#and i have everyone on here to thank. i can never really attribute my behavior to just myself haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cielie-voss · 1 year ago

Note

hi, can I make a request for an eddie fic? Like enemies to lovers where the reader is in a classic school band which is always in a fight with corroded coffin? Thanks a lot :D

You know I hate you, right?

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - Enemies to lovers

Warnings: swearing, Eddie and Reader being bitchy.

a/n: thank you so much, I loved this one, it's so sweet! I hope you like how it turned out!

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

Masterlist

“If I were your wife, I would poison your coffee!” Her screeching voice fills the cafeteria.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie stands up angrily and stomps a step towards her, "If I were your husband, I'd love to drink it!"

“She doesn’t mean it.” Shrugging, Gareth leans back in denial.

“Oh, she means it.” With a shake of his head, Jeff brings his friend out of his delusion. “And I couldn’t blame her.”

“Nonsense!” Gareth denies and continues to stick to his conviction.

“Jesus Christ, I’m counting the days until I don’t have to put up with this smug behavior from her anymore.” Grumbling, Eddie sits down at the table again, seething with anger at his eternal rival, who, also seething with anger, stomps away from the table.

"And her wannabe metal look... How I'd love to rip the studs off her vest."

“I bet he’d love to rip other things off her,” Dustin whispers to Gareth, unfortunately not as quietly as he intended to, and receives a bitterly angry look from the freak.

“Never in my life! And not in a thousand years and if we were the last two people in this universe!” he explains to his young friend with a disgusted grimace.

"And now? Where should we practice now?” After a few moments of deliberation, Jeff says what everyone at the table was silently wondering. After the water damage to Gareth's house, the garage was blocked. Unless the guys at Corroded Coffin would love to practice between Laundry baskets and boxes full of books. And at the gig in three months, according to rumors, people from the music industry will also be there to scout new talents. So nothing is more important than practice right now.

“So I guess we can forget about the music room,” Gareth sighs and leans back. “Thanks to our Prince Charming here.”

Eddie shoots up next to him indignantly. “Prince Charming?” His mouth opens and closes like a fish on land, trying to counter this sarcastic remark.

“What can I do about her being like that? A stupid, bitchy, snippy, unfriendly, unempathetic, arrogant wannabe alternative bitch?”

“You don't happen to have any more negative Attributes come to mind as these …”

“Seven, it was seven,” Dustin adds to Jeff’s remark about the line-up of unnecessary adjectives.

An uncomfortable, oppressive silence falls over them as everyone picks at their food thoughtfully.

“Maybe you’ll try again. Just… nicer?” Gareth suggests after what feels like an eternity, furrowing his eyebrows, ready for another angry tirade on Eddie's part.

“Yeah, maybe you should really try charm. You know, women are into that sort of thing. Flattery, nice words,” Jeff adds.

“Oh, and how do you know what women are into?” With a very exaggerated rolling of his eyes, Eddie turns to his friend. “Besides, I doubt there is even an ounce of femininity in this … bitch. And when it does, it's buried deep under a heap of arrogance. No, before I have to deal with her again, hell will freeze over. We'll find another rehearsal room."

XXX

The Hawkins High School music club has always been a tight-knit community, a sanctuary for those who revel in the soothing melodies of classical music. Y/N, with her cello in hand, was the epitome of this world. She thrives on the sweet symphonies that echo through the club's hallowed halls. As for Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of the local metal band and self-proclaimed "Metalhead," he was about to clash with this world in ways he couldn't have imagined.

One sunny afternoon, Eddie and his bandmates strolled into the music club's headquarters, hoping to secure a practice space for the coming months. Despite Eddies reluctance and constant complaints, they managed to talk to him, convince him that this is the only way to find some place to practice. Open confrontation is what they called it. And to keep everything nice and calm, they asked Dustin to help them negotiate.

Y/N, sitting amidst her fellow cellists, raises an eyebrow at the sight of these intruders. Their leather jackets and wild hair stood in stark contrast to the elegant formality she is used to. It is clear from the beginning that Eddie and his bandmates are unwanted guests.

"We need a place to practice," Eddie declares, his voice dripping with defiance.

Dustin added, "Yeah, and we're willing to pay."

“Pay?”, Gareth asks quietly with furrowed brows and leans to Jeff.

The music club's president, a stern guy named Brandon, stares them down. "This isn't a place for your noise," he sneeres.

Y/N's fingers tighten around her cello's neck, her disdain for the interlopers growing by the second. She has always despised their kind—the rebels, the rule-breakers. To her, music was a sacred refuge, and these delinquents threatened to disrupt it. Although she secretly began to find some peace - unlike the one she knew before - in listening to Metallica or even Iron Butterfly.

Eddie, undeterred by the icy glares and piercing remarks, leans in closer to Brandon. "We won't be here forever, just a few months. We won't interfere with your precious little concerts or rehearsals."

Brandon scoffed, his eyes flicking toward Y/N as if seeking her approval. "The answer is no."

Y/N, unable to contain her annoyance any longer, speaks up. “If you won’t take no for an answer, you have to discuss with the principal. And I’m pretty sure, since you’re definitely not his favorite student, he’s on our side. So I’m afraid you have to find another way to practice your … noise.” With her hands gesturing around their instruments, she puts on a smug grin.

Reluctant Dustin tugs at Eddie's vest. “Dude, come on. We’ll find another way.”

“Yeah, go on Freaks, find another way.”, she quips and shoos them out with waving hands.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, smirking as he shoots back, slowly walking towards her, nearer and nearer with every word until their noses nearly touch, "Oh we’ll find another way, little Beethoven. And it’ll bother you even more than sharing this room with us, just because I’d love to see the regret and defeat on your nasty, little face."

The room falls silent, the tension between them palpable. Their exchange has caught everyone off guard, a brief spark of some kind of chemistry amidst the hostility. But neither is willing to admit it.

XXX

In the following weeks, Eddie and his bandmates scoured Hawkins for any available practice spaces. Everywhere they went, doors slammed in their faces, and they were met with cold rejection. It seemed the music club's word had spread like wildfire, labeling them as outcasts.

“Shit. Fucking. Bullshit.” Gareth declares, as they leave another unsuccessful negotiation. “The gig is in two months. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know if this is a stupid idea. But… what about the hellfire club room?” Shrugging, Dustin turns to Eddie with this last resort.

“The-” Eddie takes a deep breath and clenches his hand into a fist, bringing it dangerously close to his face waving around. “The Hellfire Room? Why didn’t we think of this before?!”

Now that a new rehearsal space was found, Corroded Coffin spent every free minute practicing. Of course, to the great dismay of the music club, which was only a few rooms away. Their unruly appearance and the thunderous echoes of their music didn't sit well with the club's traditionalists. A constant battle ensued as to who is louder; Corroded Coffin with their covers of Metallica, Van Halen and Co, or the Music Club with their cello and piano version of Mendelssohn's ‘Song without words’.

One evening, Y/N is practicing with her cello alone when she hears the distant sound of an electric guitar. Curiosity piqued, she follows the music, which stops and starts playing again every now and then, paired with a string of curse words until she stumbles upon an abandoned classroom. There, she finds Eddie, his fingers dancing across the guitar strings, lost in the raw passion of his music and the frustration in not hitting the right tones.

In that moment, Y/N is captivated by the power and emotion in Eddie's playing. It is a stark contrast to the elegance of her cello, but it resonated with her in a way she couldn't explain. She leans against the doorway, silently listening, her earlier animosity momentarily forgotten.

Eddie notices her presence but doesn't stop playing. He smirks and quips, "Enjoying the noise?"

Y/N bites her lip, feeling a strange sense of connection. "It's not noise," she admits, surprising even herself. “And you’re playing it wrong.”

Before Eddie even has the chance to say a word, she continues and takes a step towards him. “Your fingers are too slow. If you would move your index finger faster from here - “ She raises her hand and mimics his hand, still wrapped around his guitar, making it easier to understand for him, “ - to here, you would get the right tone. But either way your finger is too slow, or you just simply don’t know how to actually play guitar.”

Still with furrowed brows, Eddie cocks his head. She’s not wrong. She’s absolutely right. And that bugs him.

“But actually, in my opinion, the latter is the case. Well … “

“Woah, woah, woah! Stop, little Beethoven!” He carefully lays down his guitar, then turns to her, raising his hands indignant. “So you are trying to tell me, Edward Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin, that I can’t play guitar?” Laughing contemptuously he leans forward and grabs one of the little silly pompoms hanging down from her jacket. “You don’t even know what real music is and you have the audacity to tell me how to play my guitar?”

Rolling with her eyes, Y/N brushes off his hand and sighs. “Dickhead.”, she hisses under her breath, reaching out to his guitar. Before Eddies mind has the chance to comprehend what is happening, she wraps her hand around the neck of said instrument.

“See, you play it this way.” Her fingers glide smoothly over the strings, mimicking his previous playing.

With his eyes wide in shock, he follows her actions. She is good. Really good, actually. But of course Eddie is way too proud to admit it, so he rolls with his eyes and laughs.

“And this is how it’s really done.” She continues the song, but plays the right chords. And damn, she was right. That’s why it never sounded good when Eddie was playing.

“You know, you’re really getting on my nerves, little Beethoven.” Ripping his guitar out of her hands, and pushing her outside of the room again, he desperately tries to fight against the butterflies inside his stomach. But this? Damn, without him knowing, his mind decided that this was damn sexy. And he hates himself for feeling this way.

From that day on, Y/N finds herself drawn to the abandoned classroom. She begins to bring her cello along - pretending to feel safer when she isn’t all alone in the school at night practicing-, while Eddie shreds his incredible solos. Every now and then, he even lets her play with his guitar, acting dumb and like he needs some help from her. They still exchange barbs and insults, but there is a newfound camaraderie beneath it all.

One evening, after a particularly intense jam session, Eddie looks at Y/N, who has brought her own guitar this time, his eyes softened. "You know," he begins hesitantly, "you're not half bad on that guitar of yours."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Coming from a Metalhead and lead guitarist, that's a compliment, I suppose."

Eddie grins and for the first time, it isn’t a taunting grin. It’s genuine, filled with a warmth Y/N had never seen before.

As the weeks pass, Eddie and Y/N's secret jam sessions continue. They are enemies turned to unlikely allies, and the more they play together, the more their mutual attraction grows. The music club's rejection has pushed them together, and in the process, they discovered a love for each other's worlds.

And the more he gets to know her, the more he realizes that she isn’t just some wannabe alternative bitch, but a real alternative bitch, listening to Metallica, Mötley Crüe and Slayer in secret. He hates to admit it, but he really starts to have a crush on her. Which, of course, his bandmates and friends start to notice.

One evening, after they played a haunting melody that blended their two musical styles, Y/N leans in, her lips brushing against Eddie's ear. "You know," she whispers and his hand automatically finds its place on her knee, "if I were your wife, I'd make you coffee every morning." What is happening? She never even dared to think about getting near to the freak, let alone imagining enjoying this intimacy she recently has with him. Her heart is beating so fast, he nearly could hear its pounding.

Eddie's heart skips a beat, and the tips of his ears start to turn into a burning red as he whispers back, "And if I were your husband, I'd drink it every day."

Carefully he lets his hand run through her soft hair only to stop at her cheek, cupping her face with his calloused hand. He feels the heat of her breath against his neck as she leans further into his touch. Their lips meet in a fiery kiss, sealing the unspoken bond that has formed between them. The enemies-turned-lovers have found their harmony, a fusion of metal and classical music that was as unique as their love story.

“You know I hate you, right?”, he whispers out of breath between kisses.

“Hell yeah,”, she answers, smiling against his lips. “As much as I hate you too.”

In Hawkins, where strange things always seem to happen, the most unexpected love has blossomed between a Metalhead and a Cello player, proving that even the fiercest enemies could become the sweetest of lovers.

xxx

Thank you for reading! 🫶 If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eddie munson request #eddie fanfiction #corroded coffin #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fluff

112 notes · View notes

k-s-morgan · 1 year ago

Text

Hello Ekateryna! First of all, I hope you’re well and that you haven’t been too badly affected by recent events. This situation is disastrous.

I went to church recently and lit a candle for you and your loved ones. It’s nothing more than a small act of faith, and some people would find it stupid. But they say that as long as you have hope, you have life. In our hearts.

Concerning your latest piece of fiction on time travel (about Harry and Tom), there’s a question that’s been bothering me. Let me explain: back then, people spoke differently; accents were different, elocution was different, expressions were different; people even used words that today are considered obsolete. Anyway, my question is: how does Harry manage to fit in despite all this? Doesn’t it occur to anyone that the way he talks is really very odd or even very inappropriate? (The way we talk today might be considered vulgar or completely out of place by people of that time). I understand if you find my question fussy, but I’m genuinely curious.

On the same theme, in relation to the divergence of the times: does Harry have enough general knowledge to, for example, talk about politics or current affairs, or wizards and Muggles in those two spheres? Does he know the music, the fashions, the… OK, I mean, does he know enough about the times to fit in without people thinking, “This guy’s an alien”? Or, on the contrary, do the people they talk to at Hogwarts find him strange, but don’t tell him so? Does Harry come across as eccentric? That would be really funny, in a sad-funny way, but funny nonetheless.

I hope you don’t mind my asking. In any case, thank you for the time and energy you devote to your stories. I send you my love and I wish you courage for the future. I send you my love.

----------------------------------------------------

Hi! Thank you so, so much for caring and lighting the candle for me and my family... This means a lot to me. I was so touched to read your ask, and when I told my Mom about it, she actually cried.

And thank you for an interesting question! I do have an explanation for how Harry is perceived by everyone. Since there is an intensifying war with Grindelwald, a lot of people are displaced. Harry arrived to Hogwarts as an orphan. We know there are other students in a similar situation, like Aline, who changed the countries, so most people automatically assume that Harry also came from some other part of the world. Everyone suspects that he’s an illegitimate part of the Potters family, so the general idea is that he was sent away for some other people to raise him, as far from England as possible, but that he still received proper education. So he knows English and he knows the spells, but a lot about his behavior and habits come across as somewhat unusual.

No one asked him anything for now for different reasons: some depend on Tom to make a decision if someone is worthy of any consideration; others don’t want to touch the mess with the Potters; some despise Slytherins too much while others are just not interested. This will change now the more Harry becomes a part of Tom’s closest circle.

As for Harry’s knowledge, I think he’s completely clueless about the majority of things :D He knows some things about WW2, but any specifics allude him; he can recognize some music but he’ll never be able to tell what period it is from. Right now, he doesn’t really talk to most people for these general innocent topics to come up, but it’ll start popping up here and there, with more people remarking on how weird Harry is.

Tom, in turn, just attributes any weirdness to the differences between his world and Harry’s (fake) one. It’s really a very convenient excuse :D

#submission #my fics #tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #atlwetd #personal #ukraine

37 notes · View notes

artandhijinks · 1 year ago

Text

Why I believe in the TV show all of Marius's fledgelings need to be POC

I mentioned in my post about possible future interview with the vampire characters that can be race swapped, that I thought all of Marius's fledglings needed to be race swapped. I know it sounds a little weird but hear me out

For some reason Anne liked to draw this weird comparison in between Lestat and Marius something about how they looked alike and they were Aryan. It was weird. But the reason I think all of his fledglings need to be race swapped is the same reason I think Nikki needs to be white. Mostly on social media some people are worried if they race swap Nikki Lestat could be accused of fetishism which is true and exactly why I would make all of Marius's fledglings poc.

Have him go full Colonizer as in he adopts these poor fledgling of color and teachers/colonizes them into what he thinks of vampires should be. Which is a very european westernized view of society and culture. Because like I said before, he rescues them same mentality the European colonizers rescued the indigenous people of the new world. They gave them god and civilization so they should be thankful and willingly give up their natural resources. Or in the case of Marius and his fledgling, it's the dark gift in exchange for him to do as he pleases to their bodies and that's putting it lightly. Even in the modern day I would like preferably Daniel to confront him or at least pointed out that it's a little weird that all of his fledgling that he slept with under questionable circumstances at best are POC. But Marius is also one of the oldest and most powerful vampires in existence so nobody can really do anything about it so he literally gets to live based on power and privilege alone. So everyone just has to tolerate him.

But back to this weird comparison to Lestat. My veiw is that Nikki needs to remain white simply so we don't get this colonizer fetishes comparison that label needs to belong to Marius and David. Lestat is an ignorant idiot that doesn't understand race relations for the most part, and when it comes to Lestat's racist behavior, I don't think we should be contributing to malice what could just as easily be contributed to stupidity. And because I believe most of Lestat's bad behavior should be attributed to religious trauma and the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, not because he is prejudiced against POC. And as long as modern day Lestat is genuinely trying to understand the nuance of race relations and is working towards understanding. Compared to Marius who does not care, never will and will always blame his fledgling for not conforming to his standards. He's already doing better even if he's got a long way to go.

I know it sounds weird but it's playing into this colonization theme. And I don't think they're just planning on adding it but they already have. A fellow Tumblr user @lynnenne wrote a series of essays about the theme of colonization in season 1. I will link them here. So, characters specifically Marius and David, are the two big characters moving forward I see this being used for but really any older vampire could be guilty of this in some way.

#interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv #iwtv meta #marius de romanus #my meta

23 notes · View notes

sillyfudgemonkeys · 1 year ago

Note

So I gather that King Goomba is a twitter user, right? Would you be able to explain the context behind the Goomba stuff? Have they done something in the past? Thank you.

I know people have said things about King Goomba outside the one big thing he's known for, but I....don't remember whatever that was. But here's a rough outline on his lore.

The thing he's known for is "#BreakFreePersona(5)", it's where he went on every Atlus post (and I think Nintendo related post) to get P5 on the Switch. And I mean vanilla P5, back in like 2017ish I wanna say (blame Smash Bros). This is because the idea around the fandom was "bother Atlus and they'll do it" and this glorious bastard did just that.

The thing that annoyed the fandom the most (barring the side that didn't mind/liked him) was he was overly persistent. Like going as far to post to Nintendo and other nintendo related games on twitter about it (aka unrelated to Persona/Atlus). Which can be annoying, but like.....just block him?

He was never malicious, usually just copying and pasting "This is great, but it'd be better if you put P5 on the switch!" (and then later updated to P5R when it got announced).

Anyway, he got his wish with P5R on the switch.....................but his job was not done. Oh no sir.

I think he might've slowed his roll just a tad, but he is still batting for Soul Hackers 2 on Switch. And it looks like he's batting for FeMC too (I beat him to it klsadjfkla but I'm glad he's going to bat for us). (I wanna say he wants SMTV on other consoles too but I can't remember).

I agree with him, I want the games on all the platforms too. I ain't complaining. Shit I think I might've mentioned that the fans should do that prior to Goomba starting (I know I didn't inspire anyone I think it was an off handed mention on here if I did say it akdjfslf). I think people attribute his behavior to some Persona video that mentioned "break free Persona"?

ANYWAY, so my part time job allows me to talk to xbox/sony/nintendo reps from time to time. And prior to Persona coming to Xbox/Nintendo (at least non Q games) I would ask their thoughts on Megaten coming to their consoles (answer was always "of course we'd love to, but it's up to Atlus....." which yeah. askldfjad). But for shits and giggles I'd bring up Goomba a few times (I've moved a bit so I've seen a few diff reps bc of that) and they knew of him. They were aware, they saw his comments. And again "Yeah we'd want that, but Atlus......." so Atlus probs saw it too.

So I say "I'm going Goomba" bc that's what I'm going to do. What he did lsadfjklaf I'm not really copying hoping it'll take off like his, I just know the reps of those companies will probs see it and get annoyed/tired/irked by me at the very least if I do it enough. I'm aiming to be the biggest thorn in their side. Petty? Yeah, well.......maybe they shouldn't have remade the vanilla version of the game when everyone was voting for a P3 remake BECAUSE we wanted a definitive version TT0TT

#silly asks #silly answers #king goomba #lillipupzilla

2 notes · View notes

crescentfool · 3 years ago

Note

I love your blog it sparks joy :)

ANON HELLO????? i got ur message last night and damn im about to keel over from kindness (again, to no one's surprise, lmao). seriously!!! thank you so much!

i know that this ask has a similar sentiment to the one that i just answered- but i can't help but reiterate... thank you for the incredibly sweet words!

i really enjoy being here on tumblr, it's slow-paced and chill, and the tagging system is BLESSED (god do i love when people say stuff in tags).. so i'm really happy that my blog can be a part of that positive experience for you! i do what i can to make this corner of the internet a brighter place- so knowing that it's reached you makes me truly happy. seriously!! thank you so much.

i hope that whatever you're doing right now makes you happy anon!! thank you for stopping by the inbox- you keep being you anon! im support u and appreciate ur words sm 🥺💙

#lizzy askbox #WHATS UP WITH THE KIND ASKS LATELY??? IM SO. SURPRISED PIKICHA FACE AT ALL THIS (in a good way!!)#seriously though im really happy to be here on the hellsite (affectionate). i feel really grateful to have had such a positive experience!#and i have everyone on here to thank. i can never really attribute my behavior to just myself haha #i feel that i am heavily inspired by previous tumblr users and whatnot. they are simply Goals To Me #but also i just see people and im like. YOU!!! FRIEND-SHAPED!! (intense smiling)#i havent really been posting my 'own' stuff as much as i would like but one day. im glad ppl enjoy my vibes either way tho!#and i just wanna say i enjoy the anon vibes too. and the ppl who reblog things that i reblog. yall are Wonderful!!!!#i get a lot of entertainment whenever people reblog things and tag them with funny shiet so i hope my tags are entertaining too? idk LMAO #ANYWAY THANK U ANON IM GOING TO JUMP UP AND DOWN LIKE A HYPEREXCITED PERSON ur so sweet ty (sobs profusely)

5 notes · View notes

lipstickstainz · 4 years ago

Text

mismatched socks - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer's girlfriend (reader, FBI agent too) always wears mismatched socks and when they have their first night together at his apartment he notices, and his brain goes to mush, and falls in love with her even more

Warnings: fluff, some talk about Spencer being insecure Word Count: 2.2k A/N: thanks for the request, love! I really enjoyed writing it! requests are open guys! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had always known he was different. He had always been the smartest in school, which could be attributed to his eidetic memory. He wasn't invited to birthday parties because he liked to tell facts that were funny to him, but that no one else found funny. And he had been rather an oddball in other ways, too.

All his life this fact had made him insecure. He thought of himself as too skinny, too unathletic-especially when he compared himself to Derek, which was pretty stupid, of course-and his hair always lay funny, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He wore cardigans over shirts-the watch over the cardigan, of course-which was pretty weird, but he wore Converse with them and two different socks every day. He loved magic and physics jokes. Spencer couldn't talk about the latest episode of Greys Anatomy, and he wasn't sure what Team Stefan and Team Damon were. Spencer didn't fit in perfectly anywhere and it had taken him time to accept that. He also never imagined anyone would find in attractive, or even want to be with him.

Until you came along.

On your first day at BAU, he immediately noticed three things about you. First, you walked incredibly fast, actually too fast to just walk from one office to the next. It seemed to her as if you were flying. Second, you tucked your hair behind your ears every few minutes, even when it wasn't falling in your face. He wondered why you didn't use a pin or a scrunchie. But it was a habit that didn't bother him in the least. From the moment he first saw you, he found you irresistibly pretty, and he was glad your hair didn't cover your face. And third, you could write ambidextrously. As the team sat in the conference room and you scribbled something in your case file - also something he noticed, you seemed to prefer paper as much as he did - you reached for your coffee cup with your right hand and continued to write undisturbed with your left, until the entire team looked at you as if you were from another star. It was a look Spencer knew all too well.

He had never met anyone like you.

Spencer liked you from the first moment he saw you. He liked that you took your backpack on both shoulders and that you preferred cocoa to coffee. He liked the way you smiled at him when he brought you one from the office kitchen and set it on your desk. And he liked the way your skin felt on his when you reached under the desk for his hand when you noticed a change in his demeanor. You then squeezed his hand twice. Once for "It's all right" and once for "I'm here, with you."

In your presence, everything seemed as easy as breathing. You listened to him when he blathered on about a subject you didn't understand, because you liked his intelligence and the way he explained things without looking down on others. You even asked when he had to explain something to you, which had surprised him so much the first few times that he had completely forgotten what your conversation was about. He had stared at you and the blush had come to his face. One feature that didn't escape you, but made him even more attractive to you.

When you went to his table one morning and told him that you had seen Star Trek for the first time the previous night, and now wondered how realistic the physics in the movie were, he could hardly stand it. You were beautiful and intelligent and interested in Star Trek? And when you asked him if he could explain something from the movie to you, he was sure his dream girl was standing right in front of him.

"I need your help", he told Derek that very day as they stood together in the kitchen. "How do I ask a girl out?"

Derek nearly choked on his coffee before turning to Spencer. "Since when do you want to date?" He noticed Spencer's gaze, which wasn't on him, but slid past him and lingered on you.You sat at your desk and tucked your hair behind your ears before looking up and over at Spencer's desk. Derek could see your gaze wander around the office and then linger on Spencer before you smiled and got back to work. With a grin, Derek looked at Spencer. "You're going to ask Y/N out on a date? Oh boy, it's about time you finally do. I already said to Penelope that -"

"Please, Morgan. I just want to know how to ask her out”, Spencer interrupted him, looking at his friend.

Derek's grin gave way to an honest, friendly smile. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just ask her directly."

"And if she says no?", asked Spencer uncertainly, his mouth twisting into a thin line. He couldn't imagine you going on a date with him, but he couldn't stay in the dark any longer either. He had to at least try.

"She won't”, Derek assured him. The whole team felt that Spencer and you would be perfect for each other, but he didn't tell him that. Spencer should learn to walk before he starts running. "I can see the way she looks at you. And if she does say no, she's not as smart as I thought."

Spencer trusted Derek's words and took it upon himself to ask you out on a date that very day. He had phrased the question countless times in his head, even encouraging himself in the mirror in the men's room, but every time he stood in front of you and looked at your beautiful face, he couldn't get a single word out. They got stuck in his throat and he was so embarrassed that he fled from you several times. By the third time, he had red marks on his neck, which you noticed immediately, and you wondered how you had made him so uncomfortable without having really done anything. When he said nothing again, you put your hand on his forearm.

"Are you okay, Spencer?", you asked, and he just nodded. It's now or never.

"Wouldyougooutwithme?" He almost mumbled, but you had understood him perfectly. "If you don't want to, that's fine, and we'll pretend I never asked. We'll just keep being friends and -"

"Spencer," you interrupted, smiling up at him, "I'd love to go out with you," you replied, and he was able to breathe deeply again. The marks on his neck faded as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

He had done it. Spencer had asked you and you had agreed, but where was he going to take you? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Going out to eat was nice, but you didn't seem like someone who needed to talk the whole time. He thought movie theaters were dumb because you couldn't talk there at all. After two days he had thought of something and he wouldn't have minded if you thought the idea was stupid, but when he presented his idea to you, you smiled at him excitedly.

"I can't wait."

You spent your first date in Spencer's favorite library, surrounded by knowledge and stories. You walked the aisles together, telling stories of books you had read and found to be good, and books you had abandoned because they were so bad you couldn't finish them. As you walked through each aisle, which had actually taken an entire afternoon, Spencer didn't want the date to end. He was going to suggest something else, but you beat him to it.

"There's a couch over there. Shall we sit there? Then you can read me something from your favorite book."

You would be the death of him.

A few weeks later, you had arranged to go for a walk. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cool, so you strolled hand in hand along the paths. He liked the fact that you worked together but couldn't just talk about the job. You were explaining to him why a certain Matt Donavan from a vampire series was incredibly annoying when someone stopped in front of you.

"Y/N! How nice to see you!", the young woman said, unceremoniously wrapping her arms around you. When she broke away from you, you looked at Spencer.

"Spencer, this is Lisa, my college roommate. Lisa, this is Spencer, my boyfriend”, you explained before you could think about what you had just said. You chatted briefly before going your separate ways again. You noticed a change in Spencer's behavior and feared you had misinterpreted everything. When you couldn't take it anymore, you stopped.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you my boyfriend”, you said, looking down at the ground in shame. "We've never talked about what exactly we are, but it feels like you're my boyfriend and I wish you were, so I -"

"Y/N”, he interrupted you and tenderly reached for your hand. A smile spread across his face. He couldn't believe himself that he would ask you that. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The bar was crowded and the later it got, the more crowded you felt. The team had been in the mood to celebrate after a difficult case, so everyone had gathered in the regular bar. Penelope was putting on some dance moves on the dance floor while Emily and JJ were bawling out the song, which neither Spencer nor you knew. He had his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side, which you enjoyed very much. He didn't fit in here with his shirt and cardigan, but he fit you, you were one hundred percent sure of that.

As you stifled a yawn, he looked down at you. "Shall we go? You seem tired and I'm getting ready to go to bed too”, he suggested and you nodded. Outside, he hailed you a cab and as you got in, you gave the driver Spencer's address.

"We're going to my place?", asked Spencer, looking at you in confusion as you nestled into his side.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay”, you replied, "If it's too soon for you for us to sleep together, then you just have to say so. I won't be mad at you."

How could he be mad at you? You wanted to spend the night with him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He had hit the jackpot.

"Would you like to drink something?", he asked as you sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. It wasn't the first time you'd been in his apartment, but you'd never entered his bedroom before and you didn't want to take the step without him. It was still his apartment and his privacy and you respected that.

"Just water, please”, you replied, pulling your legs up so he could sit next to you. He handed you the glass and you took a big gulp.

In your presence, Spencer had never felt like an oddball. You never made him feel like he was different or weird. You didn't laugh at him, you laughed with him, and you had assured him many times how incredibly attractive he was to you, even if he couldn't see it. He wasn't too skinny or too unathletic for you. He dressed askew, but it suited him like a glove and you had imagined more than once what he would look like without clothes. It didn't bother you in the least that he wasn't interested in the technology of today. For you, he was just right. For you, he was perfect.

Even though you often assured him how much you liked him and how happy you were with him, he was still insecure from time to time. But as you sat there together on the couch and you put your legs on his thighs, he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't need to be insecure. On your left foot was a green sock, while on your right dangled an orange sock.

You wore the socks like he did. Two different ones. Had you seen this on him and copied it or had you always worn socks like this? A question that could be answered later. His heart stopped for a second, his brain turned to mush, which is why he couldn't control his following words either. "I think I love you."

Surprised, you looked to him and noticed that his gaze lingered on your socks. "You see my socks and then say you love me? Maybe something isn't going right in that clever head of yours”, you grinned and leaned towards him. Blushes shot up his face. "I love you too, Spencer."

Gently, you placed your lips on his. The kiss was tender, hesitant, but Spencer saw his chance and gently pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His heart threatened to overflow with love. As he placed his hands on your butt, you moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled.

In your presence, he didn't feel like he was different.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid gif #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #Jennifer jereau

2K notes · View notes

sk3tch404 · 3 years ago

Text

UPDATED RULES 💜

BEFORE REQUESTING: Please do just know this blog is my hobby more than anything else! I love interaction of here, but I hate feeling overwhelmed. That's why with requests, I see them more as fun suggestions. Not to say I don't value everyone's time or ideas, I personally don't want to pressure myself with work at the cost of my own happiness! Thank you for understanding. :)

JUST A GENERAL RULE FOR ALL MEDIA: Please know that I am only into darker and more logical themes rather than fantastical ones. While i do enjoy your wild imaginations, I don't find myself interested with things such as, "Reader has so and so supernatural ability." Or, "Reader is from a desolate and faraway place." I personally dislike having reader be so mysteriously whimsical and having physical mysterious powers or attributes. Same goes for characters. No hate or shade to any of yall! This is just my preference. I've just have never been into themes that stray off of canon or realistic storylines! Rather, don't be scared to send in an ask that deals with darker subjects! It's my favorite!!

I do drawing and writing requests! Please specify if which of the two you'd like if you request :) Also, I only do character x reader! Commissions can be character x character.

RED indicates the fandoms I'm most willing to do atm!

DNI List: Inc3st enjoyers, Proshippers, racists, transphobes, homophobes, and people who age up minor characters for lewd purposes ESPECIALLY. Tbh just 😟😟 people

Y/n will always stay gender neutral until requested otherwise

THINGS I WILL ACCEPT:

Remember, as long as you keep these rules in mind, feel absolutely free to send in whatever kind of ask you'd like! It can be tame or very dark, your choice!!

Noncon Touch (No nsfw)

Yandere!!

Suggestive actions (Again, no explicit nsfw)

Heavy subjects (mental health, grief, and such)

Violence (My favorite ideas are the degenerate and depraved ones!)

Poly relationships (no more than 2 characters requested)

THINGS I WILL NOT ACCEPT

Extreme g0re or extreme domestic abu$e (violence against reader is fine. I just hate yans beating their darlings 💔)

Any form of incest

Adult x minor

Non human x Y/n (Exceptions can be made if the character has human traits and human behaviors, an example could be Luchino from Idenity V)

Smut/nsfw

Kinks like Scat, p!ss, daddy kink, ddlg, etc. (feel free to indulge in other depraved subjects, just nothing of that sort explicitly!! Also I hate fics that deal with like... Ped0 coded stuff, so yeah.)

Skins/costumes (sometimes they have back stories/origins and I like sticking to the original/staying as canon as possible)

Hybrid/furry reader or character (Sorry, I dont really know how to do those kinds of scenarios. I don't really enjoy treating characters as other than human most of the time)

Broken/emotionless Y/n ( I just feel like theres no thrill or emotion to be held in a situation like that. It's lil obvi on my part lol)

FANDOMS I'M INTERESTED IN:

Identity V

Demon Slayer

Jujutsu Kaisen

Hunter X Hunter

Tokyo Revengers

Genshin Impact

All Saints Street

Record of Ragnarok

Arcane

Metal Family

Psycho Cuties

Jojo's Bizzare Adventure

CHARACTERS I WILL DO

Demon slayer: Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Rengoku, Tengen, Mitsuri, Douma, Kokushibo, Genya, Sanemi, Obanai, Giyuu, Hantengu clones, and Akaza

Identity V: Naib, Eli, Aseop, Norton, Mike, Victor, Andrew, Edgar, Ganji, Joseph, Wu chang, Jack, and Antonio

Jujutsu Kaisen: Yuuji, Megumi, Gojo, Miwa, Geto, Hanami, and Nanami

Hunter X Hunter: Kurapika, Chrollo, Phinks, Nobunaga, Uvogin, Shalnark, Feitan, Pakunoda, Machi, and Illumi

Tokyo Revengers (All timelines): Takemichi, Chifuyu, Baji, Smiley, Angry, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Sanzu, Kazutora, Taiju, Shion, Hanma, Kakucho, Kokonoi, the Haitanis, Takeomi, Mikey, Izana, Draken and inui

Genshin Impact: Kayea, Diluc, Childe, Itto, Xingqiu, Zhongli, Tighnari, Cyno, Alhaitham, Pantalone, Capitano, and Dottore

All Saints Street: Ira, Nini/Neil, Damao, and that angel dude

Record of Ragnarok: Buddah, Shiva, Loki, Thor, and Hermes

Arcane: Silco, Jayce, and Viktor

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (Parts 1-6) : Jotaro, Kakyion, Young Joseph, Josuke, Rohan, Terunosuke Miyamoto, Yoshikage Kira, Giorno, Bruno, Abbachio, Narancia, Fugo, Mista, Risotto, Melone, Ghiaccio, Proscuttio, Diavolo, Doppio, Weather Report, and Anasui

Metal Family: Glam/Sebastian, Ches. Dee, and Heavy

Psycho Cuties : Doctor Masacrik

I ask you to be respectful and understanding when discussing things with me or when sending in requests. If I seem to delete your ask by free will and decision, acknowledge that it was my right to do so as a content creator and as a person. You will be blocked or reported if you are continuously rude or are behaving in a inappropriate way (Sending in comments or ideas that contain a bit of thirsting is fine, just be appropriate and mindful!) All I want is for everyone to have a good time with my works. Thank you so much.

153 notes · View notes

daringyounggrayson · 3 years ago

Text

misplaced guilt

(Read below or on AO3)

It’s been a while since Bruce has been to one of these galas, and for once, he is neither hosting nor making a speech. It’s a nice change, to say the least.

Dick is sitting next to him, kicking his legs under the table. Bruce would tell him to stop, but at least he’s actually using the chair as intended with both feet closer to the floor than the chair, so Bruce lets it go for the moment. If it gets too out of control, he can always reach out and stop him, but for now, he’ll let the kid release some pent-up energy.

Bruce keeps half of his attention on Dick and the other half on his conversation with Jasmine Owen, a woman who works at one of Gotham’s youth centers. Bruce knew from the second she introduced herself that she came over in hopes of getting a donation, but he doesn’t mind; that’s one of the main purposes of these things, and Bruce is happy to help however he can.

“Babs,” Dick gasps excitedly, shooting upright when he catches Barbara walk into the room, Commissioner Gordon by her side. Bruce looks over at Dick, quirking an eyebrow. Dick smiles back, asks in his I’m-in-public-so-I’m-behaving-like-an-angel voice, “May I please be excused?”

“Hnn,” Bruce says, pretending to think over his answer.

“Bruce,” Dick whines.

Bruce smiles. “Alright. But stay in the ballroom. Dinner is going to be served soon.”

“Okay, thanks!” he slides out of his chair and offers a wave. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Owen.”

“And you, Richard,” she smiles back. When he’s gone, she turns to Bruce again and says, “He’s a sweet kid.”

Bruce can’t help but think at least in public, and at least to people who aren’t me. He’s half-joking, but there’s some truth to the statement: Dick has always seemed to behave better for Alfred, and he’s nothing if not an angel around strangers, even when he’s mad at Bruce.

At home, it’s not that Dick isn’t a good kid—he is—but he’s still a kid. Dick can be sassy, and he has a taste for anything that will make Bruce’s hair turn gray (usually dangerous, usually far away from the ground). He also has no qualms about making fun of Bruce when Dick feels it’s called for. Then there are the arguments, the borderline tantrums. Both have been decreasing in frequency, and Bruce attributes most of them to processing and coming to terms with his parents’ murder, but they are—difficult, to say the least. Dick will have these rough days—sometimes rough weeks—where he’ll lash out at Bruce over the smallest things. Sometimes it seems like he yells at Bruce just to put his hurt somewhere.

Bruce tries to take all of it—from the jokes at his expense that even he has to admit are funny, to the meltdowns—as a good sign, one that says Dick feels secure and knows that Bruce will love him regardless of his behavior or attitude. But there are certainly days when Bruce thinks it would be nice if Dick would listen to him like he listens to Alfred—like when Bruce tells him to get off of the unstable shed roof, for example.

Despite the challenges that come with raising a child, there are also so many blessings. There’s no other word to describe it. Seeing Dick learn and grow and thrive is something Bruce will never get tired of. On top of that, Dick is just this brilliant, funny, and kind child. He has the biggest heart Bruce has ever seen, and he cares so deeply and widely. Bruce doesn’t know how he got so lucky. Dick is Bruce’s light, his whole world.

Bruce pulls himself out of his head, says, “He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” It’s something he can say with complete honesty. “Do you have kids?”

“Oh god, no. I think I’m still a little young for that,” she laughs. Then, thinking about what she said, her face falls. “Not that you were too young, just for me, I’d rather—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He puts his hands up and smiles. “I was really young when I took Dick in. I go to parent-teacher conferences, and most of the other parents are at least ten years older than me. But I like to think I’m doing alright, and Dick’s happy, so that’s all that matters.”

“Yes, I suppose.” She smiles, but looks down at the table.

“So, what’s it like day-to-day at the youth center?”

She looks up, coming alive again, and the conversation picks back up.

oOo

After dinner, Dick and Barbara disappear again, and Bruce is left alone to mingle. Most people come to him, but he only has to escape a few times, so it’s going about as good as these things can go.

That is until a very urgent Barbara runs into him and tugs on his arm. “Sorry everyone, but I need to borrow Brucie for a second.”

Bruce ducks down to look Barbara in the eye. “What is it?”

“Dick. Just come with me.”

He follows her without another word to the group of people he was talking to. She leads him into the hall and toward the lobby. When they turn the corner, Dick is on the ground in a lateral recumbent position. Gordon is talking to him gently, though Dick seems unresponsive.

“Dick.” Bruce lurches forward, falling to his knees and reaching out to find Dick’s pulse and check his breathing. “What happened?”

“Barbara thinks he had a seizure,” Gordon answers. “An ambulance will be here soon.”

Dick’s breath hitches and he lets out a low moan that feels like a twisting dagger in Bruce’s chest. His eyes find Bruce’s, and he unwraps one hand from his stomach to reach for Bruce’s. Bruce takes it, squeezing it gently in a reassuring manner.

“I’m right here,” Bruce promises, running a hand through Dick’s hair.

“It hurts,” Dick gasps.

“Shh, the paramedics are going to be here soon. We’ll fix it.”

Dick shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t feel right.”

Bruce tightens his grip slightly, hoping to keep Dick conscious. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Head, stomach,” Dick mumbles. “Feel hot, an’ dizzy.”

Bruce frowns, trying to determine what could be causing Dick’s symptoms. Is this the beginning of an illness, or a seizure disorder? Has Dick been poisoned? There was a run-in with Scarecrow a few nights ago, and Dick had needed to take an untested antidote for the fear toxin. Could this be a delayed reaction to the concoction Bruce had come up with?

Dick’s grip loosens.

“Dick?” Bruce calls urgently. “Dick!”

He gets no response.

oOo

Dick is staring at a white ceiling when he realizes he’s awake. Sunlight is streaming in through a giant window on his right, and there’s a framed painting of giraffes across from him. He’s tired and confused, and his gut tells him that something is wrong, that something bad happened. His first thought is that he wants his mom.

He turns his head to the left, finding Bruce in a chair and holding his hand.

“Hi,” Dick says, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. Bruce grunts some kind of greeting and raises Dick’s bed while Dick takes in the medical bracelets on his wrist—one ID bracelet and one that indicates that he’s a fall risk—and the IV in the back of his hand. “What happened?”

Bruce shifts in his chair, face serious. “We were at the gala. You were poisoned.”

Dick matches Bruce’s expression, trying to think. He remembers being with Babs, telling her that something was wrong. Then he’d been on the ground, and there’d been sirens.

“The man who poisoned you had planned to offer me the antidote for a price, but he didn’t realize that you would react to the poison so—so severely,” Bruce explains, rubbing his thumb over Dick’s knuckles. “He was working as one of the waiters and heard the commotion. He came forward shortly after the ambulance left and he’s currently in custody.”

Dick swallows. “Why did he . . .” Why did he poison Dick in the first place? Need money so badly? Feel that poisoning Dick was the only option? “Would it have killed me? If he didn’t give us the antidote.”

Bruce, like always, is honest with Dick. “The doctors were able to stabilize you, but they needed to neutralize the poison quickly, and the antidote did that. It’s hard to say what would have happened without it, but things were touch and go for a while.”

Dick nods, not sure what to say as he takes it in. Eventually, he asks, “How long have I been out?”

“A few days. You woke up a few times yesterday, but you were incoherent,” Bruce says.

Dick wracks his brain, trying to pull up some inaccessible memory.

“I’m sorry that this happened, Dick.”

Dick squeezes Bruce’s hand. “Not your fault.”

“Hnn.”

“What? Are you seriously guilty that you didn’t taste all of my food first or something? ‘Cause that’s nuts, B.”

Bruce says, “You are my child. I am allowed to feel guilty when I fail to protect you.”

“You didn’t fail,” Dick interjects. “I’m okay—really.”

Bruce’s face is still pinched and concerned, and he’s looking at Dick like he might fall apart. Dick leans toward him and stretches his arms out, and Bruce quickly pulls him into a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bruce,” Dick promises. And even to himself, it doesn’t sound like a reassurance most nine-year-olds should be giving. But it fits with his new life, he supposes. “I’m okay.”

Bruce tucks Dick’s head under his chin, says, “I was . . . I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Dick nods into Bruce’s chest and lets himself be held for another moment. It’s not the hug from his mom that he woke up wanting, but it’s close. It makes him feel safe and reminds him of home, and maybe that’s all Dick needs.

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #nightwing #batman #batfamily #tw: seizure #elizabeth writes

153 notes · View notes

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?”

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.”

His wife looked quite pleased with herself.

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.”

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.”

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-”

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.”

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?”

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out.

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live.

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.”

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.”

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because.

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili.

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction.

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.”

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...”

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting.

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.”��

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child.

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere.

#hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #cult girl #cult girl 2 #cult girl doctorate

99 notes · View notes

ashdumpsterpile · 3 years ago

Note

Ohmygod YES Susan Pevensie is awesome please talk to me about Susan i want to know everything you have to say

Literally THANK YOU for asking me this bc Susan Pevensie is a character I never get asked about and I have So Many Opinions.

I'm going to start by saying that Susan used to be my least favorite character in the series. This goes for the books and the movies. Some of it was for personal reasons--she reminds me of a couple of annoying ppl I know irl--but it was also bc I watched Prince Caspian which shoehorned her into a relationship with Caspian which I hated.

HOWEVER. I ended up rethinking this position after interacting with Susan fans and realizing that there are so many wonderful things to love about her!

(putting under the cut bc this got long)

Things Ash Loves About Susan Pevensie

Aight I'm not going to do a formal analysis yet on her, but instead rant about some of the unrelated things I adore about Susan Pevensie.

Susan the Archer

Look we all love archery here. I don't have anything more to say.

Okay, I actually do have more to say. I love the fact that Susan is a complete badass with the bow. You get the general impression that she's one of the royals in charge of public relations, traditions, foreign policy, etc. and yet she's the most competent archer in the series. One of the few things I liked about the movies is how they didn't downplay this. They actually let her be a badass and show off her skills.

Also the part where she kicks Trumpkin's ass was awesome.

Susan the Gentle

Susan being the most passive Pevensie was something I definitely underappreciated as a teenager. I think my non-ability to see past "I'm not like other girls" narrative and the combination of Susan being described as the most traditionally feminine woman in the Narnia series is what initially turned me off from her.

HOWEVER, now it's one of my favorite attributes! I love that Susan is a badass and the most beautiful woman in Narnia. She has hair down to her feet, every man and woman in the kingdom want to fuck her, and she's still a fucking badass who will not hesitate to kick your ass.

Susan the Sister

Most of my thoughts of Susan as an older sister mostly stem from my own personal headcanons, but she is an awesome sister to her siblings. She's Peter's voice of reason, Edmund's sass partner, and Lucy's big sister.

Susan the Mom-Friend

She is a literal mother-figure for Corin.

"[...] the most beautiful lady he had ever seen rose from her place and threw her arms round him and kissed him, saying: "Oh Corin, Corin, how could you? And thou and I such close friends ever since thy mother died. [...]"

-The Horse and His Boy, 33-34

Most everything I have to say about this ventures into headcanon territory, but I love the idea of Susan basically adopting Corin after his mom dies. The way she trusts Cor--who she thinks is Corin in this chapter--is really sweet and I wish we could've seen more of that relationship.

Susan the Flawed

Something I notice from the fandom is a lot of people who hate Susan tend to because of her flaws. On the other hand, most Susan stans like to wave away these flaws and blame C.S. Lewis for being misogynistic or Aslan for being a "cruel god" and ignore the fact that she is a deeply flawed person.

Susan gets something of a "reverse redemption arc" in The Chronicles of Narnia. This makes her not only a fascinating foil to Edmund--as both are analytical, logical people--but an interesting character by herself.

She starts out in TWW as very skeptical of Narnia and it's whole deal and also very condescending to Lucy throughout. She ultimately does admit that Lucy was right and does get on board with the whole prophecy at the same time Peter does, and ends the book being crowned "the Gentle Queen."

In The Horse and His Boy, she has a very interesting dynamic with Edmund and in even more interesting relationship with Rabadash. They don't even interact on-page with each other, but it's highly implied that she was interested in him when he was a guest in Narnia. His behavior obviously changed when she visited him in Tashbaan, but you have to wonder what their dynamic was like before for her to travel all the way to his home when relations between the countries were strained at best.

Prince Caspian is where the cracks start showing through. Susan has lived an entire life as an adult in Narnia, gets thrown back to England with her siblings, and is yet again in Narnia as a child. This book is what really emphasizes her one fatal flaw: convenience.

(Put a pin in that thought, I'll get back to it.)

Susan denies once again that Lucy saw something that the rest of them can't seen. She continues this narrative until every other sibling finally acknowledges Lucy in the right and only then does she apologize.

The last mention of Susan is in The Last Battle, where all of her flaws rise up against her in the worst way possible. I have a lot of controversial opinions on this that I'm going to address later, but I just want to say that Susan's reverse-redemption arc is something I actually like about her.

(There is also evidence that Susan does get a full redemption arc, just as Edmund and Eustace did, but C.S. Lewis was pretty much done with The Chronicles of Narnia at the point and instead encouraged fans to write their own version of how that went down.)

Okay, back to convenience being Susan's fatal flaw. So the one thing that comes up time and time again in the series is that Susan is very focused on material comforts. I believe it's implied that she's vain, and it's canonical that her own personal comfort spurs her to make decisions.

"[...] I really believed it was him — he, I mean — yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I'd let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and — and — oh, I don't know [...]"

Prince Caspian, 81

Prince Caspian has the strongest examples of Susan doing this, but certainly there's evidence elsewhere. There are a lot of fans who are distressed by this, claiming that Aslan and the others are too hard on her and shouldn't judge.

Honestly, I like that she's written with this flaw. Not only is it very relatable--(my own personal comfort and convenience is something I highly prioritize too)--but it humanizes a character who otherwise is ridiculously op and basically the Helen of Troy of the series. It may sound like I'm using this as an excuse to rant, but I really wouldn't have her any other way.

Susan As Portrayed by Anna Popplewell

Movie!Susan is a fucking delight.

She's sarcastic and badass and awesome and I could spend hours heaping praise on Anna's acting and her portrayal of Susan, but I can already tell that this post is going to be long so, I'll just stop here.

(10/10 want to be stabbed by her tho.)

Personal Headcanons

Let's talk about my fanon thoughts. I have many.

Susan is Aro

There's canonical evidence for this! Susan is a character who is heavily pursued by suitors everywhere, and even lets herself be courted by many of them, but chooses not to settle down. Even when she gets back to England and is described as only having interest in parties and material things, boys aren't mentioned.

I like to think that in The Horse in His Boy Susan was interested in Rabadash at first because he was a brilliant conversationalist. Nothing she says about him implies romantic interest, before and after she realizes the truth of his intentions.

Susan and Edmund Were Best Friends

This might be my love for The Horse and His Boy showing itself, but I think Susan and Edmund were thrown into circumstances where they interacted the most with each other.

Edmund is the ruler in charge of politics. Susan is the ruler in charge of Cair Paravel's public image. I imagine they spent time as ambassadors to other countries and planning royal functions.

They're also the most level-headed and logical out of their siblings, so they probably found a lot in common.

Susan Fancast

I literally just said I loved Anna's potrayal of Susan's (and I love what they gave us of older Susan too in LWW!), but I read the books in 2008 and my parents didn't let me see the movies bc I was like...nine years old and they thought it would be too scary.

So I had to headcanon my own interpretations.

Queen Susan the Gentle:

For some reason Merlin wasn't too scary for me to watch and I fell in love with Katie McGrath in like. Two episodes so. (On an unrelated note, I also fancast Bradley James as Peter at the time.)

Anyway, fanon Susan is basically Morgana Pendragon pre-evil arc. Sassy as hell, hot as fuck, and can kick your ass.

Unpopular Opinions

Yeah, feel free to skip this part if having controversial fandom opinions is a deal breaker for you.

The Problem With Susan Isn't Actually A Problem

I'm about to start so much discourse in the Narnia fandom, but C.S. Lewis's choices with her in The Last Battle weren't misogynistic. Bear in mind, I'm not saying that all of his writing choices in the series were A++ or excusing away certain racist/sexiest bits, but it's honestly baffling to me that people are so up in arms over Susan's exclusion in the final book.

So the part that everyone loses their shit over is as follows:

"My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

"Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up."

"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."

The Last Battle, 83-84

There's a lot to unpack here and I first want to say that everyone's opinion on this part, no matter how different than mine, is valid. I'm going to be quoting some other ppl's opinions on here and by no means am I bashing them. I just want to address my feelings on the matter and the best way to do that is to cite the thoughts of ppl who have opposing ideas.

Here are some arguments on Tumblr I've heard regarding "The Problem of Susan":

"How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn't deserted Susan? [...] What if we didn't tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn't have again."

"Narnia is filled with metaphors (often not very subtle ones) that are supposed to teach us how to be, and the most glaring one for any young girl to absorb is that it's okay to be a girl like Lucy, unthreatening and cheerful and valiant and faithful, but to be a girl like Susan gets you punished - in fact, you aren't just punished, you're destroyed."

"why do we call it ‘the problem’ where’s the problem about a young woman dealing with her trauma and choosing her own path, actively making the choice to keep living and to stay and to carve a life out in England when her siblings couldn’t? what is the problem about susan forgetting to somehow cope with what she’s experienced? why is it ‘the problem of susan’ that she recontextualised her faith?"

And then there's JK Rowling who said this:

There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She's become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.

It's weird how I'm still finding new ways to hate JKR in the year 2021. Again, there is absolutely zero implication that Susan had sex when she came back to England. ZERO. Did she actually read the books? IDK. If someone shares this opinion pls reply with actual canonical evidence.

Back on topic, I'm a firm believer of death of the author and interpreting art via your own experiences. Which is why I'm also going to share my own interpretation by saying y'all are wrong.

Susan Pevensie was not abandoned by Narnia. She was not barred from Narnia because she is traditionally feminine or because she "owned her sexuality" (another opinion I didn't have time to condense down for this post) or because she recontextualized her faith or even because she deserved to be punished.

I also fail to see how Susan recontexualized her faith, as the entire point of it all is that she has none. Bringing this back to Susan's fatal flaw (personal convenience/material comforts), her prioritizing herself over her own faith is the reason she is "no longer a friend of Narnia." Not...whatever fanon y'all are imposing on her character.

Susan is not being punished for liking lipstick and looking pretty. Susan's not even being punished. Y'all read Neil Gaiman's The Problem of Susan and forgot it wasn't canon.

There are many reasons Susan is not in Aslan's Country (one of them being that she's not actually dead yet), but the main one has to do with this:

"[...] But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 215-216

Yeah, okay that's why Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. The implication when the Pevensies are told that they can no longer enter Narnia is that they are to find Aslan in other places. Susan doesn't do this, instead choosing to focus her life on material things. It isn't the lipstick, it's that she only wants the lipstick.

Susan Had Sex In The Books

Oh and not in the context y'all are thinking. (Again, there are no implications that Susan was barred from Narnia for having sex or that she had sex when she came back to England.)

So there's actual canonical evidence that Susan and Rabadash had a sexual relationship. Sort of.

"What think you? We have been in this city fully three weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry this dark-faced lover of yours, this Prince Rabadash, or no?"

-The Horse and His Boy, 35

Edmund calls Rabadash her lover. Not her suitor. I don't know if the word had a different meaning in 1954, but it feels like C.S. Lewis is saying that they're fucking. I'm not really happy with the idea of Susan sleeping with an abuser, but really proud of her for Getting Some as a woman born in a time period where having premarital sex was a big no-no.

This also invalidates the weird opinion going on that Susan was barred from Narnia because she had sex.

Suspian Is The Worst

I haven't really talked about Movie!Susan much, but as long as we're talking unpopular opinions, it's worth noting that I hate Suspian. Some of it is the "Susan is Aro" headcanon screaming inside of me, but it's also the fact that it's written poorly, does nothing interesting for either character and generally comes across as awkward.

I feel like they were trying to make Prince Caspian sexy and relevant to teens. It came across as super heteronormative and unnecessary.

It also gets really really weird bc the next movie then gives Caspian and Edmund mad chemistry and we're all just like........ok.

Final Thoughts

Susan may not be my favorite character in the series, but she's grown on me over the years. I have many issues with fanon interpretations of her--which definately fueled some of my disdain for her initally--and I don't identify as a Susan Apologist.

I do however adore Susan and have many headcanons for her not mentioned here. I love reading fanfic, writing fanfic and meta, and generally having conversations about her and would love to talk more about it.

I welcome criticism (CONSTRUCTIVE) and conversation on all of my opinions and observations. Please drop into my inbox. <3

#susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #the problem of susan #narnia #meta #narnia meta #susan meta #ash does fandom #ash does meta

75 notes · View notes

extravaguk · 4 years ago

Text

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series.

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones.

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks?

But apparently, you did.

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone.

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve.

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin) falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now. Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence.

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question. Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips.

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall.

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby."

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes.

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you.

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck.

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace. It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing.

"Let me take you on a date."

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week.

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away.

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right.

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be.

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes.

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony.

"N-no!"

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out.

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed.

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful.

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one.

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance.

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible.

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth.

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future.

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you.

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

#jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts smut #bts #pjm #pjm smut #bad bunny is retiring like who the fuck does he think he is to decide when he gets to retire???#nah bb WE decide when you retire

401 notes · View notes

gronjon44 · 3 years ago

Text

Ok so I just finished Jurrasic Park: Camp Cretacious and honestly? So freaking rad.

Some mini highlights (without spoilers)

Yaz and Sammy are the best (I kept seeing stuff about the LGBT community in the CC fandom and like... idk what that'd about but if I had to genuinely ship anyone in this despite their being children it'd be Yaz and Sammy THEYRE SO CUTE

Kenji had an ACTUAL ARC (my boy got to do so much more this time around THANK YOU FOR LETTING HIM BE IN CHARGE)

Ben is STILL ANNOYING but for genuinely heartfelt reasons (also I was REALLY EXPECTING a big battle between Bumpy and the S-Rex)

Brooklynn and Darius are both awesome as always and the way the finally brought back his dad's love of the Gallimimus was really cute and IT MADE ME KINDA SAD

Now, bumping into spoiler territory here so you've been spoiler warned;

Wu making an actual appearance in S3 was something i genuinely wasn't expecting and seeing more interactions with him snd Brooklynn was really fun actually (Hawke and the mercenaries were generic mercenaries so there they've been honorably mentioned)

I'm not gonna lie S3 did what I wanted Fallen Kingdom to do with the horror element (the way it actually had MORE DEATH felt more like Jurrasic Park, the constant worry about the S-Rex and the utter chaos of the Islands shift in balance was super rad)

This is minor but WHEN WILL WE GET THE SPINOSAURUS BACK YOU ALMOST DID IT WITH THE OURONASURUS YOURE ALMOST THERE

There's more but I don't wanna make this unbearably long so click the read more

Every new dinosaur inclusion was rad, both in refference to other media and just Dinosaurs in general, but I wanna dedicate a moment to talk about the Scorpius Rex (oh look I remembered the name)

Scorpius Rex is everything I wanted the Indoraptor to be. Whereas the Indoraptor felt like a B-Grade version of the I-Rex whereas the Scorpius Rex felt more like an actual character.

Scorpius felt like a genuine threat that no one knew about and then the reveal that *SPOILER* there are 2 S-Rexs *insert Ian Malcolm quote here* was actually a really awesome twist (also the constant threat of Sammy almost dying was a nice touch cause THANK YOU JURRASIC PARK UNIVERSE FOR NOT BEING AFRAID TO ALMOST KILL KIDS)

But there's one thing about the Scorpius I wanna talk about that just sticks with me.

The Scorpius is stated to be the first hybrid before the Indoninous Rex but was kept hidden due to it being unstable, though we're never shown why outside of it being much more aggressive.

Wu goes on record stating it's unstable behavior and appearance are part of why it was kept hidden and like, you can't blame him with the appearance of it at least the I-Rex LOOKS like a semi plausible Dinosaur.

But then I got thinking, what about tbis hybrid could make it so unstable? What DNA was used to make it that could've turned it into a Savage monster?

Well if its a predecessor to the I-Rex we can assume they're mostly similar in DNA Makeup (the official Indominus Rex DNA Makeup consists of Abelisaurus, Carnotaurus, Majungasaurus, Rugops, Giganotosaurus, and Velociraptor DNA)

We also know the I-Rex has other DNA in it such as Cuttlefish , Tree frog, Pit Viper, and Chameleon DNA.

The Scorpius Rex likely had all the same base DNA as the I-Rex (T-Rex, Carnotaurus, Giganotosaurus, and Velociraptor, as well as some unnamed ones we might not be aware of Wu states that it gets its name and poisonous nature from the Scorpion Fish)

And we can see it has some similar traits to the I-Rex such as the Pit Viper and Tree Frog DNA.

But something about just doesn't seem... right. Something about it it seems more unnatural, almost more like a different animal entirely...

I'm almost 100% sure that the Scorpius Rex has Human DNA mixed within that melting pot of a monstrosity.

There's actually a bit of evidence that points to this I think (bare with me)

Look at how it stands and acts.

It doesn't quite stand like a natural dinosaur. You can argue that it stands like hunched over Tyrannosaurus or even a really fucked up Therizinosauria (which is stated to the JP Wiki to be mixed in with the Indominus Rex's DNA)

But even then it still doesn't stand naturally, and if you watch it run/walk it runs almost like a person when they try to run on all fours, it's forearms stretching out further then what most natural Dinosaurs do.

Now consider its intelligence.

This thing is MUCH more intelligent then most of the other Dinosaurs (bordering close to human as is) but that could be excused as the Raptor DNA like with the I-Rex, but it borders closer to human then you'd think it would (I don't have much to say for this one as it can be excused as Raptor DNA)

It's physical appearance

Now it's appearance can be attriebuted to mutplie factors (the shorter face could be a feature inherited from the Giganotosaurus or even the Carnotaurus since they have shorter faces); it's arms could be attributes inherited from anything (Raptor arms, T-Rex arms etc) but what gets me is the fact that it borders on having actual hands (its claws are much longer then any of the species it shares DNA with) and its arms are much longer then a T-Rex or a Velociraptor)n

Now this is a big one for me, but the scream

Alot of animals tend to have borderline human screams/howls and when you hear it in the wild and just think "Who tf is getting murdered rn?" Yeah the Scorpius is like that but worse; every dinosaur in the franchise has been shown to have either a natural sounding roar or even just some really loud growls and or howls. None of them have been shown to really scream or howl. Then the Scorpius just shows up and makes the Deer scream sound weak in comparison; Hell even Kenji makes a comment about it and th3 visible discomfort everyone feels when it screams shows that none of them would have even come close to being prepared for something of that scale.

Finally THIS CONCEPT ART

Anyone who's anyone remembers this concept art, and the idea that accompanied this where they did at one point consider human/dinosaur hybrids. And look me dead in the eye and try telling me there isn't SOME similarity between the S-Rex and this old art.

Thats about the gist of it so I'd like to end this off by saying this:

The Indoraptor is a bitch and the Scorpius Rex is the villain we deserved for Jurrasic World: Fallen Kingdom.

#scorpius rex #jurrasic park #jurrasic world #jurrasic park fallen kingdom #fallen kingdom #the indominus rex #the indoraptor #camp cretaceous #henry wu #netflix #dinosaurs #cartoon analysis #long ass rant

100 notes · View notes

mbti-notes · 3 years ago

Text

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

-----------------------

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

38 notes · View notes

the-sympathetic-villain · 4 years ago

Text

The Stowaway's Heart - Chapter 9

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil’s poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all are.

Word Count: 5935

Chapter Warnings: Flirting, Romantic contact, Sexual innuendo, Swearing, Anxiety, Self-esteem issues, Mentions of less than ideal childhoods (Let me know if I missed anything!)

---

“I do apologize, Virgil.” Logan stated, glancing at Remus for help before turning back to Virgil’s desperate expression. “I am struggling to understand why this is an issue. Please, help me understand what is bothering you.”

Virgil stared at his soulmates. His face flushed as he tried to find the right words to convey the sudden feeling of fight-or-flight response pulling at his mind. “I just—I don’t know. It's a lot.”

“It's just dinner, Doom and Gloom.” Remus chimed in playfully. “You won't even have to get naked or nothing—”

“Not helping, Re.” Virgil whined, massaging his temples as he tried to force away the growing ache in his head .

“Awww—Come on, pretty boy.” Remus cooed, curling an arm around his shoulder. “This ain't nothing you haven’t done before.”

Logan's soft chuckle drew Virgil’s attention up as Remus' limbs slowly wrapped around him. “Now, not that I believe Remus’ ego needs stroking—”

“Oh, Lolo.” Remus giggled in Virgil’s ear, mustache tickling his neck. “You make me blush.”

“Re, stop—” Virgil protested weakly, though he could feel his heartbeat start to slow as he melted into Remus’ arms. His skin tingled with warmth as Logan cleared his throat, drawing both their attention.

Logan's coy smiled gleamed down at Virgil as he stepped forward, raising a hand to Virgil’s cheek. “As I was saying, Remus is right. None of this is nothing new for you.”

“I know,” Virgil’s gaze fell as he went slack in Remus’ arms. His voice dropped, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “but it's different now.”

“What is different, Virgil?” Logan’s smile turned serious as he dropped down beside them.

Virgil bit his lip, hair falling over his eyes as his voice dropped to a whisper. “This is the first time I've been around everyone as an equal.”

“Oh, love.” Logan reached forward to brush the hair from Virgil’s face as Remus' arms squeezed him. “You've always been an equal.”

“I know. Everyone’s been perfectly nice. It’s just—” Virgil quickly lost his words, sighing in exasperation as he shrank back into Remus. “Listen, I get that this doesn’t make any sense, but—"

“It makes perfect sense, Dr. Doom.” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled in his ear as he sank deeper into his soulmate’s arms. “I mean, we boxed you up like a rabid animal. What were you supposed to think?”

“It’s not—it's not that.”

Silence hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before Logan asked the question Virgil had been evading. “What is it that is really bothering you then, dearest?”

“I'm not special.” Virgil whispered quietly, avoiding his soulmates’ eyes. “I'm surrounded by literal mythical beings and I’m just normal.”

“Well,” Logan chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Remus. “I must say I disagree with that sentiment. In fact, I do believe you may be the most special of all of us.”

Virgil’s eyes filled with confusion as he raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I am not.”

“I mean, going by statistics alone, you are the only full bred human among us. The rest of us are selkies.” Logan smirked coyly as he rested a hand on Virgil’s knee. “Therefore, if judging on rarity alone, you are special above all of us.”

“Only if you’re using the lamest metric possible to judge me on.”

“Oh, I am not finished dearest.” Logan smiled as Virgil grumbled. “You are strong where we are weak.”

“What?”

“You are not bound by a pelt, love.” Logan smirked as he traced his fingers up to where Virgil’s hand rested on his thigh. “Should humans land on the island, we are significantly safer with you around because you do not have the same weaknesses as us.”

Virgil hesitated, trying to ignore the tingling in his arm as Logan traced circles on his skin. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Certainly not, because it is as natural to you as breathing.” Logan smiled, not even looking up as he pulled a soft gasp from Virgil as he continued to gently massage his arm. “Much like you seem to overlook your ability to handle our pelts with such ease as a given attribute. Whereas to us, it is a show of incredible strength and self-restraint beyond that of most of your species.”

“I don’t think I should be praised for not turning you into a mindless drone, Lo.” Virgil raised his lip on disgust at the idea, though the expression was short-lived.

“Neither do I, Virgil.” Logan whispered as his fingertips reached Virgil’s elbow.

The light touches along Virgil’s joint sent gentle, lightning-like pulse up his arm, pulling another light gasp from him. “What are you do—”

“However, I do think it is worth considering that it translates to your other traits.” Logan continued quietly. He barely looked up, deep in focus as he rested Virgil’s hand back on his leg and picked up his other hand. “I have already commented on your near selfless behavior, and though I have my concerns about how your self-esteem fuels that trait, it is commendable nonetheless.”

“Logan—” Virgil whined, letting out a breathless sigh as Logan continued his methodic tracing of his arm.

Logan paused briefly, smirking up at the blissful look on Virgil’s face as Remus giggled behind him “Not to mention, I think it is worth noting that your interactions with Patton show that you are both empathetic and compassionate.”

“What are you doing?” Virgil whispered breathlessly.

“Reminding you of all the reasons you are special, love.” Logan whispered, feigning innocence as he smiled knowingly as Virgil’s eyes fluttered wearily.

“I was talking about whatever you’re doing to my arms, you bastard.” Virgil chided weakly, barely keeping his eyes open.

“Sometimes the energy conduits in your body constrict and stop flowing properly due to prolonged stress.” Logan smiled, stopping his movement as he reached up to brush Virgil’s hair from his eyes. “With some practice, I have figured out how to use the gentle application of pressure to allow the energy to flow more efficiently.”

Virgil groaned, rolling his head back into Remus' shoulder. “Do you ever play fair?”

“No,” Logan smirked, drawing his fingertips down Virgil’s jaw. “I have grown accustomed to getting my way.”

Virgil glared up at him, chewing on his lip. “I know I'm overreacting, but—”

“There is no shame in being nervous, dearest.” Logan interrupted gently, smiling reassuringly at him. “but you've contributed a great deal to our lives already and I hate to see you undermine your own value.”

“I haven’t done anything”

“Oh, please.” Remus hushed him with a smirk. “Your presence has changed everything around here.”

Logan’s expression softened as Virgil rolled his head back in disbelief. “What Remus says is true. Obviously, it goes without saying that you have had a significant effect on Remus and I but I think perhaps you don't see the way your presence has affected the others.”

“What do you mean?”

Logan leaned forward, resting a hand on Virgil’s as he continued. “Patton adores you. He has continued to talk about you constantly since the day you were accidentally introduced to him—”

“—and Jan-Jan won't admit it but he's excited to have someone new around." Remus purred into his ear with a sympathetic smile. “The rest of us have known each other since we were kids and it’s been a bit isolating for him.”

Virgil’s eyes dropped to his lap as he leaned into Remus, processing their words. “Roman's really okay with me being out?”

Logan smiled, subtly squeezing Virgil’s hand. “Roman said so himself, love. You have a place here.”

Virgil slowly let out the breath he'd been holding as his grip tightened on Remus' arm. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Logan prompted hesitantly.

“I'll do it.” Virgil bit his lip, nodding stiffly. “It's not like I can avoid it forever anyway.”

The energy around him shifted quickly and he could feel the excitement almost bubbling around him as his soulmates perked up. Remus' arm uncoiled from around him as Logan pulled him to his feet rather suddenly.

Not for the first time, Virgil was grateful that the selkie's grace made up for his own clumsiness. A deep blush settled onto his cheeks as Logan hooked his waist, pulling him close. The selkie’s hair brushed his forehead lightly, sending shivers down his body as Logan leaned his forehead down to his with a contented sigh.

“Thank you, dearest.” Logan whispered, pulling him toward the door. “I promise it will be well worth your time.”

---

Virgil shuffled behind Logan and Remus reluctantly as they led him through the tunnels. His shoulders curled forward, tensing as he tried to make himself smaller as the narrow tunnel began to open up. His anxiety burned in his chest as the loud sound of rushing water filled his ears. He slowed his pace at the entrance to the cave, pausing entirely as he found himself staring out in awe at the open space.

He barely even noticed as Logan and Remus continue on without him as his eye adjusted to the dim light. Hesitantly, he peeked around the corner, letting his eyes trace up the high walls of the cave disappeared into the shadows. His attention slowly drifted to the sound of rushing water as he lifted his head to see a shimmering glimmer on the far wall. A rush of mist rushed past his face as he stepped out into the open and he let out a small gasp as he realized the far wall was made up by a giant waterfall.

“Beautiful. Isn't it?”

Virgil jumped at the sudden voice behind him. His body tensed and his head spun over his shoulder, relaxing slightly at the sight of Janus' white pelt standing out against the darkness.

“Yeah,” Virgil dropped his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets as Janus came to stand next to him. “It's pretty impressive, I guess.”

A smile twitched at the corner of Janus' lips as he glanced down at Virgil. “This island holds many wondrous secrets, but this place has always been a particular favorite of mine.”

Dark circles filled the space under Virgil’s eyes as he tipped his gaze up to Janus, crossing his arms. “Yeah?”

“Certainly,” The dim light glistened on Janus' gilded scars as he nodded quietly. “This island has offered sanctuary to us all and there's no denying how fortunate we were to find such a beautiful home, but personally, I'm only truly at peace when I can breathe in the ocean air. The waterfall isn't the same, but the mist offers its own comfort.”

“You don't ever go out?” Virgil questioned, raising an eyebrow up at Janus as the selkie stared wistfully at the waterfall.

Janus shrugged, casually glancing over at Logan and Remus on the far side of the cave. “Of course we do, but it's not as often as any of us would like.”

“Right.” Virgil muttered, chewing his lip as he glanced up at the distant look in the selkie’s eyes. “I guess Logan mentioned that you guys have to be careful, but that doesn't seem fair to deny yourself that comfort when it's so close.”

Janus sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. “Our choices are what brought us here, so to complain about the consequences is redundant. For better or worse, this is our reality now.”

“You hardly seem to have had a choice in your situation.” Virgil muttered quietly, deep in thought.

“Perhaps not originally,” Janus smirked softly at Virgil’s acknowledgement. “but at this point, it's my choice to follow Roman and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Virgil felt his anxiety rise in his chest at the mention of Roman’s name, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. He tapped his fingertips on his arm as he looked down at the ground, eyeing Janus curiously. “What choices brought the others here?”

Janus’ knowing smirk widened. “Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but I do believe either of your lovers would be more equipped to answer that question than myself.”

“I know. I just—” Virgil stalled as Janus turned to stare at him. He shifted his gaze away, rolling his eyes as Janus chuckled at him. “Just, never mind.”

“Don’t worry, Virgil. I understand.” Janus smiled gently at him. “It's new and you’re still learning to trust them.”

Virgil stopped chewing his lip, looking up at Logan and Remus on the far side of the cave. They were laughing as they sat next each other worked together to light the kindling for the fire. “I'm not worried about them, Janus. I'm worried about what they’ll think of me.”

“Trust me when I say there's nothing you can do to that will scare them away.” Janus reassured him with a knowing smile, running his fingers down the pelt on his shoulders “Even if they weren’t your soulmates, both of them are too insufferably optimistic about people to think ill of you.”

Virgil smirked rolling back on his ankles. “Hopefully, with that advantage I'll be able to live up to their expectations for me.”

Janus smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “You have nothing to worry about, Virgil. Truly, they adore you already."

“Thanks.” Virgil smiled faintly casting a grateful glance up at Janus. “I appreciate the—”

“Vee!”

Virgil let out a quiet grunt as a small force curled around the back of his knees, nearly knocking him forward onto the ground. He looked down to see Patton’s wet, brown hair as he curled around Virgil’s legs.

“Hey.” Virgil grinned softly as he knelt down to ruffle the kid's wet hair as he giggled. “Long time, no see, kiddo.”

“Finally, the mystery is solved.”

Virgil jumped instinctively at the sound of Roman’s voice behind him. He barely had a moment to react before a hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up to see Janus smiling down at him reassuringly before turning to move back to Roman.

“And what mystery is that, my dear?” Janus cooed as he stepped toward Roman, reaching out to intertwine his fingers around his soulmate’s. An adoring smile spread across his face as he ran his fingers through Roman’s damp, dark hair.

“Our littlest selkie has started referring to his elders as kiddo, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where he'd even learned the word,” Roman’s head tipped up to Virgil with a gentle smile. “but it would seem that I've found it's source.

“I'm sorry.” Virgil replied, running his fingers through his hair as he dropped his gaze.

“No need to apologize, Virgil.” Roman replied immediately, holding a hand out in reassurance as Virgil slowly tipped his head back up to him. “I actually find it quite endearing.”

“Oh.” Virgil blinked. He couldn’t help but be shocked at the gentleness in Roman’s voice as he spoke to him. “Right.”

“Vee—” Patton whined impatiently as he leaned his hands into Virgil to get his attention. “—I went swimming today.”

“Did you now?” Virgil felt his confusion melt away as the kid's eyes sparkled up at him.

“I did!” Patton grinned as he rolled forward on his feet. “I went all the way down to the bottom and I wasn’t even scared.”

“That's amazing, kid.” Virgil chuckled as Patton leaned into shoulder. “You’re a lot braver than me.”

Patton beamed at the praise, absently grabbing a handful of Virgil’s shirt as he rolled forward on his feet in excitement. “I brought something for you.”

“For me?” Virgil blinked in surprise. His eyed flitted up to Roman and Janus, chewing his lip at their warm smiles as he turned back to Patton. The kid was almost bouncing as he lifted his hands up and unfolded them for Virgil.

“Yeah, here.” Patton whispered as he held out a dark, black rock. The outside was rough and unremarkable, but as the kid turned over the rock, Virgil’s jaw dropped. The far side of the rock was broken, and Virgil could see glittering purple crystals inside.

“Pat, wow." Virgil whispered as Patton dropped the crystal in his hand. He stared blankly down at the crystal as he ran his fingers over its smooth surface. Warmth spread across his chest as turned up at Patton with a soft smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it for yourself?”

“It's ‘kay.” Patton murmured as he leaned his head into Virgil’s shoulder, curling his arms around Virgil’s bicep. “You need it for your new room. Janus says the purple ones keep the bad dreams away.”

“My new room?” Virgil echoed in disbelief, feeling his shoulders slump as Patton continued to ramble excitedly.

“I didn't want you to be scared, if you have to turn your lamp off.” Patton finished with a tired smile as Virgil wrapped an arm around his waist.

“That was meant to be a surprise,” Roman chuckled softly above him. “but I suppose the kid's tired rambling is as good a way to find out as any other.”

Virgil stood up, gently lift Patton into his arms with him. He looked up at Roman as Patton leaned his head into his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Logan’s room has been functional up until this point but since you’re going to stay, you need to have a space that’s all your own.” Roman smiled as he leaned back into Janus’ chest. “We've got temporary furnishings to get you by for now, but of course eventually we’ll get you something more to your taste.”

“You would do that for me?” Virgil whispered, feeling his voice quiver with emotion.

“Of course, Virgil.” Roman’s expression softened as Patton leaned on Virgil’s chest. “This is your home now. You need a space that belongs only to you.”

“Maybe, but—” Virgil took a small breath as Roman smiled at him reassuringly. “—but, like, personalizing it seems expensive. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“To be honest, Logan’s negotiation techniques are effective and the resources we tend to trade are bountiful.” Roman let out a soft snort, looking over at Janus as he rolled his eye. “Not all of us have Logan’s high taste, but his room is proof that he can get his hands on most anything for you.”

“Thank you.” Virgil whispered, unable to think of anything else to say as an unexpected warmth flooded his body.

“There’s no need to thank me or anyone else. The fact that we were going to make you comfortable was a given when you decided to stay.” Roman smiled patiently as Virgil ducked his head to hide the flush on his cheek as gratitude flooded his chest. “Now, let's get this kid some food before he passes out on you.”

“S-sure. No problem.” Virgil nodded as Roman reached down n to pull Patton off where he'd laid his head on Virgil’s shoulder. The selkie edged past Virgil, followed shortly by Janus. Virgil rose to his feet and hesitantly turned to follow Roman and Janus as they moved to join Logan and Remus around the roaring fire his soulmates had managed to conjure up. Virgil took his time following. He reached his wrist to his eyes, wiping the tears from his eyes before following behind the selkies.

---

Everything seemed to blur around Virgil as he stepped out to join the family of selkies. He could feel tingling on his skin as the sounds of laughter filled the air and the light of the fire flickered on the walls of the cave. The smell of smoke was dampened as it vented out through the gaps of the edge of the waterfall.

Despite Virgil’s best effort, he could feel his energy draining as the selkies moved around him as they prepared the meal. Time seemed to pass slowly as they moved about their routine around him. He knew he should engage but as time passed their words slowly started to melt into the background of his mind. His skin prickled as he stepped back, watching as Logan tossed a bundle of herbs into the pot in which he was cooking as he conversed quietly with Janus.

A sad smile spread across his face as he gravitated towards the shadows, watching the family smile fondly as Patton climbed up to help Logan as he attempted to prepare some sort vegetable that Virgil didn’t recognize. The simple moments held a certain kind of beauty, but as he stood alone, he couldn’t banish the feeling of being disconnected from everyone else at bay. He leaned into the cave wall, so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

“Why ya lurkin'?”

Virgil instantly relaxed at Remus' voice in his ear. He crossed his arms, subtly leaning back into Remus' chest. “I'm not lurking.”

“You’re creeping in the shadows, pretty boy.” Remus cooed quietly into Virgil’s ear. “That's lurkin' by definition.”

Virgil tensed, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he dropped his eyes to the ground. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey—Relax, man. Creep to your heart's content.” Remus pulled him deeper into the shadows as he rested his head in the nook of Virgil’s shoulder. “It's a little overwhelming. Isn’t it?”

Virgil sighed as Remus’ deep voice resonated through his chest as the warmth of his arms soothed him. “It shouldn’t be. Everyone’s been more than nice about letting me stay here.”

“Ain’t nobody letting you do nothing, babe.” Remus chuckled, pulling Virgil down so he was almost curled in Remus' lap as they rested back among the rocks. “Everyone’s excited to have you here.”

“I—” Virgil tensed as Patton squealed in excitement from across the cave. His attention flitted about the room as the feeling of being detached returned to his body as he watched the happy smiles of the family of selkies. Remus' hand curled into his own as his anxiety peaked. He paused, looking up into Remus’ emerald eyes long enough to bring him back to his body enough and relax into Remus’ warmth. “—Thank you, Re.”

“You don't have to thank me for nothing.” Remus purred as Virgil relaxed back into him. “Shit sucks when you feel out of place, especially when you’re supposed to feel like you’re at home.”

“Fucking stupid is what it is." Virgil muttered as curled into Remus' shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from the man holding him. Virgil smirked up at Remus and his expression softened at the melancholy in the man’s expression as he smiled down at Virgil. “You know what it feels like then?”

“I know.” Remus purred at the surprise in Virgil’s voice. With a dramatic flourish, his hand came to rest on Virgil’s leg as he played up his apparent distress. “It’s difficult to imagine that anyone could resist my dazzling charm, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

Virgil snorted, blushing as Remus’ crooked grin beamed down at him. He chuckled as he shyly dropped his gaze, leaning into Remus' shoulder. “Sounds like their loss.”

Softness spread across Remus’ dramatics melted into a fond smile and firelight flickered in his eyes as he stared down at Virgil. “You surprise me, Virge. I thought for sure you’d take longer than Lolo to warm up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Poor bastard actually cried when we found out were soulmates.” Remus chuckled as Virgil’s eyes darted to Logan and back to Remus.

“What?” Virgil's grip tightened on Remus' hand and he started to sit up.

Remus shrugged, smiling down at Virgil as he gently eased him back. “In his defense, we were both only a little older than Patton when we found out, so we were both pretty freaked.”

“You were that young?” Virgil relaxed slightly as Remus' arm curled around the back of his neck.

“Our pods traveled the same waters. We ended up at the same beaches throughout the year.” Remus chuckled. “I actually thought he was a bit of a stick in the mud before I got to know him. Couldn’t take a joke to save his life.”

“Really?” Virgil stared over at Logan across the room, unable to imagine a Logan who was anything less than the sultry man whose unearthly amount of confidence was constantly testing his wit's end.

“Thought I was going to end up giving up my entire life for some prude.” Remus chuckled. “Never In my life would I have imagined that he'd be willing to leave his own pod, let alone that he'd be able to outmatch me on my own bullshit better even than Roman.”

Virgil blinked, turning back to Remus in confusion. “He left his pod?”

“Soulmates are kind of a big deal, especially among selkies. Don’t matter how young you are. Once you’re matched, you’re expected to stay with each other.” Remus sighed. “Most pairs come from the same pods, but since we came from different pods one of us had to give up the life we knew.”

“Seems pretty harsh.” Virgil muttered. “You were just kids. How can they ask that of you?”

“At the time, I thought it was total sea horse shit,” Remus growled as he reluctantly shrugged it off. “but I was glad to have had him around when I did. My own pod didn’t like me much but thanks to him, I always had someone outside of Roman.

Virgil frowned, resting a hand on Remus’ waist as he drew quieter. “I thought you said he was upset.”

“Not upset, just scared.” Remus whispered with a smile. “As if all the overwhelming feelings weren't enough, Lolo was made even more nervous by the fact that I had a bit of a reputation.”

“I'm sure you did—”

“Not like I do now, Virge.” Remus cut him off abruptly, looking ashamed. “It wasn’t good.”

Virgil paused, surprised by Remus interruption.

“I was an angry kid. Ro was constantly bailing me out of brawls with my podmates.” Remus sighed, glancing over at Roman. “Hell, I can't even imagine if I didn’t have him in my corner. I give my brother a lot of shit, but he's always had my back when I needed him.”

“Why were you mad?”

“Felt out of place and lonely. People were drawn to Roman and repulsed by me.” Remus whispered. “I don’t care what anyone says. If a kid gets the idea in their that they’re not wanted, that shit messes ‘em up for life.”

“I know the feeling.” Virgil replied, quietly fidgeting with his sleeve.

“Gotta say though, my whole attitude changed when Lolo came around.” Remus whispered as a rosy blush spread across his face and he grinned down at Virgil. “God, he's so pretty. You know?”

Virgil smiled as he curled into Remus warmth watching his eyes light up as he talked about Logan.

“I was so scared he wouldn’t even like me. Might be the only time in my life I tried to dull myself down to impress someone.” Remus purred. “I was ready for another rejection but turns he was into all the same weird shit I was.”

“It's too soon for you to be dragging me into all your guys' kinky shit, Re.” Virgil teased, holding Remus'

“Fuck off.” Remus giggled. “We were kids, you freak.”

Virgil's breath caught in his throat as Remus curled his face into his neck. He squirmed, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck in an attempt to stop him from tickling his neck with his mustache.

Remus let out a long breath Virgil curled across his lap, hands wrapped around his neck. “I thought I was alone in the world and then I suddenly had a friend who was willing to swim to the bottom of the harbor to dig up the best worms or see how far we could swim under the ice. It was like goddamn magic.”

Virgil smiled, reaching a hand up to run his hand through Remus’ dark curls. “That's really sweet, Re.”

“It was easily the best thing to happen in my life until I met you.” Remus purred, grin widening as heat rushed to Virgil’s cheeks. ““I can tell this is going to be just as life-changing.”

“I didn’t know you were such a sap, Re.” Virgil dipped his head into Remus' chest, hoping the shadows might hide the bright red flush spreading across his face.

“Can't help it.” Remus smirked. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“Shut up.”

Remus hummed contentedly as Virgil retreated deeper into his chest. He smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Virgil’s temple. “How are you feeling now, stormcloud?”

“Better.” Virgil admitted quietly, realizing he'd lost his nervousness as he listened to Remus.

“Good.” Remus smiled. “You’re going to find your place here, but while you’re figuring it out, you can always fall back on me when everything gets a little too overwhelming.”

“The same goes for myself, Virgil.”

Virgil blinked. He looked up to see Logan lingering next to them, his back to the firelight as he stared down at them.

“If ever you are feeling uncertain or overwhelmed, I hope you know you can seek refuge with myself or Remus.” Logan smiled as he slipped down next to them. “While I hope you do continue to join our family gatherings, there is no pressure to do so all at once. Stepping back when you need to is important for your own well-being and that is always our first priority.”

“Thank you. Both of you.” Virgil whispered, feeling warmth rise in his chest as his soulmates stared down at him with gentleness in his eyes. “Both of you. I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“Then say nothing, love.” Logan whispered with a soft smile as he ran a hand through Virgil’s hair. “Your feelings are shared by us all.”

Virgil nodded quietly, feeling the warmth spread from his chest to the rest his body as Logan rose to his feet and offered him a hand up.

“Now, I do hope you are hungry, because dinner is ready and everyone would like to see more of you.” Logan whispered, intertwining his fingers with Virgil’s. “if you are ready for that, of course.”

“I am.” Virgil’s heart jumped in in chest as his soulmates closed in on his sides. He'd never felt so relaxed they led him back to the campfire.

Roman was the first to look up as they approached. A gentle smile spread across his face as he looked up from the pot. “Sit anywhere you like, Virgil. I'll bring a dish to you.”

“Thank y—”

“No! Sit next to me!”

Virgil smiled as Patton jumped up to clear the spot next to him.

“Patton—There's no need to be so demanding.” Janus chided him softly.

Patton stopped, his small body leaned on the rocks for a moment as he considered Janus' words. After a brief moment, he quickly turned back to Virgil with a wide smile. “Pretty please will you sit with me?”

Virgil smiled at the kid’s enthusiasm, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he dropped down next to the kid. “Well, how can I say no to such a polite request?”

He could see Janus roll his eyes as the kid squealed and scooted over to him. His eyes lingered for a moment as Patton curled his fingers around Virgil’s hand.

“Have you picked a room yet, Vee?” Patton asked, leaning into his shoulder.

Virgil chuckled, as the kid’s eyes sparkled up at him. “Not yet, Pat. I haven’t had a chance to look around yet.”

“I think you should have the room next to mine.” Patton suggested proudly.

“That is certainly an option if you would never like to sleep again, Virgil.” Janus turned his gaze from the empty air around them back to Virgil with a smirk.

Virgil chuckled as Janus’ sarcasm didn’t seem to register in Patton’s mind as he looked eagerly up at Virgil. “I'm not sure, kiddo. I might have to see a few places first.”

“I can show you tomorrow.” Patton shouted gleefully. “I know all the best ones.”

“Sounds great, Pat.” Virgil smiled quietly. “but I don't think it's up to me if we can do that.”

“That's perfectly fine if that's what you want to do, Virgil.”

Virgil turned up his head, surprised to see Roman above him, hand extended as he offered Virgil a bowl. He hesitantly let go of Patton’s hand to take the bowl of soup from Roman, glancing cautiously at the faces around him.

“Of course, I do think that someone should accompany you both since you are unfamiliar with the tunnels, Virgil,” Roman smiled at his blank expression as he continued. “but I see no reason why that cannot be arranged.”

“I would be more than happy to accompany Virgil and Patton tomorrow.” Logan offered, dropping down next to him as Roman offered him a bowl. “I believe it would be wise anyway to have the input if someone whose familiar with each to point out potential cons as you choose your new living space.”

“Very well, but Patton will be your responsibility, Lo.” Roman continued, absently handing out bowls of food as he went. “It's not fair to place that expectation on Virgil until he’s settled in a bit more, especially when Patton has a habit of wandering off on his own."

“Of course. I do not mind the resp—"

“Really?” Virgil finally sputtered out. “You’re actually going to let me take the kid out tomorrow?”

Roman paused as Virgil’s timid voice broke his concentration and he turned back to face him. Guilt seemed to flash across his face as Virgil stared up at him in disbelief. “Of course, Virgil. Your restrictions have been lifted. We discussed this already.”

“I know—” Virgil whispered quietly, heat rising in his face as all the eyes in the room turned to him. “I guess I assumed the kid was an exception.”

Roman’s eyes softened as Virgil ducked his head down, running a hand through his hair. “No exceptions, Virgil. You’re part of our family now.”

Virgil’s mouth hung agape as he glanced around the warm expressions of the faces around him. He blinked, absently wrapping an arm around Patton as the kid leaned into his side.

“There are no more tests, love.” Logan whispered, curling an arm around his waist from beside him as he placed a gentle kiss on Virgil’s temple. “You can breathe now.”

Virgil nodded at Logan in apparent shock. He swallowed glancing around at the others as they nodded their own affirmations and turned back to their own conversations, leaving him to ponder the new information. A warmth welled in his chest as he settled in to the subtle contact of Logan and Patton on each side of him and slowly, a smile spread across his face as he brought a spoonful of the savory soup to his lips, listening to the family of selkies as their excited voices filled the air around him.

Somehow the sound of their voices around him wasn't so overwhelming anymore. The feelings of anxiety he'd had seemed to fade to the back of his mind as the hours the night began to pass him by, filled by the sounds of stories of his new family. A warm feeling of gratitude filled his chest that Logan had insisted on him coming out. He relaxed into Logan's shoulder, feeling the warmth of the warmth of the fire as he learned more about the wonderful people who had welcomed him into their home and he was happy.

---

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

The Stowaway's Heart

@alias290 @lonelyanxiousbean @kieraelieson @evoodo123 @dndnerd1609 @lovesupernova25 @minninugget @trainwreckwithlimbs @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @the-spiral-sun @rachetssearch @twilight--trix @evelyn-nova @sluggerbot-2-5 @arsenicdragon @so-what-if-im-crazy@slutty-cinnamon-roll @inferiorfilth @bluerosesbleedred @maybedefinitely404 @deathdarknessdevils @itawalrus @judyismydog @im-actually-ok @romano-hottopic @monkeythefander @hope340 @dwbh888

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders side fic #ts virgil #ts Logan #ts remus #ts logan #intrulogical #dukexiety #analogical #intruanalogical #roceit #The Stowaway's Heart #villain writes

113 notes · View notes

elvendara · 3 years ago

Text

Sugar and Spice day 4

July 15th

Gamer/Troll

Yoosung:

Why is your brother such an ass? I thought you were bad but he takes the cake! And eats it too! Tell him to STOP! It’s not FUNNY!

Saeyoung:

I don’t know what to tell you. He doesn’t listen to me, you know that. He even barked at MC when she tried to talk to him. I mean, it’s like he has a vendetta against you. I know what I did, but what did you do to him?

Yoosung:

NOTHING! I’ve been super nice every time I see him, and he’s basically just ignored me or hurled insults at me, and now, he’s getting his jollies by trolling me on LOLOL! Why did you tell him about it?

Saeyoung:

He already knew. Don’t forget he had us all under surveillance for Mint Eye. Look, maybe stop giving him such a big reaction. It’s what he wants. Just, ignore him.

Yoosung:

That’s easy for you to say! He’s ruining my reputation!

Saeyoung:

OK, I’ll try to talk to him again, but I can’t make any promises, you might just have to deal with this yourself. Face to face, you know, man to man.

Yoosung:

Yeah, sure. So he can beat me up? No thank you.

Saeyoung:

Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?

Yoosung:

Whatever! I have to do my dailies, hopefully Saeran isn’t around! Ugh!

Saeyoung sighed and shook his head. Saeran had really turned into a bully online. At least towards Yoosung. He found it funny to mess with the blond himself, but Saeran had taken it too far. With an exhausted sigh he walked towards Saeran’s room and knocked on the door.

“What?” came Saeran’s answer. He turned the doorknob and opened the door. “Oh, it’s you.” Saeran said and returned to face his laptop on the desk.

“Yeah, ahh, can we talk?” he asked walking in and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“About what?” he didn’t even turn around to look at his brother.

“Saeran.” Saeyoung said exasperated.

Saeran’s shoulders sagged, and he finally faced his brother, rotating in his computer chair.

“You have to stop this thing with Yoosung. He’s really angry.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” Saeran rolled his eyes.

“It’s gone too far, why are you doing it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obviously not.” Saeyoung countered.

“I like him.”

Saeyoung was stunned. He blinked his eyes in disbelief. “You…like him? That’s how you show you like someone?”

“It’s all I know.” Saeran shrugged.

“Oh my god! All this time, you’ve been trying to show Yoosung that you like him?”

“Yes.”

Saeyoung face palmed and started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Saeran asked irritated.

“You’re an idiot you know that? But then, so am I.” Saeyoung got a hold of himself and tried to be serious. “Look, why don’t you just try asking him out instead of trolling him on the internet?”

It was Saeran’s turn to be stunned. “Just…ask?”

“Well yeah, what’s the worst that can happen? He says no?”

“That’s pretty bad yes. I have to find out if he likes me back first before asking him out like that.”

“Well, you’re going about it all wrong.”

“Is that how you got together with MC? You just asked her out?”

“Uh, no, actually, she kind of didn’t give me a choice.”

“Hmnm, maybe I should do that instead.”

“No no, it worked for MC and me, but I don’t think it will work with Yoosung.”

“OK, well, what other advice do you have?” Saeran sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, ready to listen. It gave Saeyoung pause, he’d never seen his brother like this. He must really be into Yoosung if he was willing to listen to him.

“I think you should be honest. Tell him how you feel. How about we invite him over this weekend, and you can talk to him then.”

“I don’t know, that seems, uh, I don’t know.”

“At least you can use the time to start being nicer to him.”

“Nice?”

“Yes, nice! Would you rather have him angry with you or happy?”

“Happy of course, but if he’s angry, at least he’s talking to me.”

“You’ll never get to the kissing phase if you keep going like that.”

“K…kissing???” Saeran turned bright red, almost the same shade as his hair.

Saeyoung stood and ruffled his brother’s hair. “Just try it.” He said and walked out.

Yoosung liked hanging out with his best friend Saeyoung and his new wife MC. He even liked Saeran, but something had changed and Saeran had turned on him. He didn’t understand. Sure he wasn’t always nice, but he attributed that to the way he had spent the first 23 years of his life. Yoosung couldn’t imagine being nice after suffering for his entire life at the hands of others. But there had been something behind those pained green eyes that pulled on Yoosung’s heart. So he suffered the barbs thrown at him, knowing they were just a defense mechanism.

However, Saeran suddenly went from defensive to attacking at every opportunity he could. He wasn’t even safe when he was away from him physically. He’d tried to tell himself this was yet another reactionary defense mechanism, but the man had crossed the line! He’d started trolling him on LOLOL and made the game unbearable. It wasn’t just that either, he’d gotten some of his own guild members to pick on him too! It was so irritating!

But here he was, trying to be civil towards Saeran when all he wanted was to smash his face in. Even that thought was irritating. This wasn’t him. He didn’t wish to do harm to people. The only reason he’d agreed to even come was because Saeyoung had begged, and he felt guilty for punishing the red head because of his brother. He really did want to see them. He kept a wary eye out for Saeran, who had yet to make an appearance, though Yoosung knew he was there, probably in his room.

“Thanks for bringing desert Yoosung, you didn’t have to, but it looks delicious.” MC stated as she unwrapped the cheesecake. Yoosung smiled, knowing full well they expected him to bring dessert. He’d spent hours making it from scratch.

“You’re welcome. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh no, why don’t you go outside and hang out with Saeyoung. I know he’s missed you.”

“OK.” Yoosung headed to the backyard where he could smell the grilling already underway. Saeyoung was a pretty good griller, especially when it came to steaks, although in the kitchen he was as much of a disaster as his brother. The thought of Saeran made him growl.

Saeyoung heard and chuckled. “What’s with the scowl?” he asked as he hugged his friend.

“Sorry, just thinking of something unpleasant.”

“Let me guess, Saeran?” he snickered.

“Sure laugh it up, but I swear, I’m this close to punching him.” He held his thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart.

“Don’t worry OK? He promised he would be on his best behavior.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Yoosung answered.

“Believe what?” Saeran asked as he walked out towards them.

Yoosung didn’t answer, pursing his lips and crossing his arms, turning his back to the newly red headed man.

With a sigh Saeran almost went back into the house but an encouraging look from Saeyoung held him to the spot. Well, might as well rip that band aid off.

“Uh, Yoosung, can I talk to you?”

Yoosung’s breath caught in his throat, he’d never heard that tone from Saeran. He was caught off guard and found it hard to hang onto his anger, curiosity winning. He nodded and followed Saeran as he walked onto the grass from the porch and around the swimming pool.

Finally he stopped and turned, eyes cast downwards.

“I’m sorry.” He said, barely audible.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” Saeran stated as he met Yoosung’s amethyst gaze.

There was a moment of silence as Yoosung took that in.

“Oh, well, OK then. But, why? Why were you so mean to me?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. Once the anger was gone, all that was left was hurt. What Saeran had done had hurt him.

“I…it’s…stupid…” Saeran’s shoulders sagged, and he couldn’t look at Yoosung’s crushed face anymore.

“Tell me.” Yoosung said kindly, reaching out to the man and squeezing his upper arm. The touch made Saeran shiver and lose his voice. He stared at the younger man, those empathetic eyes, and kind heart so readily able to accept his apology.

“I…really like you and I didn’t know how to tell you so in order to get you to pay attention to me, to interact with me I started being mean because any reaction is a good one if you keep doing it right? At least that’s how I thought. I mean, I don’t know how to make friends let alone let someone know I care about them. Hell, I still can’t even tell Saeyoung how I really feel about him. I didn’t know…”

“Stop!” Yoosung said, placing his hand over Saeran’s mouth. Saeran was crushed, thinking that Yoosung didn’t want to hear about his affection, but there was a smile on the blond’s face and a twinkle in his eyes. “I get it. Really I do. So, just tell me. How do you feel about me?”

“I like you.” Saeran said after Yoosung had released his lips, though he missed the soft touch. “I like being around you. When you’re near I want to reach out and hold your hand. I imagine what it would be like to hold you in my arms and kiss you. You’re so kind and sweet, to everyone. At first, I thought it was an act, you know, like…her…but you’re nothing like her. Your empathy for others is genuine. I just…want to be in your orbit. So, I’d like to ask you out on a date.”

“I’d like that.” Yoosung said.

“Really?” Saeran was surprised but something inside of him bloomed and grew. Something light and joyful. Something he’d never felt before, nor thought he would ever be able to feel. Hope.

#my posts #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #mysme #mystic messenger #Sugar and Spice #Day 4 #July 15th #Gamer/Troll #Silly Saeran

27 notes · View notes