foot maybe a year and a half ago. I was SO sure it was broken. My mom had to help me walk everywhere, and even when she did, I'd be whimpering and seething. Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? No. Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at? If we're excluding all family, I suppose Sara's? Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? Probably at some point as a kid. Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? I played a lot. The only two I really didn't like were soccer and cheerleading. Did you ever watch the show Full House? Hell yeah, I loved it as a kid. Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? Ha ha y'all know I joke about it, but no, not legitimately. It's not like I know him personally at all, and I'm not chasing him to California either. Just let me dream still lmao. Have you ever burned someone’s picture? No, but I've actually heard it's truly therapeutic and not just for dramatic effect, so I wouldn't be opposed to doing so if you handed me a picture of him and a lighter. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? I've never hiked before. Would you ever get a lip tattoo? Uh, no. Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Jason. Do your parents smoke cigarettes? My dad smokes like a chimney and is 100% going to end up with cancer because of it. You should hear his cough. Mom smoked for a very, very brief period before I was born. What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? "Equal in our bones" is on my favorite shirt. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Certain inverts people are wild enough to get, like giant African centipedes in particular. Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Can't say I care. do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Ha, no. We all have natural first impressions and things like that that just... happen. What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? Nothing, really... besides just childhood memories that inevitably came. My hometown was dangerous. What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during? I'm not sure. What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? I want to say Old Yeller, but I'm not sure. What’s your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden and The Cheesecake Factory. Is there a dessert you don’t like? Yeah; I don't like pie, strawberry shortcake, and I know there're others. Favorite album? Ozzy's Black Rain. It was my introduction to metal, so there's nostalgic value there, but I also just LOVE every single song. What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? None. I don't read books for that reason. Underwater or outer space? Both kinda frighten me to a degree, but I find outer space to be way cooler. So many colorrrrrrs. Dogs or cats? Cats. Kittens or puppies? Ugh, both are so cute, but I gotta hand it to kittens. Bird watching or whale watching? Whale watching would blow me away. Whales are such magnificent, awe-inspiring animals. What is your spirit animal? Probably a deer. Skittish, shy, and quiet. What was your best subject in school? English. What was your worst subject in school? Math. What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? You and Jason aren't going to last, hunty. Who is your fashion icon? I don't have one. I wear what I want/what's comfortable. Diamonds or pearls? I think diamonds are a lot prettier. What color dress did you wear to prom? First one was maroon, last one was black. What’s your favorite plot-twist? Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. My jaw actually dropped. Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? Yes. Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? Said things I shouldn't. Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad? Yes. Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? Two weeks ago or something like that. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? OH MY GOD NO alskdfa;wekrwer; Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Who are you closest to? My mom. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. Are you currently sad about anything? A number of things. Have you had any form of exercise today? No, but tomorrow is day #2 at the gym! Can you handle blood? Yeah, np. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No sir=ee. Are you currently searching for a job? Not anymore, at least not actively. I was going to after TMS, but I'm just... still not ready. Right now, I'm focusing on the gym and getting healthy again, but if the seemingly perfect job comes along, I'm not opposed to taking it up. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No, I've got to have breakfast or else THEN I feel awful.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

5 notes · View notes

hopeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

FANDOM: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

EVENT: Flufftober 2020

PROMPT: Cuddling

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

RATING: G

PAIRING: Adult!Lal & Adult!Fon

SUMMARY:

Lal comes home after yet another unsuccessful meeting with an agent. [Modern!AU]

Tag warning: Self depreciating language, Non serious wish of self harm (Lal is just being dramatic)

WORDS: 582 (BONUS: 1413)

Lal doesn’t slam the door closed behind her. She doesn’t throw her bag nor her coat down the leaving room, and doesn’t kick away her shoes after removing them like they’re soccer balls.

She closes the door and collapses on the previously-blanketed-and-pillowed-by-Fon floor, half in the entryway, half in the living room, still fully clothed.

Fon sends a “Quicksand Lal” text to the others to let them know they can’t come in right now.

At least her eyes weren’t red-rimmed, and she didn’t look about to burst into tears.

“I’m the one mistake god kept in this world to remind themself to never commit such an atrocity again.”

Fon winces. Well then, now he would just have to find the name of this last agent, editor, whoever, so they can have a little chat.

Did they have to make her leave their meeting in such a state every time?

He thinks the fuck not.

“You’re my very favorite person on earth, and I simply would have had to fist fight god to make you if he didn’t already do it.” Fon lies down too in the other direction, his head at the same level as Lal’s. “I would have won too, by the way.”

Lal huffs a laugh, sad and weak. She hides her face with her hood, closer to tears than Fon first thought.

“Why do I even keep trying?”

“Because it’s who you are. You never let the world put you down for long, and you’re not about to start now. I won’t let you.”

“Why fucking bother?” She kicks the bag at her feet, sends it flying against the wall. “How hard can it be to write a decent book? I’m just incompetent.”

Fon gently removes the hood and the hair out of her face. He brings her close, and lies on his back so she can rest her head on his chest.

“It’s very hard. But you’ll work on it again and make it better.”

“If you truly have any ounce of love for me at all, you’d snap my neck right now and spare me the humiliation of my existence.”

“You’ll work on it again as many times as you need, until every one else recognize its worth.”

“If you truly care for me, you’d burn to the ground any traces of my writing you could find.”

“And then we could make the round of all these agents who refused you, and throw a copy of your published book in their face.” Fon weaves his fingers through her hair, scratches her scalp. He peers down at her. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Lal glances at him briefly, and grows more of a dead weight on him. “You don’t even like my book.”

“I don’t like any books. I’m illiterate, remember? Words pretty to look at, hard to read.”

Lal snickers, something brief but genuine, and flicks him blindly somewhere along his jawline. She crawls on her knees to drape herself over him like some heavy, comfort-seeking blanket.

Fon wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, stroking her back in a soothing manner.

“Hey?” he says softly. She hums. “There’s people out there waiting to have their whole life changed by your book, so I better see you working on it.”

Lal nuzzles his neck. “Deal.”

“I brought ice-cream too. Chocolate and hazelnuts flavored.”

Lal sighs dreamily. “You’re the only man I’ll ever lie my life down for. Marry me.”

Fon chuckles. “Well, don’t go tell Colonnello that.”

BONUS:

Okay buckle up because I have thoughts for this verse.

This is a Civilians!Arco, Roommates!Arco, Polyamory!Arco, Slice of Life, Adulting Wrong, Modern AU.

But let's just go with the Arcobaleno Adulting Wrong AU lol.

(And I say civilians as in, their flames are dormant, but they could become active at literally any given moment, because I think it has the potential to be funny but I just didn’t figure out how yet.)

------

Lal and Fon meets in high school. Fon is the new foreign student in her class, and she’s asked to be the person he can turn to if he needs help.

They become best friends, stick together from then on, through high school and college, and decide they’ll live together.

They find themselves a nice two rooms apartment, but it turns out quickly it’s too nice for them.

So they send the word they're looking for a roommate.

------

Reborn and Colonnello are childhoods best friends. They stick together until high school, then go their separate way after that.

(They do stay in contact though, even if it’s nothing significant at all.)

Reborn majors in Math and minors in Social Studies, and comes out of college as its best student ever without breaking a sweat.

He opens a coffee shop, and finds a studio within his budget, and everything is fine.

Except nothing is fine because Reborn can live in nothing else but at least above average comfort, and his studio definitely does not qualify.

Until his business gets popular and he gets rich, he figures he can bear living with someone else in the meantime.

He finds Lal’s and Fon’s add, but the part he’s supposed to pay still doesn’t quite fit in his budget.

He calls Colonnello.

------

Colonnello is a rich boy. He doesn’t live with his parents anymore, but still absolutely depends on them financially.

They’re the one paying his nice apartment while he’s going through college. He majors in International Business while being the college star basketball athlete.

Here’s the thing though, Colonnello couldn’t care less about it all. He’s doing it because that’s what he’s expected to do.

(Well, he does like baseball, and sports in general, but he doesn’t want to make that for a living.)

But here’s the other thing, Colonnello doesn’t know what the hell he wants to do with his life.

He’d love to step out of the path decided for him to his own path—that’s the only thing he wants actually—, but he literally never knew anything else?

He only ever had to conform to others’ expectations of him, so he kind of comes empty when he tries to think of the alternative.

Somehow he comes to the conclusion serving in the army is what will give him answers.

But then Reborn calls, and he figures becoming independent of his parent’s money is maybe a more reasonable first step to take.

He becomes Reborn’s business partner, and moves in with him with Lal and Fon.

------

Skull hates school. He’s good at school, but he can’t believe he has to legally waste so much time of his life in there.

His parents are adamant he makes it all the way through college, so he makes a deal they won’t be allowed to tell him ever again how to live his life once he does.

He majors in Communication, Social Media and Web Marketing, minors in Sustainable Fashion Design, and then spends every walking living second of his life working to become a pro dancer and nothing else.

Except he still needs a roof above his head, but doesn’t want it to be a too big responsibility on his shoulders, so he looks for roommates.

He finds Lal’s and Fon’s add, but they already have Reborn and Colonnello, but even with the four of them the rent proves to be too pricey still, so they let Skull sleeps in the living room while they look for a new apartment.

They find a nice, four bedrooms apartment, of someone looking for roommates, and thankfully they don’t mind there are five of them.

Skull becomes Reborn’s and Colonnello’s business partner, takes care specifically and only of marketing them on social media, and points out that maybe they’d want to hire some employees for the shop.

------

Verde is the one living in the four room apartment, looking for roommates.

Verde is still a genius in this, and his parents were genius of their own, and they’re dead now but they left him loaded with money.

That’s how he pays the apartment, and everything else in his life, because he lives as a literal hermit and certainly does not have a job.

He never had a job in his whole life actually, and he’s fine with it.

Here’s the thing though, he’s terrible with money. And yeah his parents were geniuses, but the average kind of geniuses, and he’s starting to run kind of low in terms of money.

So he looks for roommates to buy himself as much time as he can.

And he sucks it up when he sees what kind of roommates exactly he summoned in his life lol.

------

Viper is… fucking tired of living in a Society, actually. Did they fucking ask? They fucking didn’t.

They make it until high school and straight up refuse to go to college, no matter what their parents say.

But, yes, they suppose they have to do something with their life. Yes, they’re working on it, they are, they swear.

It’s their 24th birthday, and their parents tell him if by next year they didn’t get their shit together, they’ll have no choice but to kick him out.

Viper immediately tweets this injustice, because, you see, they’re an influencer.

“Influencer.”

It started with them live blogging their whole life with a heavy dose of complaints and dark humor and cynicism, and somehow they made it popular.

And then companies started reaching out to them and, well, they weren’t about to say no to some money.

I wouldn’t say they’re liked though.

Popular? Yes. Liked? Let’s not go that far lmao. Make people talk about them and distract them from their own life? Absolutely.

Viper would die within the first 30 minutes of living in the streets, so they look for a part-time job to try to soothe their parents.

They become cashier at the coffee shop.

Except it doesn’t soothe their parents at all, so when they meet the deadline, they just move in with the others Arcobaleno.

------

Luce is… I’m still hesitating for Luce.

She can be their neighbor, and the only one among them who actually has her life together and under control and going exactly as she wants it to go.

And they kind of secretly hates her because of it, but the spite helps them try harder to get their shit together.

On the other hand she’s genuinely very supportive of them, which not many people in their life are—if any—, because she believes in the beauty and strength and bravery of pursuing your dreams no matter what, and they love her so much for it.

Also she indulges and encourages every last one of their bad decisions, which undoubtedly makes everything worse, but everyone is happy not to point it out.

OR she can be just like them, doing what is essentially procrastinating into adulthood.

I think both have the potential to be funny, but let’s go with the second one for consistency’s sake.

------

Luce has a whole thriving enterprise to inherit from her parents, but no, thank you very much, she wants to make her own mark in the world.

She majors in European & International Business, minors in Entrepreneurship & Innovation, and sets out to make her own mark in the world.

She works in her parent’s enterprise in the meantime, but only because she’ll need money to make her own mark in the world, and also, you know, to live until she makes her own mark in the world.

Which is absolutely a work in progress, she’s working on that right now. Making her own mark in the world.

Luce doesn’t have any fucking clue what she wants her own mark in the world to be. Or more like, she wants to do so many things!

When she talks to Colonnello about saving money so she can try to do as many things as she needs to, he tells her about how they totally could use another roommate to pay their bills.

She becomes a server at the coffee shop.

Okay so I do have more thoughts for this verse, but it’s going to be too long if I write them all at once lol. Here’s part 2!

Thank you for reading! Any and all review are appreciated ^^.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr fanfic #flufftober 2020 #khr fon #khr lal #cuddling #lal & fon #khr aaw au #this verse is really fun to think about!#can't wait to share what else i came up with with you guys #also i have no clue if you actually meet the agents;editors;whoever in person?#oh well lol #arcobaleno adulting wrong au #mine

26 notes · View notes

heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon · 5 years ago

Photo

So @cartoonshi (te) is still a huge piece of shit and I’ve been bard from his comment section but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna screen cap my final reply when I had the chance.

Though if @diregentleman could please speak with this piece of cartoon shit and tell him that he needs to take every single comment from me and response to me in the thread down and delete and un-favorite the initial comment that started people picking on me if he wants me to think that he has half of the amount of human decency that [you] dirementleman actually does... That would be great, thanks.

I’m actually gonna write an ID for this one for context.

CartoonSHIT* responding to me responding to some more harassment I was getting for my original comment that I left that Cartoonshite himself favorited and “hearted” because he apparently thought that him and his fanbase making a Crippled girl puke was the funniest thing ever and then called me “triggered” for calling him out after giving me no explanation or context as to why he favorited my original comment or found it funny other than putting me on display for the concept of “cringe”, which he confirmed to me when he proceeded to call me ‘triggered” the first time*: “Hey so before you say I deleted your comments that were in my spam folder again, I wanted to you that I’m deleting them because you’re making a fool out of yourself. Not only did you track me down on Tumblr just to try and call me out with an account I don’t even use, only to immediately delete your posts the second I responded, but you are also ....” [And that’s where I cut him off because I just don’t care also he blatantly publicly lied twice here and gaslit me to make himself look good but we’ll get to that...]

HeartshapedCreatureFromCriptoon @cartoonshi (te) [My response]:

“How about you give me and Diregentleman a real, proper apology you British Virgin Weeaboo? All I did [insert link HERE]: https://heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon.tumblr.com/post/619943308717932545/cartoonshi-heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon

Was call you out and provide evidence of your 12 year old fanbase harassing me because you put me on display and made a spectacle of my comment and [I] told you the truth that no women would have sex with you and this is the reason why. Because you’re exactly the kind of grown man who would say a women deserved to be raped because of what she was wearing. No girl is gonna “send [you] nudes lmao” on twitter and Esmé Bianco is NEVER gonna splosh with you! :D If you’re gonna delete my comments they best be every single one of them [including responses].”

[END ID.]

Okay so, that’s the final comment I could leave because Cartoonshi bard me from commenting and this final response I made to him doesn’t show up when I refreshed the page and I knew that was gonna happen so that’s why I screen capped it, but uh... He’s a self important piece of shit and a coward and a liar. Because:

I love how he makes it out like I “tracked him down” on tumblr as if that’s some kind of stalker-ish behavior as if I didn’t just assume that his tumblr would probably be the same as his YouTube handle and as if I couldn’t find that basic information out in 2seconds just by @ing him because, ya know. I couldn’t accurately provide the evidence of his fanbase sending me virtual dicks and calling me a cunt directly in his comment section, but... He’s trying to frame the fact that I had enough common sense to just @ him the screenshots over tumblr as the big harassment fiasco here. Yeah I can totally get where his fanbase who call me an “absolute fucking creep” for being excited over basic public information like the fact that Eden Sher is an author and the fact that Daron Nefcy is having a baby and the fact that the voice actress of my favorite adult character in Star vs. The Forces of Evil has the exact same freaking kink as me and I can finally put a name to it and not feel ashamed of wanting to practice it and study how to do it safely one day because Esmé Bianco A.K.A Eclipsa (”Yes My Kink”) Butterfly has it so proudly and causally listed on her Twitter profile that she occasionally does this, get their logic from ... As for me mentioning the fact that me and Esmé just so happen to share the same kink here... I mean what? It’s Pride Month! (The children reading this should be sensible enough to know not to follow Esmé Bianco on Twitter yet and not to look up what that word is...)

Cartoonshite outright telling me that he “barely uses” tumblr after this because he thinks I’d even want to look twice at his tumblr as if I barely did because he somehow thinks that I’m somehow interested in his tumblr usage habits. Would you prefer I @ -ed you on twitter, bud? Because you know I’m not sending you my nudes! :D

“Just try to call me out ‘with an old account that I don’t even use’”. Okay I know this is a big grammar/wording mistake because you and your audience have like, never taken an English Class despite you being English but, calm down Lil’ Benny Weeaboo I won’t be hacking your account or leaking my nudes anywhere near you and even if I was skilled enough in my trolling to be able to hack one of your accounts, I’d make sure it would be your YouTube so I could delete all of your Cartoonshite Videos! :D

These next two things are just blatant lies and gaslighting on Cartoonshites part even though I didn’t even read that far until I realized so I’m just gonna point out these lies for what they are now because, for one thing not only was my original post with the @cartoonshi and the screen-caps linked in my last reply to him as well in the ID above, but will no longer show up in the original thread because he’s censoring me from defending myself at this point because he probably knew I would just link him the aforementioned “deleted” post in response, which I did, because that was my first instinct of what to do without even read through his accusation of having deleted my post and just pointing out the fact all I did was defend myself providing direct evidence of his fanbase harassing me, which the exact reason why he censored my comments, because he knew that I would just respond with the direct link to the post he had just said I deleted without my own even so much as realizing he had claimed I had deleted that post because I couldn’t even care enough to read all the way through his comments so he knew I would just reply with a direct link to the post that he just got through telling me and everyone else I had deleted along with publicly shaming me for deleting a post that I clearly DID NOT delete and that would make him look bad. But for those of you keeping up I obviously didn’t delete anything and that’s why Cartoonshite censored me because he knew damn well that the original post that he’s talking about me having deleted is right HERE: https://heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon.tumblr.com/post/619484366035353600/so-cartoonshi-te-want-to-tell-me-again-how

And I clearly DID NOT “delete my post the second he responded” because both his oringinal response to me and my final response to what he had to say for himself are both RIGHT HERE: https://heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon.tumblr.com/post/619943308717932545/cartoonshi-heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon

And the reality is that, I know I certainly couldn’t have reacted that fast a la “immediately” as he claims I apparently did, *the seconded he responded* because, I was only aware that Cartoonshi even responded to me, one or two days after the fact that he reblogged my original post where I first @ -ed Cartoonshite, as I know that the time stamps in between both my original post and my original reply to cartoonshites reblog will probably tell so, we all know that’s a lie.

The reason cartoonshite is this angry is because I called him a creepy virgin and told him to get a life and blocked him and I can tell because at the very end of spouting all of his self important, exaggerated, babble on bullshit which contained bold face lies so good thing I didn’t read through anyway, he told me to “get a life”, but the reason I didn’t ~“immediately”~ in his own words, drop everything and reply to him “*the second he responded*” as he informed me I had apparently done so in his self important fantasy, but in my reality only two days after he had reblogged my original post, containing examples both his harassment of me as well as his fans, which cartoonshi also was so kind to inform me I had apparently deleted in his self important fantasy, was because I was too busy keeping up with the protests and sourcing information and making donations and buying a new set of bedding from IrenHorrors Society6 to even notice him in my notes until two days later. Because that’s what people with actual lives that don’t revolve around being angry and bitter about what happens in western cartoons about magical children and making bad, angry, bitter videos about media aimed at pre-teen children and the political ramifications about the goings on in a fictional teenagers life do- Actually support artists and care about in real life people. When has Cartoonshi ever cared about or supported anyone? You can say it was harsh of me to bully this Virgin Weeaboo Britfuck but in my opinion any fully grown man who would respond to my personal concerns with: “LOL why are you so triggered?” deserves it and I don’t care what they have to say especally now since they blatantly spewing bold face lies after they’re the ones who made me throw up. I had absolutely no intention of arguing with such a blatantly ablest fuck boy to begin with and even more so now since he’s proven to be blatant liar who censors peoples perfectly good burns because he thinks he gets to dish but he shouldn’t have to take it so now he’s just making his shite up as he goons along. But at the very least I think diregentleman would want be made aware of this because I truly think that the treatment we’ve been receiving here has been WELL FAR AWAY so far from what I would personally deem a proper debate or explanation/apology. At least on my end. Probably because of a combination of ableism and sexism. Ether way I’m saying that if cartoonshite will not let me comment or reply to defend myself anymore, then at the very least I’d like an explanation as to why he originally thought I was so funny, or I’d like to at least be able see and know that my original comment on Cartoonshi’s video, along with all the other obnoxious replies baiting me, including Cartoonshi’s, are gone. You know I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong in this situation expect respond to every single one of the replies to my original comments in kind until people couldn’t stand me any more and I personally think that Ms. Skullnick would be so proud of me for achieving this.

3 notes · View notes

joonsgalaxy · 6 years ago

Text

true care (m) |04

cr. ↰

→ pairing: bodyguard!Jungkook x female reader

→ genre: fake dating au, fluff/romance, angst, future smut

• summary: your (endearingly) shy bodyguard—hired by your father—would do anything for you. even though you roll your eyes at his persistence and pretend there’s no need for him to follow you to every and any place you go, there might be many more hazards in your life than you let on. and you might end up needing him in more ways than you—or your father—would ever think.

word count: 7,6k

! warnings: mentions of toxic past relationship throughout the series; alcohol consumption

series masterlist

↠ chapter 4: pass me the glue so i don’t bleed

a/n: sorry if it sucks. hopefully it doesn’t lmao. oh btw i suck at replying to comments but pls be aware that i appreciate every single one and i read them like a hundred times each <3

The rest of the weekend seemed to last an eternity.

You stayed at home so you wouldn't have to see Jeongguk. You were studying without rest in an effort to preoccupy yourself with subjects of upcoming exams so you wouldn't hear Jeongguk's mellifluous voice humming in the silence of your room and wouldn't imagine your hand fitting perfectly in his for the umpteenth time. You thought that maybe not seeing him and not talking to him for a couple of days would help the rational side of you to take over; it would take the job of proving you that your feelings for him were a mere temporary illusion. There can't be any real feelings, because you only just started getting to know him. The boy was still quite a mystery to you. How could you possibly have already developed feelings for him? And this rational part of you sort of helped. In a way, all those things were complete true, after all. However, these thoughts weren’t the only ones begging for your attention. Jeongguk this, Jeongguk that, you kept on hearing in your mind. Sometimes in a whisper, oftentimes in a scream, overwhelming anything else that was happening within you. You felt like you had no control over it. It just kept on reoccurring, the images of him dancing before your eyes along with it. It was fucking torture. And there hadn’t been even two months since you broke up with another guy. How dare you think about Jeongguk in such a way so soon?

And there also was that thing about lies and lipstick stains tormenting your mind.

Come to think of it, it was your dad who was responsible for all your vexation. He was the one to blame for hiring Jeongguk as your bodyguard; he was the one to be careless and forget to wipe the lipstick smear from his cheek; he was the one having the audacity to tell you it was just a business dinner. He had ruined your weekend and potentially some weeks to come.

•

On Monday morning, at 10 past 8, you stepped out the house, carrying your bag filled with textbooks and your laptop, intending to leave the thoughts that were bugging you during the weekend behind.

As Mr. Ri was polishing a particular spot on the hood of the car by rubbing at it meticulously, Jeongguk and him were having a conversation. It was nice seeing them get along.

Only when you were mere feet away from the car did they notice you approaching.

‘Good morning,’ both of them greeted you in unison.

‘Good morning.’ You smiled back at them before locking eyes with the driver. ‘Did you pick Jeongguk up this morning?’

‘I sure did.’ answered Mr. Ri brightly.

‘Again, thank you,’ Jeongguk said, his shy yet grateful eyes meeting yours.

Smile tugging the corners of your lips, you lifted one shoulder in a flippant shrug. ‘I didn’t do a thing.’ It sort of was true. You only had to text the driver letting him know you wanted him to pick Jeongguk up from his home, for he didn’t have his own car to commute. And, looking back at Thursday night, they already had each other’s numbers, so they were able to easily communicate and arrange that.

As usual, after the driver pulled open the door for you, you occupied the backseat, and Jeongguk sat in the front.

•

The first class was called law of evidence.

Strolling down the hallway toward the auditorium with Jeongguk by your side, you spotted someone that made your heart accelerate and beat unpleasantly fast. There were two of Kwangsun's good friends standing alongside one of the walls. They were looking directly at you, faces inscrutable. Right in the middle of them, much to your exasperation, was the guy that you talked to Mina about recently. The one that had given you the message from Kwangsun himself; the very same guy that showed up at the party later the same day. Even if before there was still a sliver of possibility that Kwangsun didn't actually know the guy and he was some random dude that was randomly asked to give you the paper plane (later dropping by at the party, asking about you just because he was just interested in the drama that had surrounded you and your ex), now you were 100% sure that Kwangsun and him were in fact friends.

All three of them were blatantly staring at you and Jeongguk. What was their deal?

You told yourself you had no other choice but to grip Jeongguk by his hand and lead him into the auditorium. 'C'mon,' you said. 'The class starts in a few minutes.'

You felt Jeongguk tense up a little at the contact and the unexpected invite, but after half a second of consideration he dutifully complied and followed you to the auditorium.

If the mysterious guy was still trying to figure out your relationship status, this would show him that you were dating for sure.

If you had left Jeongguk in the hallway, who knows, maybe they would've come up to him and tried to pry answers from him. And that could've ended up in an utter debacle. Even if you knew that Jeongguk was capable of dealing with everything concerning his work, you didn't want to take any risks; you weren't about to give him such control over the situation, for you wanted to make sure everything went according to your plans.

'Let's go to the back,' you told Jeongguk as you were climbing up the steps toward the highest point of the huge room. You still had his hand in yours; he held it tightly. Only when you moved to take a seat in the very back, you let go of it.

He remained standing, a million questions reflecting in his eyes.

You patted the air just above the seat next to you, smiling welcomingly.

'Uh,' Jeongguk drawled, confusion written all over his face. 'Shouldn't I leave?'

'The class is about to start. Don't you wanna learn about law of evidence?'

He still looked perplexed. Jeongguk was startled by the change in your attitude about him being near you during class. At first you were opposed to the idea of him simply peeking into the rooms to make sure it was safe for you to enter; and now you were encouraging him to sit through the class right beside you. His wariness made complete sense.

He started saying something, 'I mean—

The professor entered the room, drawing everyone's attention toward her, including Jeongguk's.

'Quick!' You whispered. 'It's starting.'

He had no other choice than succumbing to your request and taking that seat next to you.

'Is this because of that guy in the hallway?' Jeongguk whispered as you were pulling your laptop out your bag.

Your eyes widened at that. 'What?' Had he noticed him, too?

‘YG, is it?’ Jeongguk knew the guy's name? 'He gave you the paper plane last week, and was at the party? He's your friend, right? You had to make this whole being a couple thing believable?'

Oh. 'Yeah, that's right.'

'So…' Jeongguk fiddled with his sleeve, glancing at the professor who was starting the lecture. 'Should I just sit here until the class ends?'

'Yeah, why not? Nobody cares, anyway. Aren't you interested in law of evidence?'

'I am,' he whispered enthusiastically.

Fascinated, he sat through the whole lecture, listening attentively.

It was fun seeing Jeongguk so immersed in the subject, so you invited him to some of the other classes that week, too. He had a pass card that allowed him to enter the faculty, so as long as it wasn't a test day or the professor wasn't one of those that loved to question people during lectures Jeongguk could easily go in and out of auditoriums without anyone paying attention to him. The authorities were aware he was your bodyguard, but other students and professors didn't need to know that; as far as they were concerned Jeongguk was just another student among the sea of others.

Sometimes you'd discuss the topics that the classes were about. He would ask questions and you'd try to answer and explain them to him as best you could. He complimented the way you managed to make intricate things sound simple, and he thoroughly enjoyed the examples you'd given him to make your point. The more sparkles in his eyes you noticed the more you were thrilled about telling him about the theories from textbooks and some ideas that you had of your own. The conversations would occur between classes or after them during the slow strolls around campus or sometimes, like on Thursday that week, at your favourite cafe named Symphony.

However, the law or interesting cases through history weren't the only things you two talked about. There was a little unpleasant surprise at the counter, and Jeongguk was curious about it.

'I was told to give you this again,' the cashier said, her hand held out to you, a sky blue paper plane on her palm.

Attempting to smother the irritation surging through your veins, you politely thanked her, even managed a smile. Having bought a cupcake and a cup of coffee, you sauntered to the garbage can and tossed the paper plane into it without even unfolding it and looking to see if there was a message written inside. You weren't interested in what he had to say to you.

When both you and Jeongguk made yourself comfortable onto the chairs behind one of the tables in the cafe, he asked, 'Some sort of secret admirer?'

'Huh?' Your mind was distracted.

'Sending you the paper planes?'

'Oh…' You didn't know what to tell him.

'I'm guessing Yoongi is only the messenger in this? Unless he's hitting on you and Mina at the same time?'

'No,' you answered with a tinge of distaste. 'He's… yeah, he's only a messenger.'

Jeongguk nodded, humming. 'So… do you know who's the admirer?'

'Uh—

'I mean, you don't have to tell my anything, if you don't want to.'

'It's not that. He's no one important.'

He looked at you sceptically over his cup of tea. 'Seems to go out of his way to make an impression, though.'

Yeah, quite a horrible impression. Kwangsun seemed to ruin every good memory you still had with him by doing all this unnecessary stuff. What an idiot.

'Well, I'm not really interested in him.'

'Oh, that's… sad.'

'So why are you smiling?'

His grin only widened; he tried to conceal it by lifting his cup up to his nose. 'It's just… the cupcake is exquisite.'

'You haven't even tasted it yet.'

'Even just the thought of biting into it makes me happy.'

You shook your head, chuckling.

After eating and talking about the day’s lectures you said, 'So… about tomorrow night.'

'Yes?' You had Jeongguk's full attention.

'Have you already talked to Mr. Ri about it? You both should be in front of my house at 7 pm sharp.'

'Yes, he picks me up at 6:40. We'll be there on time.'

'Good.' You nodded once. 'The dress code is black tie.'

'Yes, I'm aware. My suit is ready. What are you so anxious about?'

'Psh, I'm not. I'm used to these kinds of events, you know.'

'So you're worried about me.' His tone had a hint of bitterness.

'No… Yes.' You winced.

He pursed his lips into a thin line, exhaled. 'I memorized every exit, every window and every corner in the hotel. You don't have to worry about it. And I bought a suit. I won't embarrass you, miss ____.'

Your brow furrowed. He hadn't been calling you like that the whole week, since the Friday night when you ordered him to call you by only your first name. At all times. The boy looked offended and defensive, wanting to distance himself by acting like a professional employee. Just an employee and nothing else. That reminded you how much he wished to prove you and your dad that he was a capable bodyguard.

If truth be told, it hurt a little, just the tiniest bit. Without even realizing you started seeing Jeongguk as your friend, someone you could talk to about both school matters and your personal life. The way he addressed you at the café was a cutting reminder that he was certainly not your friend, and probably would never be. Especially when it was so important for him that you saw him as a skilful bodyguard.

'Of course not,' you said. 'I'm not worried about that. I just want everything to go smoothly. There's enough stress as it is.' That was complete truth.

•

You barely ever wore dresses or high heels, and it usualy wouldn't take an hour to get ready, but these kinds of events were an exception (it was the celebration of the bank your dad worked at being established 25 years ago). You had learned to act and dress the way people around you wanted you to. It was for your own good, your dad and grandparents used to tell you. You dressed and talked like the rich, well-mannered, educated girl you were and nobody looked at you twice; you blended in. It was easier that way. You'd go to an event, show everyone how well your father had raised you and, when the time was appropriate for leaving, you'd make your exit.

That Friday evening you wore a designer dress that you and your grandmother decided on buying two weeks prior. You squeezed your feet into a pair of high heels that you also hadn't wore before.

When you stepped out of the house, your driver as well as Jeongguk were already waiting outside for you. They were chatting, facing each other, which had become a usual thing. You had to pause and smile to yourself. Even if Jeongguk was turned to Mr. Ri, that didn't prevent you from observing how good he actually looked in that new black suit of his. A really well fitting suit, you had to admit. One hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other making vague gestures as he spoke, he exuded confidence, and he seemed relaxed.

You started toward the car again, cursing the high heels. (You were good at concealing the discomfort, though. Another lesson from your grandmother coming in handy.)

Jeongguk turned to face you, and, upon seeing your approaching form, he froze in spot. His lips parted ever so slightly and he looked almost dumbstruck. His gaze glided up and down your body as if you were naked or suddenly had turned into a flying car, something completely unexpected. As though just realizing he was being weird, he quickly pulled his hand out of the pocket and fixed his tie (which, by the way, looked expensive and very nice on him), self-consciously smoothing down the jacket after, wide eyes still glued on you. You liked to believe you weren't an arrogant person, but his reaction meant one thing only and was extremely flattering. You wondered if he'd have the courage to compliment you with words.

You didn't know exactly why (either he had forgotten about the order from last week momentarily or perhaps it was a way of complimenting you with actions), but Jeongguk abruptly stepped toward the back of the car and yanked the door open, holding it for you. You raised a surprised brow at him, but moved to get in the car anyway. But not before throwing a glance at Mr. Ri; he had a knowing grin plastered over his face, and he threw a hand in the air as if saying: “I’ll just let have him this one”.

After you climbed into the car, Jeongguk closed the door carefully. You could see his face, and he was blushing hard, probably just realizing at that moment that he was in a daze earlier and wasn't supposed to open the door. You chuckled.

During the trip to the hotel you could see he was nervous. He kept looking around a lot as if checking whether you'd already arrived or not. He was fiddling with the buttons of his jacket and carefully fixing his fringe from time to time.

When you stepped into the hall, he seemed rather tense. You completely understood him. That kind of situation could be overwhelming even for you, who had been to these kinds of events numerous of times. Even if you didn't really care about what all those people thought of you, admittedly, the self-consciousness grew by every passing second of standing there nearby the entrance.

‘Pretend they’re naked,’ you said loud enough for Jeongguk to hear you. ‘It’s a cliché, but it works.’

He gave a short laugh.

How should you introduce him?

You lost that train of thought, when your grandmother rushed toward you in her classic tiny steps. 'My darling! You look fantastic!' She looked you up and down. 'I told you those shoes would go with the dress. This is really good. I think he'll like it very much,' she said, her gaze jumping away as if searching for someone particular in the crowd.

'Who? What are you talking about?'

She completly ignored Jeongguk. He might as well have been a ghost attracted to your energy and yours only.

'I want you to meet someone.' Oh here we go.

'Maybe I don't want to meet him.'

'Oh, you do, don't be silly. You haven't even seen his gorgeous face.'

'And I don't intend to.'

'Quit it,' she muttered. 'He's a wonderful young man, and you'll marry him.'

'Woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves.'

'Let's get ahead. You have to think about your future. And when you meet him, I promise you, you will be the one wanting to propose to him right on the spot. But don't do that, of course,' she added as an afterthought.

'Oh, I don't know. Will I be able to control myself, if he's that great as you're describing.'

She shot you a glare that was supposed to show she wasn't fond of hearing any of your jokes right now. You shrugged as if saying you couldn't help it.

'He's so smart,' she resumed, looking around, gaze sweeping the crowd. 'Right up your league. Oh, I see him. He's alone. Come quick.' She beckoned you with an abrupt gesture, inviting you to follow her.

You breathed a sigh, turning to Jeongguk to offer him an apologetic smile that probably looked more awkward than anything, and then you followed her into the sea of the rich.

'How do you know him anyway?'

'I know everyone here.'

The man was admittedly handsome, suave and, even though there was no way of examining him there, seemed well educated and polite.

'This is Kim Seokjin.'

'Hello there,' he said smoothly, giving you a brilliant smile.

Your grandmother continued the introduction, 'Just a year ago he founded his company, and now it's worth millions! What a bright young man!' Could she at least try being a little more subtle? Gee.

'That's impressive,' you said.

Kim Seokjin, with a fair amount of inhibition, chuckled, momentarily lowering his gaze to the floor.

'____ here is studying law,' your grandmother told him, all proud and excited.

Seokjin looked at you. 'Oh, does she?'

'Anyway, I'm going to say hello to some people. You two feel free to talk more, get to know each other.' You almost expected her to wink at you.

You and Seokjin exchanged a knowing smile as if saying ugh, family.

'Yes, will do,' he said to your grandmother. 'Thank you for introducing us.'

She strode away, giving you the last tiny nod.

What now? These things were always awkward. Was he interested in you? Was he single and into girls, or your grandmother just assumed things as per usual?

'So…' Seokjin drawled while you were subconsciously biting your lip. You remembered you had lipstick on and released the flesh from the grip of your teeth. 'I'm guessing— I mean, I'm usually straightforward type of guy, so just let me ask you this… Did your grandmother introduce us because we’re similar in age and both single?' Well, he definitely wasn't joking about being straightforward. You liked that. But you didn't like him, well, at least not in the way your grandmother wanted you to. Even if he was dazzling and smart and had great taste when it came to fancy suits, you weren't looking for a relationship. Especially not in these events, and not with people that one of your family members introduced you to. You knew, you just knew it would be a hell of a challenge to date someone your grandmother knew, especially a man that she already wanted you to marry. You wouldn't ever be at peace dating him.

You had no idea if Kim Seokjin would be into you, but you had to make sure you wouldn't lead him on. You had to get away somehow from this ridiculous situation.

You glanced behind you while stuttering trying to answer him. You saw Jeongguk not far away from you in the crowd. You locked eyes. He was your solution. You decided on beckoning him over.

'Actually,' you told Kim Seokjin, 'my grandmother doesn't know about this, but…' Jeongguk appeared beside you, and, having mentally prepared to lie, you said, 'This is Jeon Jeongguk. He's my…' Good thing you didn't visibly cringe uttering the next words while gripping affectionately Jeongguk's arm. 'He's my lovely boyfriend.' That should be convincing enough, right? Even when lying to the smartest of guys.

'Oh!' Kim Seokjin didn't seem even the tiniest bit of disappointed.

Jeongguk's eyes held lots questions within them, he looked startled for half a second, but he had to quickly regain his composure, and, when he did regain it, he seemed as gleeful as ever.

'Pleased to meet you,' Jeongguk said to Kim Seokjin in a friendly tone, shaking the guy's hand.

'Um, so as I said my grandparents don't know about this, so I'd appreciate—

'Oh, of course!' Seokjin said. 'I get it. Dealing with family can be… complicated.'

'Yes, exactly. Thank you.'

Your hand was still gently touching Jeongguk's arm, when your gaze slid ever so slightly to the side, behind Kim Seokjin's shoulder. The smile that you were offering him started fading until it was completely wiped from your face. You lost the focus on the conversation you were having, because you saw your dad talking to a woman. Usually it would mean nothing, you wouldn't get distracted by it, but since your mind had been occupied by the speculations of his love life, you couldn't help but watch them intently as they, smiling brightly at each other, conversed about something amusing. By that point you were aware the two men that were standing near you were looking their way too, intrigued.

'Are you looking at my mom?' You heard Kim Seokjin ask.

You looked at him. 'What? No, it's my dad.'

'Ok, but your dad is the CEO and that lady talking to him, laughing… that's my mom.'

'Oh.'

She couldn't be his date from Friday night, could she? Because if she was then your grandmother would certainly not want you to marry her son. Well, unless she had no idea about it.

‘I don’t know how to ask you this, but…’ Seokjin said, glancing back at your father and the lady. Your eyes were focused on them too. Seokjin’s mother pecked your father on the cheek affectionately, but nonchalantly enough for other people to perceive it as something inconspicuous. You were 98% sure the lipstick colour on her lips was the same as you saw on your dad’s cheek on Friday night. ‘Do you think they might be dating?’

The question made your heart skip a beat.

‘Has your dad talked about it at all?’ Seokjin asked.

Not knowing how to answer him you just stared at him and tried to come up with something, but failed. You were definitely not telling him that your father lied to you about it as if you were a child.

You felt a hand gently touching your back in a soothing motion. You couldn’t be certain if Jeongguk was pulling an act because of Seokjin, or if the gesture was genuine.

Noticing the mild bewilderment on your face, Seokjin said, ‘I don’t mean to be rude, I just have my suspicions and my mom won’t talk about it with me. It’s just weird… I’m sorry if I offended you or…’

‘No. I—I too have some suspicions of my own.’

Your dad and Seokjin’s mother parted ways. Your dad was about to go on the stage and receive his award and whatnot.

'I think we could use this,' gesturing for one of the waitresses to slow down. He took two champagne glasses from the tray that the waitress was balancing on her palm and held them out for you and Jeongguk. You took it impulsively; Jeongguk hesitated. 'C'mon,' Seokjin encouraged him with a friendly smile and a tilt of head. He thought Jeongguk was your boyfriend, not a bodyguard on duty, and he didn't know Jeongguk couldn't consume any kind of alcohol that night.

Nevertheless, Jeongguk decided on plucking the delicate glass out from Seokjin grip, probably thinking that refusing would be too impolite of a gesture and could kindle some awkward tension between them.

Satisfied, Seokjin took another glass from the tray for himself. 'To family,' he made a rather sarcastic toast.

'To family,' you echoed him, tone laced with blatantly fake joy.

While Seokjin took a sip of the drink and Jeongguk just stood there without even taking the tiniest of sips you chugged the whole glass in one go. The bubbles felt quite unpleasant in your mouth and throat, but getting a bit tipsy seemed a very attractive thing at that moment. The men looked at you with surprised expressions on their youthful faces.

'What? I'm thirsty.'

They both chuckled, then shrugged.

You sighed, staring at the bottom of the glass. 'Why do you think they'd be hiding it?'

Kim Seokjin thought for a moment, took a swig of the champagne. 'Well, you're hiding something from your grandmother, too.' He glanced between you and Jeongguk, indicating he was talking about your (fake) relationship. 'I'm sure you have a good reason for it. Maybe they do, too.'

You bit your lip. 'Perhaps,' you agreed after a moment of mulling it over.

'Anyway, I think the speeches are starting soon, I should go find my seat.'

'Of course. It was nice meeting you.'

'You, too. Both of you.' He grinned and strolled away, his champagne glass still half full.

'You okay?' Jeongguk asked, concern settling over his face.

'Mhm,' you hummed with as much nonchalance as you could muster.

Another waitress was sauntering past you; you placed the empty glass on the tray she was carrying and snatched a full one. Without a second's thought you chugged that one down, too.

‘Woah,' Jeongguk breathed as you frowned, feeling the bubbles pop against your throat. 'Maybe you should slow down?' Jeongguk suggested.

You arched your brow at him. 'You think so?' You switched hands and grabbed the full glass that Jeongguk was holding. You let the champagne trickle down your throat again. You didn't know exactly what had gotten into you, but all you knew was you had to distract yourself from the thoughts of your dad or your grandmother and her plans of making you marry someone she thought was a good match. The alcohol was mildly starting to numb your brain and throat. Your face impulsively crumpled because of the horrible taste in your mouth. 'Yak, this doesn't taste right.'

'Nothing tastes right, when you consume too much of it.'

'Don't be a smartass,' you hissed.

He could barely control the grin that was threatening to break wide open. What was so funny?

He looked around. 'Shouldn't we go find our seats, too?'

You shrugged. 'I guess so.'

Your table was at the very front amongst a couple of other tables placed closest to the stage. The card with your name was meticulously planted on the white pristine tablecloth. Everything there screamed luxury. Honesty seemed to be a luxurious feature, too, not attainable even to you.

'I think my seat is somewhere in the back,' said Jeongguk, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. 'Have a great night. I'm going to—

'Wait.' You touched his elbow to stop him. He waited as you read the other cards sitting on the table. You recognized a couple of them—your grandparents' names—and paused on a third one that was next to yours. 'Have no idea who that is,' you said. Having made sure nobody was watching you, except Jeongguk, you discreetly tossed the card onto another table.

'Wha—what are you doing?' Jeongguk asked, his tone gruff as if he was reprimanding you.

You gripped his forearm and guided him to the table. 'Shut up and take a seat.'

He complied albeit reluctantly. 'This is not my seat.'

'Who says that? Do you see someone else's name anywhere?'

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line, ruminating on your question and the whole situation. He sighed, defeated. 'I guess not.'

'Here you go.'

A man strolled to the table, read the cards. His brows pinched together in confusion. He walked away, in thought. You giggled; Jeongguk forced a smile.

Of course, you realized you were acting kind of… crazy, but you were not about to sit through all those speeches with some stranger and your grandparents by your sides. Jeongguk worked for you, he got paid to hang out with you when there was no danger. His job was easy, the least he could do to show his gratitude was sit with you and offer his emotional support. God, your head was dizzy. Had you eaten dinner or lunch that day? You couldn't recall. The alcohol was really kicking in. Shit… Did you just really throw someone else's name card onto another table? And you forced Jeongguk to sit in that person's seat? What the hell was wrong with you? You were definitely losing it.

'Oh, Jeon Jeongguk you're here, too,' your grandmother said taking a seat behind the table, her voice sounding (fake) sweet.

Jeongguk offered a bashful smile. 'Yes, I am.'

You probably would have blamed yourself for putting him in such an awkward situation had you not been under the influence of alcohol. Even if it wasn't much of it, it still was affecting you.

Your grandfather nodded deferentially Jeongguk's way, pulling a chair from under the table.

The whole "show" was quite boring, if you were being honest. It was always boring. We're proud of our company blah blah blah. We're so grateful to our partners blah blah blah.

You'd rather lift off your seat, levitate through the room above all tables and fly out one of the windows into the horizon; the champagne was making you feel like you could actually do it, as well as not having the high heels on your feet (a good thing about being seated at a table). Perhaps you could fly to the Moon. Surely, banks didn't exist there, no CEOs stressing themselves over work, no ex boyfriends or dads holding secrets. Nothing would bother you there.

'Everything all right?' You heard Jeongguk's soft voice. He was leaning ever so slightly toward your direction as if attempting to enter the little world you'd created yourself in your mind. He seemed concerned.

Why was he always so concerned? You were— 'Just fine.'

The look on his face remained showing you the high level of his worry; there was also some scepticism flickering in his eyes. His gaze slid downward where your fingers were wrapped around a napkin, tightly, very tightly as if it were your enemy's neck. Up until that exact moment you hadn't even realized you were using so much force. Actually, you weren't even aware you had the napkin in your hand in the first place.

Your grip on it loosened. You let go of the napkin and neatly folded it, leaving it be on the table in peace so Jeongguk wouldn't be questioning you anymore.

You put much effort into trying to listen to whatever the important people on the stage had to say, but your mind was swimming in the ocean that had poison of irritation instead of cold water. Shouldn't the champagne have turned it into an elixir of relaxation?

Your father—the CEO—was finally called to the stage. You applauded lazily. You couldn't focus on anything he was saying. Something about hiding things from his daughter? All you were hearing was: I lie. I lie. I lie. You know what I did last Friday? I lied to my daughter. She's a child. A clueless child. Ha! Don't you just love a good ol' lie? Mmm, lies.

Your leg was restlessly jumping up and down, and once again only because of Jeongguk you'd noticed that it was doing it.

Under the table, you felt some pressure on your knee, and your jittery movement halted. A little confused, you looked down, slightly tilting your head, and saw that Jeongguk was the one pressing a finger onto your knee. Your heart did a two-step.

You glanced at him quizzically, for you definitely weren't expecting him to do such a thing. It was a small gesture, yeah, but Jeongguk didn't seem the type to have the courage to do even such a simple thing. Come to think of it, he was risking people seeing it; he was risking you getting mad at him for it. And in a way, that made you appreciate him even more.

He smiled. Your heart melted like hard wax becoming liquid upon the right level of warmth. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, soothing. 'Everything's just fine, remember?'

You did not succeed in trying to subdue the urge to smile back at him.

Though, the rational side of you was telling you that you should immediately smack his hand away, maybe give him such chiding for acting so outrageously. How dare he touch you like that in the hopes he would calm you down by such a silly gesture.

However, the other part of you (fuelled and motivated by alcohol and the feelings you'd started having for him) ordered you to do something entirely different.

(You should chide yourself, not Jeongguk, for what you did next.)

Turning your face back to the stage, you slipped your hand under the table, making sure it looked as casual and inconspicuous as possible. You weren't about to do anything devilish, of course not, but even the little things mattered in a place like this. Your hand landed gently onto Jeongguk's. You dragged it over your knee; he didn't demur, surprisingly so. That only showed he was getting more and more comfortable around you, even if sometimes he'd hesitate or distance himself just a little.

He clasped your knee as if he'd done it a million times before.

In your peripheral you could see him gulp. Clearly, he wasn't unfazed by your action.

You leaned to the side a little, reducing the distance between you and him, to murmur, 'It'll take more than just a finger to calm my nerves.'

Jeongguk almost choked on air. He cleared his throat, carefully shifting in his seat.

It took a little time for your intoxicated mind to realize the ambiguity of your words. You didn't take them back, though. In any case, it was even more thrilling, so you welcomed the distraction.

Were you insane? You most definitely were.

Both hands back on the table, fingers fiddling with the napkin again, you pretended to listen attentively to the speeches. However, you understood nothing at all. You didn't care. You felt Jeongguk's thumb rub your knee back and forth; it was almost imperceptible, but your blood was getting warmer and warmer.

Your grandparents were mere feet away, and that fact only made you even giddier. Needless to say, neither of your legs were jumping up and down anymore. Your blood pressure, on the other hand, undoubtedly was.

The "show" eventually ended, and you congratulated your dad as a well raised daughter should.

You also saw Kim Seokjin's mother do the same, her lips touching your dad's cheek in a quick peck again. For everyone in the event it probably looked inconspicuous and nothing noteworthy, but at that point you were completely convinced they were dating, which wasn't a bad thing in itself, but you shouldn't be wondering and suspecting such things by yourself in the first place. Your father should've told you the truth.

When the congratulating wave had come back to the sea of seemingly sophisticated conversations and champagne tasting, your dad said, 'I want you to meet someone.' Your pulse grew at that. Would he introduce you to Kim Seokjin’s mother? Would he finally come clean, proving you he saw you as an adult?

Nope. Apparently you were the one still needing to prove him you weren't a child. He did not introduce you to Kim Seokjin's mother. Instead he led you to a spot in the room where Seokjin himself (alone) was standing with a glass of champagne. What did this mean?

A smile flickered on the man's face, when he saw you approach.

'This is Kim—

Your dad didn't get to finish the introduction, you interrupted him. 'Seokjin, yes, we already met.'

'Oh?' Your dad's eyebrows twitched upwards. 'You did?'

'Yup,' Seokjin said, grinning. 'I already met them both ___ and her boyfriend.'

Panic flooded in.

‘Boyfriend?’ Your dad questioned, utterly puzzled. You weren't supposed to introduce Jeongguk as your boyfriend. Whoopsie.

‘Oh,’ Seokjin gasped. ‘I’m sorry, I thought—

You didn't want him to feel guilty for your lies. ‘It’s okay,’ you reassured him. 'He knows; he just didn't expect you to know about it.'

‘Oh, whew.’ Seokjin laughed in relief, but his voice still sounded strained.

Your dad tried to appear nonchalant, but you could see he was tense and confused. Probably a bit mad at you for acting this way and spreading such knews amongst these people.

A few awkward moments later you excused yourself and immediately went to find Jeongguk.

‘I need to get some fresh air,’ you told him.

He looked worried again. ‘I know just the spot,’ he said.’

Having studied the hotel's map beforehand, Jeongguk led you out to the hall and down the corridor. He pressed the call button for the elevator. The event was being held on the second floor. The door glided open smoothly as it should in a five star hotel. Inside Jeongguk's finger pressed against one of the buttons, and suddenly, in the silence that followed, you were reminded of the way his finger landed on your knee earlier that night.

He only proved your theory about you being deprived of sincere touches, of genuine contact. He only touched you with one finger and he wasn‘t pushy or needy, he didn‘t need anything more, didn‘t expect something in return. It was only for your own good; Jeongguk was caring for you; he was putting an effort into reminding you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to calm you down with that soft, warm smile of his.

When the elevator came to a halt on the first floor still saying nothing you both stepped into the lobby. Wordlessly, he led you through the doors in the back of the hotel.

You were still swimming in your own thoughts. He did something selfless for you, and what did you do? You selfishly reached for his hand and placed it upon your knee, seeking not only for comfort but also thrill. There was guilt gnawing in the back of your mind, but there was also a little voice there saying that he could‘ve easily withdrawn his hand if he wanted to. He didn‘t. He kept it there until the end of the speeches. And if you weren‘t mistaken his smile seemed genuine when you glanced at him a couple of times. Though there was a thin line between him being sincere and him being an obsequious employee.

There were bushes and plants like thuja, meticulously cut and standing gracefully. Lots of green under the moonlight and some solar lamps placed strategically as to properly exhibit the beauty of nature at night by not overwhelming the charm of the night itself.

There was a path snaking its way amongst rose bushes. The view eventually opened up to a glorious fountain.

‘Beautiful,’ you breathed in awe, intending to leave the problems behind you in the hotel and fully immersing into the allure of the place.

Jeongguk sat on one of the benches placed around the fountain; you followed suit.

‘So,’ you said, ‘you have a plan for any kind of situation that could end up hurting me?’

‘Not any situation, but…’

‘Imagine someone’s head popping up out of the water.’ You gestured toward the fountain.

Jeongguk smiled. ’Well that’s pretty unrealistic, but—

‘Okay, then tell me something realistic.’

‘No one could know for sure you’d go outside tonight. If they have people here, then they have even more people inside. Since I don’t have a gun, I’d have to assert the situation quickly and get you to a safe place, call for backup. If I couldn’t get you to a safe place quickly enough, I’d have to be your shield.’

‘Meaning?’ You asked, intrigued. He couldn’t be talking about—

‘Jumping in front of a bullet.’

‘Damn. You’d really do that?’

‘It’s my job.’

That was hot, if you were being honest.

However, the image of Jeongguk taking a bullet for you was interrupted by your father. Not him physically, but the idea of him. Him and his lies.

Why did he wanted you to meet Seokjin? For the same reason as your grandmother? That would be incredibly weird.

‘Why do people lie to me?’ You asked.

Jeongguk inhaled, exhaled slowly, but came up with nothing. ‘I don‘t know...’

‘Why did you lie to me?’

He gave you a confused look. ‘I didnt—

‘When I said you were with your friends or whatever you didn‘t deny it.’

A sigh. ‘I didn‘t want to—I wanted to look cool, I guess.’

‘Cool?’ you smiled. ‘Having friends doesn’t exactly make you cool.’

‘I know, I just... your life is...’ Jeongguk gestured toward the fountain in attempt of trying to show what he meant. ‘And my life is...’ he lowered his head.

‘My life isn‘t only glorious fountains, you know.’

‘Yes, I know,’ he quickly agreed.

‘But I get it.’

‘You do?’ He had hopeful eyes.

You nodded. ‘My life can look glorious at times, but it isn‘t only sunshine and rainbows. You don‘t have to look cool or anything. Just be yourself.’

Jeongguk grinned. ‘Okay.’

You could see the wind whoosh past the plants on the left, then grazing past the bushes on the right, brushing against your skin on the way. It was a cold one. You quivered.

‘Here.’ Having noticed it, Jeongguk took his suit jacket off and gently placed it upon your shoulders. It felt warm.

‘What a gentleman you are, Jeongguk.’

He lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug, grinning.

You noticed his tie was a little loose, just the tiniest bit. You couldn‘t help but reach over and fix it.

Your fingers worked graciously. ‘A really nice tie. You choose it yourself?’

Jeongguk was smiling. ‘With the help of an employee in the store.’

‘Well, you both have great taste then.’

Being that close to him, you spotted a tiny scar on his cheek that you hadn‘t noticed before. Your hand reached up on its own accord. You touched it lightly.

He watched your hand.

‘How did you get it?’

You watched his lips.

His lips were pink, plump and looked very kissable.

‘I got in a fist fight as a kid.’

‘You fight often?’

He glanced at your lips as well as your gaze moved from his lips to his eyes. ‘No. I actually hate fighting.’

‘But you‘d fight for me?’

One corner of his lips twitched upwards. ‘Absolutely.’

That was when you leaned forward. You halted your movement just when you noticed that Jeongguk started leaning in too. What the hell were you doing? He was your bodyguard.

He stopped as well.

Just millimetres away from his lips you murmured rather seductively (either because of the alcohol or the sheer thrill of the situation), ‘Do you want me to kiss you?’

Jeongguk gulped. ‘Yes,’ he whispered barely audibly.

You smiled. ‘What was that? I couldn‘t hear you.’

He inhaled and closed his eyes as if that would help with his embarrassment. ‘Yes, I do, miss ____.’

There it was again—he called you miss. But this time it seemed so different. The word fell from his lips in a way that made you want to kiss him even more.

You didn‘t stop smiling. ‘You‘re a good boy, Jeongguk.’ You realized didn‘t deserve him.

You pulled away, facing the fountain. ‘Too good.’

‘Wha—what‘s that supposed to mean?’

You exhaled. ‘Nothing you should over think.’

You thought about giving the jacket back to him, but decided against it. Having your father see you with your bodyguard’s jacket on your shoulders seemed a good idea, even if created by the slightly childish side of you.

You stood up, strolled toward the hotel, then turned around to call for your stunned bodyguard. ‘C’mon. It’s time to make our exit.’

#armiesnet #kwriterskollection #busanboysnet #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jeongguk #bts bodyguard au #bts fake dating au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #jungkook x you #true care #joonsgalaxy #was kyut-tea

1K notes · View notes

disabled-queen-hc-blog · 6 years ago

Text

((Author’s notes: Lol don’t ignore your hypos babes. This was like a uhhh vent piece bc I’ve started a new job and keep getting hypos at inconvenient times. Also bc we need more T1 rep out there. symptoms lists will always be like “oh they get shaky and pale and sweaty” meanwhile I’m over here like,,,, bruh that ain’t HALF of it. So. Have this ig lmao???))

The thing about hypos and performance nerves was: at the start, they feel the same.

John’s legs would feel heavy, he’d be sweaty, he’d shake. Then, ninety eight percent of the time, he’d go onstage and start playing with his best friends in the whole world and lose himself in the music, and those feelings would go away. (Well, not the sweating, but he was sweating for a different reason).

It had taken a bit of trial and error getting used to the feeling. They went through a lot of juice boxes and emergency shots of insulin trying to steady himself when he misjudged what was and wasn’t a hypo. That was years ago now though, and most of the time he had everything totally worked out with his body.

Most of the time.

The feeling had initially passed as excitement and adrenaline flooded his body as they started their concert. John played his bass and danced along to their music while Roger and Brian played with him and Freddie did his thing out front of the stage, exciting the crowd.

When his legs started feeling heavy again about half an hour into their set, he figured he was just tired. This was the third consecutive day they’d been playing. Forty five minutes into their set, and his legs were not just heavy but hollow as well, the feeling even starting to extend to his arms, he knew he was fucked.

It was fine, though. Another fifteen minutes of playing and they’d have a brief intermission where he could fix himself up. He was fine. He’d be fine. There was a huge catering table provided to them and all their crew, he’d have plenty to up his sugars.

His stomach panged at the thought, and he was suddenly uncomfortably aware of how fucking starving he was. God, he wanted to eat so bad… the song ended, and Freddie was doing his ay-ohs giving John a moment to study his hand. It was shaking, but not badly. He was sweating more than he usually was, and he must look pale, because Brian was throwing him a concerned look and miming the action of using a lancet.

John gave him a thumbs up and a smile. He felt like fucking shit, but it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before, and nothing he wouldn’t deal with again. Hypos fucking sucked and whoever decided they should exist should go die in a fire, but he was fine. His feet started to hurt from holding up his weight, and he was still starving, and his legs were heavy and hollow, and his arms were starting to go hollow too, and all he wanted to do was sit down and eat and eat and eat, and he just felt shaky, and he was actually shaking judging by the trembling of his fingers, and he was cold and wet from sweat.

But it was annoying having to stop the show. It would only be fifteen more minutes. The intermission was there just for this type of thing! He knew his limits. He wasn’t going to pass out in fifteen minutes. He’d feel like absolute shit and feel like dying, but he’d make it. He wouldn’t have to bother anyone about this dumb little bitch of a disease. Fucking stupid diabetes. Stupid bitch ass hypos making him feel like shit. Who did they think they were. Always popping up at the most inconvenient times. Could never happen, say, when they were passing a lolly shop, nooo, only while he was trying to do his fucking job. Stupid idiot blood cells attacking his pancreas. Bitch ass little ho cells wanting their damn sugar.

He kept himself going like that until Freddie started talking to the crowd about them taking a break. Instead of sticking around and listening to his best friend make a five minute speech about them all getting laid or someshit, he just walked off. He handed his bass to one of the crew without his usual thank you, or even a smile. Yeah, maybe he’d pushed it a bit too far this time. Just a smidge. He’d been fine once he reached the catering table.

Fine he was, downing two glasses of full strength coke and piling one of the tiny plates with one of each of the pastries, as well as some of the savoury stuff. The other three found him sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the table, about a quarter through his plate, feeling better but still hungry.

“John Richard Deacon.” Freddie admonished, placing his hands on his hips. John grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But it was fine! I’m fine, see? Just hungry.” And sleepy, and a little sore still, but he wouldn’t mention that.

Freddie kneeled down in front of him, his face concerned, his mother hen instincts kicked into over-gear after not having noticed while they were on stage. John could see the cogs working in his brain and reached out to squeeze his arm.

“I only started feeling bad towards the end of Sheer Heart Attack, I wasn’t out there dying for long, I promise. If you wanna help me, please get me another fruit tart. I’m not ready to get up yet and it was sooo goooood.” He moaned exaggeratedly, the act getting a smile out of Freddie like he hoped.

The frontman huffed, rolling his eyes, but pushed himself up to actually get John another. Roger whacked him lightly on the back of the head, but otherwise didn’t say anything about the subject as he grabbed his own food and sat beside him on the floor. Freddie joined them, and Brian sighed, towering above them for a minute before grinning and caving, also sitting on the floor.

They spent the rest of their intermission there, eating and talking and laughing, John finally feeling better by the time they had to go back out. Brian stopped them before they left, looking down at him.

“Seriously though, John. You know if you need it any of us can distract them for a few minutes while you look after yourself. The last thing we want is you feeling bad, even if you’re ‘fine’, or ‘you’ll last’.”

John felt his heart swell. It always felt good to be reminded how much you were loved. He smiled at his friends and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.” He replied, rolling his eyes slightly as they just continued to look at him. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you guys know next time! Okay?”

“Splendid, darling. Now let’s finish our show.” Freddie grinned, taking him by the arm and dragging him back towards the stage.

#submission #lovely!! poor john ;o;#john #type 1 diabetic!john #mickeygayrightsmouse

22 notes · View notes

stormquill · 6 years ago

Text

Misconduct, Ch. 11 [Soldier 76/Reader]

You have an extremely inappropriate crush on your commanding officer. Maybe if you work hard enough, you’ll stop having feelings.

[ AO3 Link ]

Author's Notes: Collaboration with @antiloquist. Follow the blog @ http://miss-conduct.tumblr.com/

Chapter Notes: look man it's been a solid year and a half i don't really have anything to say for myself lmao

The dead of night gave you plenty of cover as you kept perched atop your roof, overlooking the harbour.

Several days of recon had pointed to the indication that Amélie would be prepped for transport tonight, smuggled aboard one of the many ships bound for the Atlantic the following morning. However, some last-minute digging had uncovered Amélie herself—safe and sound in suspended animation—hidden away in a repair dock on the opposite side of the harbour.

You and 76 had the upper hand for three simple reasons: first, you were aware of the trap waiting for you at the harbour; second, you knew the real location of your target; and third, they weren’t expecting your Commander to be approaching the situation with backup.

76 was advancing towards the repair docks at that very moment. All you had to do was sit tight and pay attention to their presence at the harbour, in case there were any additional circumstances you hadn’t accounted for.

Surprisingly, getting out was the easy part.

The dropship was already in-range. Your handheld evacuation devices—the ones you’d developed with Winston to make your technology more portable—would transport its wearers to the main evac apparatus, installed safely on-board. One of the major flaws of the new tech was that, like its outdated, bulkier version, all nodes had to be activated at once, and once they were activated, it took several hours for them to recharge.

There were three devices in total—one with you, two with 76—and as soon as he confirmed that he’d affixed one to Amélie, you would activate the devices and transport all three of you onto the dropship.

Wait for 76’s confirmation. Hit a button.

“Easy,” you reassured yourself.

You were so tired.

Maybe it was a good thing, you thought. The unholy mess of stress and exhaustion numbed your fear and steadied the grasp on your rifle. At the same time, however, it dulled your senses, making you feel unreactive, and slow. As much as you didn’t want to dwell on the idea, you couldn’t wait to be rid of this mission.

You didn’t tell him that, of course.

Your Commander had glanced down at you before you parted ways, the glaring light of his visor back to the familiar cherry red that suited him most. When you held his gaze, a sinking feeling dropped heavy in your gut, with the inescapable anxiety of absolutely everything going wrong. You’d completed enough training and gone on enough missions throughout your lifetime to be able to control these last-minute fears, but within that moment, you couldn’t shake them off as easily as normal.

“Nothing reckless,” was all you said, “we promised.”

He nodded.

You felt stupid for thinking it at a moment like this, but you wanted to nestle against him again until your raging nerves ebbed to a crawl, until his scent was all you needed as reassurance that everything would be alright.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before you realized you were holding your breath.

“Good luck out there,” you settled on.

“You, too.”

And that was the last you saw of him.

Sudden noises drew you from the memory.

A box truck pulled into the streets below, near one of the boats docked along the harbour. Once they killed the engine, four men rushed out of the vehicle and rounded towards the back of it, hoisting the rear door and prepping to transport something out.

“Athena,” you whispered, voice still feeling too loud in the chill of the early morning. “How many heat signatures in the back of the truck?”

“Calculating...” The female tone was cool and even in your ear. “Detecting six additional heat signatures in the back of the vehicle.”

Four in sight, six in hiding.

Hissing urgent commands at one another, the four visible agents worked together to ease a massive crate from the truck onto a large metal dolly.

“And how many signatures that crate?” you asked.

“Zero.”

As expected, you thought. The crate was a decoy. They were expecting 76 to muscle his way in—and maybe, if you weren’t here, that’s exactly what he would’ve done, only to be met with an empty container and an ambush.

...you both should’ve been gone by now.

You touched the communication device clipped to your ear. “Commander, do you read me? Do we have an ETA on evac? Over.”

The silence sent your mind racing.

“Athena, can I get a status report on the Commander?”

“Vital signs: stable. Communications online. Evacuation node two is prepared for activation. Evacuation node three is prepared for activation.”

Then why the hell wasn’t he responding?

The answer was obvious—he must have encountered enemy interference, either en route or at site. However, the agents below were still maneuvering the decoy cargo towards their ship docked at the harbour, meaning neither them nor the ambush in hiding had been notified of the compromise.

That meant you could still buy him time.

“Commander,” you started, “assume contingency 32B. If I do not receive orders within five minutes, we abort without payload. Athena?”

“Understood. Initiating contingency 32B.”

A split-second later, several cracks shattered the air like fireworks, as every hidden camera your Commander had planted in the immediate area self-destructed.

Neighborhood dogs began barking. Windows of nearby apartment complexes lit with newly woken civilians. The agents below surrounded the dolly, drawing their own guns in response.

Amidst the sudden confusion, you balanced your rifle along the edge of the rooftop, charged your shot to maximum power, and fired at the ship—another crash echoed through the harbour as you blew a hole in the ship’s main hull. The damage wasn’t enough to sink it, but it was enough to keep it from disembarking—more importantly, it was enough to get their attention.

The hidden agents were already piling out of the back of the box truck, while those guarding the dolly shouted and pointed towards your rooftop. Though the shot had given away your position, you immediately lined up another, this time aiming for the vehicle’s engine. The explosion tore through the air louder than any disruption that had come before it. You ducked for cover just before automatic fire began spraying in your direction.

The self-destructing cameras had woken up half the neighborhood, so French authorities would be on their way. You made yourself out to be someone making a play for the fake cargo, which would buy 76 a few extra minutes. And you’d crippled the agents’ ground transportation, meaning they couldn’t fall back to your Commander’s current position, even if they were called to retreat.

Rifle slung around your shoulder, you fell back. You could already hear the heavy footfalls of enemy agents scrambling up your fire escape; you headed for the opposite side, instead, using your grappling equipment to hook onto the roof’s edge and scale down the side of the building.

Three agents were standing guard at the bottom of the fire escape.

You hit the ground running.

Enemy fire sent your heart rattling inside your chest like a bell in a cage, but you kept focused. You’d studied the layouts of these alleys a hundred times over, and outmaneuvering the enemy was child’s play—but the knowledge of what was behind every corner did nothing to ease the sound of their bullets ricocheting as they missed, blasting off bits of brick and concrete around you.

Behind this dumpster. Through this door. Right turn. Left turn. Right turn. Right.

You couldn’t let yourself get hurt again. Not after last time.

“Payload secured,” came the voice you were waiting for, like music to your ears. “Requesting evac.”

“Copy.”

And you hit the button.

Teleportation felt like being yanked by a set of wires tied to your ribcage—it always left you feeling disoriented and unsteady on your feet, even as you made solid contact with the floor of the dropship.

The sight of the unconscious woman jarred you to your senses. Though she was unarmed and barely out of stasis, you weren’t about to underestimate the lethality of a known Talon agent held in such high regard.

Falling over yourself with urgency, you rushed over to the side of her unmoving form. You lifted her body, bridal-style, to the small holding chamber in the back of the dropship, and sat her upright.

You sealed the door shut, and stumbled backwards with the shock of what you’d just done.

You did it.

You rescued her.

As your adrenaline-fueled haste died down, the electric excitement vibrating within your chest replaced itself with a cold, harrowing realization—that the dropship was far too quiet, far too empty around you.

You knew what was behind you before you bothered turning around.

A spent evacuation node sat on the floor where your Commander should have been standing.

“Athena,” you near-whispered, voice weak, “status report?”

“Vital signs: unstable. Communications offline. Evacuation node two, offline. Evacuation node three, offline.”

You took a deep, shaky breath.

You knew what you had to do.

To say you hadn’t planned for this was a lie.

Of course you’d planned for it—you’d planned every iteration of every possibility of any combination of the three of you becoming compromised. The contingency of this scenario was clear: neither one of you would leave without the other. Surely, he’d know that.

Surely, he knew you were coming.

All three of your evacuation nodes were spent, which meant you would have to get him out the good old-fashioned way. The question gnawing at you remained: what could have happened that necessitated him removing the transportation device from himself? The node was an instant get-out-of-jail-free card, one which hadn’t been damaged or malfunctioning at time of transport, so why would he ever take it off?

You didn’t have much time to wonder.

Athena dropped you off as close as she could to your Commander’s last known coordinates on the dry docks.

If your positions were switched, you had little doubt 76 would’ve come after you, guns blazing, regardless of enemy numbers or positioning, but you couldn’t afford the same bravado. If you were too heavily outnumbered, trying to get him out on your own would be nothing short of suicide. For 76 to have been taken down, you expected to be faced with an army.

But the dry docks were barren when you arrived. Almost serene.

There were no signs of recent activity in the area, let alone of a recent fight. Aside from 76’s signal pinging you from across the docks, Athena confirmed there were no other heat signatures in the immediate area.

Had he been abducted, maybe? Taken to a secondary location without his tech?

You shook your head, doing your best to parse contingency from paranoia. You were approaching the cargo ship where Amélie’s body was being held mere minutes earlier—unfamiliar enemy territory—and you needed to pay attention.

Readying your weapon, you ascended the set of metal stairs along the side of the ship; already, your footsteps sounded far too loud.

The large, open deck of the cargo vessel was crowded with storage units—massive, rectangular metal boxes of identical shapes and sizes stacked on top of each other like multi-coloured building blocks. As you approached 76’s signal, you kept your steps light and your wits about you, checking your corners while keeping your back pressed to solid surfaces. The deck was dark, claustrophobic, terrible grounds for a fight—if it weren’t for Athena’s confirmation there were no other living souls on-board, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in here without backup.

The pinging in your ear grew more rapid as 76’s signal became stronger on your radar.

To your right, an open storage unit containing the now-empty stasis machine, still running, casting an ice-blue light across the deck and illuminating the scene before you.

Several toppled cargo units crowded the area, all of which were heavily damaged with massive dents and bullet holes. The path of destruction led to the rear-most area of the deck.

A splash of blood was illuminated brilliantly against the dark surface of the ship, awash in the stasis machine’s ice-blue glow, as if it were under blacklight. Another spatter, smeared along the side of a storage container. Several drips along the metal flooring, rounding the corner of another open unit nearby...

You checked your corners before checking inside.

Inside the open storage container sat the form of a man in the glow of his own cherry red visor, hunched over with a hand pressed to his thigh, a pool of his own blood seeping beneath him.

“Don’t,” 76 croaked, sounding weaker than you’d ever heard him, “it’s a trap—”

Reflexes kicking in, you raised your weapon and did a swift 180, aim landing on the head of the other man standing behind you.

And you fired.

You thought you missed, at first—your laser burned a hole in the storage unit behind him—but you realized your shot had gone through him, as the man’s entire body morphed into a cloud of black vapour before your charge made contact.

This didn’t make any sense. There wasn’t anyone else alive on this ship.

You’d checked.

“Athena?” you whispered.

“Target possesses no heat signature. Target possesses no pulse.”

The insinuation of her words sent your mind reeling.

You had no contingencies for this.

The swirling cloud solidified into being once more. Hooded and broad-shouldered, the man towered before you, the sharp edges of his bone-white mask glinting in the blue light. His gloved hands—every finger clawed with a sharp silver talon—carried a mammoth pair of black shotguns you could’ve easily mistaken for cinder blocks. He was black leather and red adornments. He was dread and absolute foreboding.

The partner in more ways than one.

The one he cared about finding.

And Gabriel Reyes laughed at you, his voice as ethereal as the rest of him. “You’re late.”

You blurted out the only words that came to mind. “What the fuck?”

“...eloquent.”

As much as you were trembling, you didn’t lower your gun. “You’re here to kill us, then?”

“And if I am?”

“Anything happens to either us, Amélie is dead,” you snapped. Your voice was much steadier than you were. “The dropship is already en route to headquarters—if we don’t both check in within the hour, it’s set to self-destruct.”

“That so?” His claws readjusted their grip on his shotguns. “How were you planning on getting out of here?”

“Dunno.” You swallowed, hard. “Didn’t think that far ahead.”

He made an amused noise, low in his throat. “It’s been a while since you’ve had someone so willing to die for you, Jack.”

...Jack?

Attention faltering, your blood turned to ice beneath your skin. Pieces of the puzzle were jamming themselves into place, violently, all at once, and as the big picture revealed itself to you, you felt more and more like a complete fucking idiot for not having seen it earlier.

As if reading your mind, Gabriel tilted his head to the side.

“Oh my god,” he chuckled, darkly. “You didn’t know.”

You stood there, facing each other—his guns still at his side, yours still pointed at his head. If your Commander was Jack Morrison, that meant the Gabriel Reyes in front of you wasn’t just any Gabriel Reyes—this was the Gabriel Reyes, ex-commander of Blackwatch, public scapegoat for the first fall.

You suddenly found yourself in the company of men who were killed in an explosion nearly a decade ago and you no longer knew what was real.

“Congratulations, Jack,” said Gabriel. “You managed to find the one person on the planet who bought into the world’s worst-kept secret.”

“Leave them out of this,” snarled the voice behind you. “Your fight is with me.”

“Oh, but this is so much bigger than you and I. Why shouldn’t your new lackey come along for the ride?”

Your desire for an explanation outweighed your caution. “I thought you died, Commander Reyes.”

You could tell the use of his name gave him pause.

“He did,” he replied. “It’s ‘Reaper,’ now. Or did he leave that part out, too?”

Your breath caught in your chest. So not only was Gabriel Reyes still alive, but it was the true identity of the infamous terrorist you’d only ever heard rumours of. The ghost of the battlefield, the shadow of death, the one rumoured to steal the very souls of his victims until their bodies were nothing but dried husks—here he was, standing before you, dismantling your worldview one word at a time.

And yet, you didn’t want him to stop talking.

You lowered your rifle by an inch or two, just enough to better meet his gaze. “What did Commander Morrison do to you?”

He sneered beneath his mask. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would.”

Though you continued aiming at him, Reaper still had not yet raised his weapons against you. He seemed to consider you for a moment—your quivering hands, your unblinking gaze, your steadfast positioning in the face of common instinct screaming at you to run. The sounds of your Commander’s laboured breathing seemed to do little to break your resolve.

Were you really so curious?

Reaper took a few steps forward, his footfalls heavy against the ship deck.

“War is a game,” he said. “A game you can’t win if you’re the only side playing by the rules. But Jack was never one to get his hands dirty. That’s where I came in.”

He continued his approach. The closer he came, the less you could move.

“You’ll do what they ask. You’ll do what is needed. Then they’ll orchestrate your downfall, and deny they had anything to do with you.”

He was inches away from you, now.

He smelled like a battlefield—like death and decay, like earth and gunfire.

“There will always be war,” he continued, “and there will always be people they need to do their dirty work. People just like you.”

“I haven’t—”

“You’ve taken Lacroix. You already are.”

Though you managed to keep your rifle raised, your subconscious had already surrendered, knowing full well you posed no semblance of a threat to this anomaly of an undead man who could dissipate at will.

Slowly, carefully, he pushed the aim of your rifle off to the side, as if he were drawing a curtain in his way.

He closed the distance between you by pressing the tip of his shotgun beneath your chin, tilting your head up until you were gazing into the black sockets of his mask.

You hear your Commander’s voice call out one of your names. You can’t tell which one.

“Remember, when you leave this place.” His gravelled voice was low and deliberate. “Every breath you take is air I’ve let you swallow. Your every heartbeat is a gift from me. From this moment on, you are living on time I’ve allowed you to borrow. And I will be back to collect my dues.”

You barely registered the next words that left you. “I’ll be waiting.”

To your surprise, Reaper laughed. “You don’t deserve them, Jack.”

To your surprise, 76 responded. “I know.”

And Reaper was gone, dark plumes of smoke vanishing into thin air.

Once again, you didn’t have time to wonder.

You immediately unslung your rifle and yanked your jacket off, rushing to 76’s side, the floor of the storage unit scraping hard against your knees.

“...Reader.”

You reached for the side of his belt and pulled out the Biotic Field canister yourself, slamming it onto the ground and activating it. Reaper had prevented him from using it, you figured, in order to have 76’s unstable vital readings lure you here faster.

“Reader.”

You bundled your jacket and helped him apply more pressure to his thigh to stop the shotgun wound’s bleeding. The blood loss had made him several shades too pale, you noticed, but the flow already seemed to be easing as the biotic yellow glow knit his insides back together. It wasn’t going to be a complete recovery, but it would be enough to keep him stable until you reached headquarters.

A gloved hand brushed your bangs out of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You looked up to meet the light of his visor.

“Hey,” he offered, sounding almost playful.

“Hi,” you said back, still feeling numb.

“I know asking if you’re okay is a stupid question, but I’m asking it anyway.”

“I’m...compartmentalizing.” You took a sharp breath. “We’re not safe, yet. We need to get out of here.”

“Mm. How are we getting out of here?”

“Dropship’s on standby. Should be here in a few minutes.”

“I thought you said the dropship left.”

“I lied.”

With your jacket soaked through with blood, the fabric as a whole became easier to twist around; you wrapped the wet jacket firmly around his thigh, tying the sleeves into a tight knot to keep the makeshift tourniquet in place. He reacted little to the pain—he must have been exhausted.

“You took off the evac node,” you said, dully. “You took off the evac node to go after Reaper.”

You didn’t need to see the look on his face when his silence already spoke volumes.

“We promised.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Nothing reckless.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You promised.”

“I know.”

As hard as you willed against it, tears stung the corners of your eyes as you tried to look down to hide them, down at the rapidly blurring vision of your hands covered in his blood. The memory of you turning the corner and finding him sitting here, bleeding to death, rewound and replayed in your mind’s eye. What if he was hurt just a little worse?

What if you got here just a little too late?

“You promised.” Your cracking voice gave your tears away. “But you don’t give a shit about dying, do you?”

“Not until I met you.”

“Don’t give me that.” Your chest felt tight. “Not after what you just pulled. We could’ve gotten killed—Commander, I almost lost you—”

His hands reached for you, moving up to hold the sides of your face, and your words died in your throat. You could feel the blood in his gloves pressing against your cheeks—everything around you smelled like it now, smelled like him now, like regen and blood and leather—but he leaned his forehead to yours, and the warmth of his skin steadied you.

You’d never felt him tremble, before.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he breathed, and the way his voice broke on the words shook you to your core. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of his faltering only made you break worse. Your shoulders shaking, tears still streaming down your face, you held your hands against his, keeping them pressed against you—he was holding onto you as if he needed you to anchor him in place, as if you were the only thing on this earth keeping him tethered to it.

For the briefest of moments, he touches your lips to where his would be.

He passes out against your shoulder before you can register what happened.

And your dropship arrives.

#soldier 76 #soldier 76 x reader #overwatch oc #overwatch fic #misconduct

103 notes · View notes