#anon what on earth is that tongue emoji?
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violinist-rachel · 3 months ago
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Do you like eurm.. pinic... Picnic and then after picnic frolick in the fields ?? 👅
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"I... suppose so...?" "Sorry, but I'm about to be late for a meeting. If you'll excuse me..."
Rachel politely passes by.
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iguessilovebakugou · 4 years ago
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Stranger ||  Bakugou x Reader ||  { Anon Request }  ||  Stalking
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TW:  Cursing ||  Stalking || Threats of violence  ||  Implied desire for Non-Con (not from Bakugou tho) Word Count:  5.5K
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It started after the Sport Festival.  
A DM that had been sent to your private social media account - a friend from your old school named Honoka. You hadn’t spoken to her since starting UA - and the moment you saw the notification, you felt guilty that this was how she had to reach out to you.  She had been so proud of you when you got accepted, she almost started crying, hugging you tightly and telling you as much.  She asked you to keep in contact in High School.  You had promised her you would.
You had been so busy, it was hard keeping promises.
Honoka: Hey!  I saw you on the TV - you were amazing!  I can’t believe they wouldn’t let you pass onto the finals.  Good thing though - you would have gone against that asshole.
Honoka:  Not that you couldn’t have handled it!
It should have tipped you off that one of the quieter kids of school would have used such language, but it didn’t.  It had been a few months since starting high school and people have changed faster.  You didn’t think much about it aside from replying before your train pulled into the station.  You might miss your stop and be late to school.  
You were always punctual and refused to have something as stupid as that go against your record.  
You waited until you were off the train, standing on the steps before sending a quick message. 
Thanks!  It was really terrifying.  But I lost fair and square.  Besides, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it to the finals.  So I guess it’s okay. :) 
You decided not to humor her comment about Bakugou.  While it drew a hot, angry tie around your neck, part of you understood.  Honoka wasn’t alone in thinking he was...less than pleasant.  It had been a point of contention, something that bothered you both that day and since.  People were just wrong about him.  She didn’t know him like Class 1-A did.  A few short clips from some televised sports festival didn’t do him nearly the justice he was deserved.
You didn’t have enough time to put your phone back in your jacket pocket when it buzzed again. 
Honoka: Still.
Honoka: You were so strong.  We all think they should have made an exception for you.
Honoka: We should meet up sometime.  Gtg! Text me after school to set up a time!
You wanted to question it but you didn’t.  
You really should have questioned it.  
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King Explosion Murder was a perfectly good name.
Miss Midnight just doesn’t understand art.
The conversation had been going on for a hour.  It was the longest that you and Bakugou had texted.  You had moved from a group text to your own private thread.  He didn’t text you like normal boys did - no pictures, no emojis, no stupid memes he had found.  It was...conversation, one that hadn’t been as hard to keep going as you thought.  you tried to distract yourself with school work while he replied, but found it hard not to keep your attention on your screen as the text bubble flashed.  
Bakugou:  It was better than “Deku”.
Well Deku was less violent
Bakugou:  AND IT WAS STILL BETTER
Bakugou:  THAN FUCKING DEKU’S
Honoka: You still up?
You stopped.  Honoka?  Why on earth was she texting you...oh shit.  You groaned, rubbing your eyes and kicking yourself for forgetting to text her back like she had asked.  You had been so wrapped up texting Bakugou since getting home that it just completely slipped your mind.  Though, to be fair, most things slipped your mind around him.
You opened your chat with her, trying to figure out how to apologize without seeming like too much of an asshole.
Hey, yeah, sorry.
I started talking to one of my classmates and totally forgot.  
My bad, dood. 
Once again, she replied quickly. 
Honoka: Who were you talking to?
There was a small part of you that wanted to ask her why it was her business, but you bit your tongue.  She probably didn’t mean anything by it and some residual bitterness from her comment this morning was probably lingering.  You took a deep breath. 
Bakugou.  
We workshopped hero names today.  His got shot down by our teacher.  
It was so sad. 🤣🤣🤣
Honoka:  Why are you talking to him?
It wasn’t a question, not really.  It was a statement.  Like you talking to Bakugou was taboo, you could practically hear her grasping her pearls.  You shouldn’t have had to explain to her why you were talking anyone, let alone him, and it bothered you that she felt she was owed that right. That she even dare ask the question. Your brow furrowed as you sat up in bed.  
What do you mean?
Honoka:  Why are you talking to him?  He seems like an dick
Honoka:  And isn’t good for you. 
Honoka:  You need to focus on being the best hero you can be.
Honoka:  He seems like he would only drag you down. 
Rage filled your stomach.  Your hands were shaking as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.  She had never acted this way before...right?  She had always been so nice and meek and unassuming and... 
You were confused, finding yourself chewing on your lip as you tried to make sense of what the hell you were seeing.
He’s my friend.  I really like him.
Look, he’s not as mean as he appears on TV.  He’s actually a really good guy.  And he’s really smart and he’s going to be a better hero than even me some day.
So I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him like that.
The chat bubble popped up.  Then disappeared.  Then popped up.  And disappeared again.
It’s funny - you had never felt so threatened by someone not answering.  But as the bubble flashed for a final time, something told you that you had fucked up. 
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Honoka was always quiet, yes, but she was also amazingly sweet.  She cried when you were little kids at the ending scene in All Dog’s Go to Heaven, always scrounged up change to donate to someone on the street looking for food, and volunteered every weekend to help with the younger students struggling in studies.  She hadn’t been born with a mean bone in her body.  
But by the end of the week, you were certain the person messaging you wasn’t the same Honoka you knew.  She had changed - and not for the better.  Not in the slightest.  She was growing more insistent that you talk to her - every night.  And if you didn’t?  
The calls were incessant.  One after the other until you finally had to shut your ringer off.  And the voicemails - she never spoke.  Just let it sit for a moment before hanging up.  And you were grateful for it - you didn’t want to talk to her.  Every chance she got, she showered you with praise and adoration while slinging hate at all your friends in 1-A.  But no one got it like Bakugou did.
Honoka:  Stop talking to him.
It’s not any of your damn business who I’m talking to.
Honoka:  If you don’t stop talking to him, I’ll tell him what a whore you were in Middle School.
The water of your bath was scalding, but that didn’t stop you from shaking.  Why was she doing this to you?  Why was she so adamant about making your life miserable?  This wasn’t Honoka - not even in the slightest.  
I’m blocking you.  Leave me alone.
Don’t talk to me anymore.
No matter what, he was pure evil to Honoka.  He was disgusting, arrogant, rude, a monster, a villain hiding in sheep's clothing and would do nothing but drag you down.  He would hurt you, she said.  
Honoka:  Go ahead.  I’ll just make other accounts.
She was as good as her word.  At least that hadn’t changed.
Your classmates were starting to take notice.  After the first few accounts were blocked, she started using a calling app to randomly call you - only to hang up the moment you answered.  Sometimes it was once a night, supplemented with texts about what a no good, lying whore you were.  About how you were just some slut who’s opening you legs for the first guy who gave you any attention. 
Honoka:  Fucking skank.
Honoka:  You’re so fucking worthless.  
Honoka:  You fucking him?  Is that it?  Is that why you want to defend him so bad?
Honoka:  He’s probably fucking every other girl in your class.
Other times, the calls were every hour on the hour.  It had gotten so bad, that you started sleeping in later and later.
You raced through the empty halls, trying to will time to back up.  You had slept in, missing your first train.  When you got on the second one, you fell back asleep until the stop after yours.  The only thing you could do was get off and just run to school as fast as you could.  Class had started 20 minutes ago.  This had never happened before - in your whole life.  You were always meticulous about getting to class early.
You were a good student.  A good person.  You were.  
“Well, look who decided to join us.”  Mr. Aizawa didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice.  It made it all the more terrible
You wanted to cry.  You felt the eyes of everyone in your class fall on you.  It made your skin squirm, your stomach flip.  You wanted to turn around and just...run home.  To crawl into your bed and... 
You bowed low, your head almost hitting the floor.  “I’m so sorry I’m late, sir!  It won’t happen again!”
“Be sure that it doesn’t.”  His glare hardened.  “We’ll talk after class about your punishment.”
Punishment.  Shit.  You couldn’t speak, resigning to solemnly nodding as you making the walk of shame to your seat, collapsing down.  You had to take a minute, to steady your breath.  To try and collect yourself.  At least at school, you had an excuse not to answer her texts.  To ignore her and pretend like she wasn’t out there being fucking crazy.  School was safe.  School was free from it all.
Almost by habit, you turned and looked over at Bakugou.  A small part of you was praying that he was looking at you.  That his glare would ground you in a way only it knew how.  But when your eyes met...the only thing you felt was misery.  
You fucking him?  Is that it?  
Your heart raced, panic flooded your nerves, and all you wanted to do was run.  Get away from everyone and just...just go to sleep.  You just wanted to sleep.  But Honoka wasn’t allowing that.  You couldn’t stop thinking about half of the things she said while the other half had been resting heavily in your stomach, making you sick.  She was stealing everything from you.
You’re a fucking slut opening her legs for the first guy who gives you attention.  And of course it had to be that fucking dog.
No...no you couldn’t look at him for too long, afraid that he would know.  Terrorized as you were, you couldn’t run the risk of him finding out.  Because...what if she messaged him first?  What if she told him all of her lies and...what if he believed her?
No.  No, that couldn’t happen.
You pulled away from his stare, folding in on yourself.  Just get out your books.  Focus on class and get out your books.  Your phone dinged and your blood ran cold.  You dreaded even looking at it, but as you tugged out your notebook,  the piece of plastic fell, resting against the back of your bag.  It was as if some higher power was damning you to be always aware of the vitriol Honoka was spewing in your direction.  The lock screen shone bright: 21 missed texts, 44 missed calls.  But the most recent message sent horror down your spine.
Honoka:  Naughty girl, sleeping in late for school.  
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You slipped out of the lunch room and made your way down the hall.  You were going to put an end to this - once and for all.  You didn’t know what game Honoka was playing at, but whatever it was, you were fucking done.  She was starting to seep into every facet of your life and it was ending now.  Right then, in that hallway.  
When you got a safe distance away from the double doors, to ensure no one could hear you when you started screaming, you searched through your contacts for her number.  When you finally found it however...
God, just looking at her name made you sick.  The fact her contact picture was of you and her, eating ice cream at a beach, grinning and giving the camera a peace sign, posing as only 12 year old girls knew how, it drove a knife into your chest, twisting it even deeper the longer you stared at it.  She was making your life a living hell.  It wasn’t right, it didn’t make any fucking sense.  Why was she doing this to you?  Did you do something to her?  Were you cruel in your last interaction?  Did you make a joke that went so poorly that she decided the only way to get back at you was to ruin your entire life?  To push you so close to the edge that...
She going out of her way to make your life a living hell and for what?  
Well, no better time like the present to find out.
Your thumb slammed down on the dial button.  Each ring was like nails on chalk board.
Her voice was even worse.
She said your name so surprised, before crying it out in joy.  “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”
Well...that...wasn’t...true?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Honoka went silent on the other end of the phone.  “Uh...are you okay?”
“You’ve been harassing me since the festival and you’re just going to act like-”
“Wait...what?”
“The thousands of texts!?  The millions of calls!?”
She didn’t answer.  You couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face.  You fucking got her.  You caught her in her bullshit lie and she didn’t have anything to say for it.  You hated to admit it, but part of you was excited to hear how she was going to explain it way.  How she was going to break down and finally you could tell her off and it was going to stop and you could get a good night’s sleep and maybe your mom could make your favorite curry and you would be able to eat it and not throw it up later and -
“I haven’t been texting you.”
Well...you couldn’t have said you were expecting that.  You stopped, staring at your feet.  “I...what?”
“I...haven’t been calling you.  Or texting you.”  She said, her voice - that ever familiar voice - filled with worry.
...of course she would be worried.  She was always so fucking nice. 
“Yes you have!!”  You shouted, gritting your teeth.
She said your name, so softly and so calmly, “No.  I haven’t.  I promise you, I haven’t.  Are you okay?  Is everything alright?”
The phone vibrated in your fingers and the screen lit up once more.  Another unknown number was calling you.  You didn’t hesitate and for the first time since this all began you answered the her-him-they-it. 
“What!?”  You screamed, pressing the phone to your ear.  You strained to hear, to try and find out who was doing this to you.  “What do you want!?  Why are you doing this to me!?  Leave me alone!!!”
...click!
The dial tone felt like a death sentence.
The hallway shrunk and expanded, growing larger and darker - like the mouth of the beast, it was going to swallow you whole.  You pressed your phone to your forehead, slumped to the floor and realized...you were crying.  No, not just crying.  You were sobbing, each one wracking your body and shaking your bones.  Shit...shit, shit, shit.  You just wanted to go back to the way things were.  You wanted it to stop, wanted whoever was doing this to leave you alone and - 
Your phone buzzed again.  Another message.  
Another sob rocked your body, but you found the strength to turn it back into view.
UNKNOWN NUMBER ::  [ MULTIMEDIA MESSAGE ]
Your fingers trembled so hard you almost dropped the phone.  You didn’t want to look at whatever it was.  Whoever was doing to you was fucking sick, was deranged and psychotic and out of their mind and...you had to do something about it.  Maybe you could tell a teacher?  But what could they do about it?  Up security?  Just for you?  No, it was entirely out of the question.  You couldn’t go to the police - since who ever this was hadn’t physically done anything to harm you.  
You were on your own.
You opened the message.
It was your house.  The sun was setting.  Then another.  This one was early in the morning.  Then another.  And another.  Another another another another another another another another another different angles, different times of day...but all focused on one spot. 
Your bedroom.  Sometimes it was empty, but other times you were in shot.  Sometimes working on homework, sometimes sitting with your cat on the window sill, other times pulling your shirt above your head, reaching behind your back for your bra and...
UNKOWN NUMBER :  Stop ignoring me.
Your phone clattered to the floor as you gripped your hair, trying to steady your breathing.  In two three fours, Out two three fours.  In two three fours, Out two three-
“Hey.”
The scream was involuntary, as was backing against the lockers so hard that you slammed your head against them.  Bakugou recoiled, staring at you, his eyes wide with surprise.  It didn’t last long, quickly overtaken by gritted teeth and snarls.  “The hell is your-”
He must have noticed the tears, the absolute panic on your face.  The silence fell over the two of you, the echo of your scream now long gone.  You wished you were.  You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the shame of what was happening.  How could you explain it. 
“You alright?”  
You pulled your legs up to you chest, hugging them tightly.  “No,” You replied.
Bakugou was never one for consolations.  So you were almost surprised when all he made his way over to where you were sitting and sat down beside you.  You flinched, only a little, but it didn’t seem to bother him none.  He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn’t say a word, his bright red eyes focused out the window across from you.  You...were grateful.  For the first time in almost two weeks, you didn’t feel entirely vulnerable.  Like everything was crumbling down around you.  And in this small moment of peace, you felt horribly exhausted.  Your mind ached, your body was sore, your eyes were so red and...and...
You rested against his shoulder and he didn’t make a move to stop you.  It was like Bakugou was putting himself between you and...whoever was stalking you.  
Stalking you.  You had a stalker.  
You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes.  “I’m sorry.”  You offered.
“For what?”  He barked.
“For crying.”
He didn’t answer for a moment, “Tch.  Yeah, well...maybe suck it the hell up.  Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.”
Not a big...you turned to look at him, eyes narrowing.  “Not a big deal...?”  
He looked at you, a bored and disgruntled expression on his face.  “Yeah.”
“It’s kind of a big fucking deal.”
“Oh yeah?  Well then what the hell is it?”
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“Whoa, it’s that kid who just won the Sports Festival!”
“Oh, wow!  He’s so much scarier in person!”
“Do you think he would be mad if I asked for an autograph?”
“Yeah! Look at his mug - he’s obviously pissed off about something!”
Bakugou had stayed late, even through your detention, to walk you home.  It was nearly dark now as you walked side by side down your street.  The sun was struggling to peak over the row of houses and a purple ink had settled over the top of the sky.  
It was taking everything in you not to apologize...again.  He didn’t need to be dragged into your mess.  But...shit, it wasn’t like you weren’t ecstatic that he offered to walk you home back in the hallway.  He was a terrifying presence, unstoppable.  As he stalked down the road towards your house, a scowl on his face as his eyes peered around every corner, it hit you that you felt safer now than you had the past few weeks.  
“Hey.���  You picked up the pace, making sure to stay close.  “Thank you again.  I just-”
“Ugh, stop thanking me!”  He glared at you.
“I’m just-”  You sighed and gripped your bag straps.  “I...I don’t see the point of you walking me home.  Not...that I don’t appreciate it, I just...won’t that make him mad?”
Bakugou scoffed.  “That’s the point, you idiot.”
Sometimes, you thought you almost understood him.  But then he blew up Rome and screamed at you to start over tomorrow morning.  You stared at him in confusion though ultimately decided you didn’t have the energy to argue.  You were just...thankful that he was here.
“This is me.”  Your house was a small thing, nestled on the corner and surrounded by a garden that was meticulously maintained by your mom while you were at school and your father was at work.  Sometimes the pictures had her in the shot, busy at work.  Your lips thinned as you stared up at the second story window,  Your white curtains lay still and your cat stared down at you, like she knew something was wrong.  Like she knew...that things were amiss. 
Well...Bakugou came all this way and the guy didn’t have the guts to show himself.  As you had figured, you had completely wasted his time.  It wasn’t like he was going to move in just to be your watchful protector.  You didn’t want to think that maybe he was just patiently waiting until you were alone but...
“Do you want to come in for something to drink.  It’s the least I could...”  
Bakugou wasn’t looking at you.  His attention was focused entirely over your shoulder.  You blinked, taken aback by the cold, dead glare on his face.  The way his eyes seemed to burn with...rage?  Unbridled anger?  Nothing seemed to do whatever it was justice.  “You’ve been following us since the train station!”  He yelled out.  “Why don’t you stop being a fucking coward and come out of hiding!!”
…someone...had been following you?
You could see the reflection of someone in his eyes.  With a shaking breath, you turned to look at who he was talking to.
You weren’t sure what you expected.  But throughout the day, you had come up with an image in your mind of what your stalker had looked like.  He would be the perfect embodiment of the horror you had suffered though, that was for certain.  A Cheshire grin, wild unkempt hair, vacant, glossy eyes, maybe a knife or something - anything to solidify himself as the monster who had been making your life miserable.  But...he wasn’t.  As you got a good look at him, you realized that he looked relatively...normal.  And for some reason, that thought alone made you sick.  
He was about your age - maybe a bit older - in a school uniform you didn’t recognize.  His hair was dark, pulled back and pushed behind his ears.  His chin was dusted with facial hair and his eyes were darting between you and Bakugou.  He had been standing by the cross walk and tried to pretend to be shocked that Bakugou was even addressing him. 
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t pull that bull with me.”  Bakugou stepped around you, making his way towards him. “I saw you get off the train with us.  You made every turn we did.  Always stayed one step behind where you thought we couldn’t see you.”
The kid only got a word out before Bakugou gripped him by his shirt and slammed him up against the wall of the neighboring house.  “Please!” The kid yelled.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Bakugou!”  Your legs finally remembered they could move.  You bolted over to where he was standing, looking between the two of them.  “Bakugou maybe it isn’t him!  Maybe he-”
“Show us your phone then if you don’t have anything to hide!”  He lifted him up and slammed him back against the bricks.
“I don’t have to show you anything, you fucking lunatic!”
You don’t think you had ever seen him on this street.  You don’t think you had seen him ever but-
“HEY!”  The boy tried to stop Bakugou from reaching into his pocket.  But it was no use.
You caught it was ease, “Try the day of the sports festival for the password.”  Was all he said.
This was fucking insane.  What if this kid wasn’t the stalker?  What if he was just some random guy who was meeting a friend.  You looked back and forth between the two of them - Bakugou, hair wild and death in his eyes, and this guy who looked down at him with fear and...
...oh...
You swiped up, entering the date as instructed.
It unlocked.
And you were met with a pretty lain layout.  Some photo editing apps, Youtube, a few games, and...
Texting and Calling apps.  Your blood ran cold as you opened the first one up.  Texts apon texts, all to the same unlisted number.  Your unlisted number.  You went to the photo gallery and there they were.  The pictures of your house.  Some of them were zoomed in and cropped to only show you.  You wanted to be sick.  You wanted to-
“I can explain!”  
“What the fuck,” You breathed, scrolling through the pictures.  Not just of your house, but of you - walking home from school, of hanging out with your friends, of you shopping.  And that’s when you saw the edited versions.
Fuck.  Oh Shit Fuck. 
“I was only trying to help you!!”  He cried, scratching at Bakugou’s wrist, making his skin bleed.  “I only want what’s best for us!”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”  You covered your mouth, trying to think of what to do next.  Should you call the police?  Your parents!?  What do you do now?
His eyes fell on Bakugou, practically snarling.  “I knew he would do something like this!!  I knew he would try to make me look like some psycho, but I’m not.  I know how he would treat you!  He’s a rabid fucking dog, a mongrel!  I couldn’t let him treat you the same way!  I couldn’t!  I’m just trying to protect you!  But you wouldn’t fucking listen!!  So I thought if maybe you and I could talk you would understand!  You would see what I’m-”
“ARGH!”
Your body tensed as the smell of burnt stone and ash filled the air.  You looked up and half expected his head to be blown clean off.  But it was still attached, only now he looked terrified as he stared down at Bakugou.  You followed his gaze, saw the look of pure, unadulterated rage.  His hand had connected to the wall beside the man’s head, smoke dancing up and around them.  And he was shaking.  Oh, god, how hard Bakugou was shaking.
He spoke low, deep in his chest.  “Listen close, you freak.  You’re going to leave her alone from this point forward - you got that?  If I find out you’re even thinking about her, I’ll kill you myself!!”
The world fell silent.  No one said a word until.  Your stalker was crying now, shaking as he nodded, quickly, mumbling apology after apology.  You couldn’t find the words to say, but your heart.  God, your heart was beating so hard in your chest as you stared at Bakugou.  He...he was...
Oh.
The window in the house behind you slid open.  An older man leaned out the window, his wife nervously peering over his shoulder.  The looked to the source of the commotion before standing up straight, fumbling as the smoke continued to rise from the spot Bakugou...well...destroyed.  “Hey!!  If you don’t get off my property, I’m calling the cops!”
...the police.  
...
The police.
Oh god, you had his phone.  You could prove he had been stalking you!!!  You perked up, smiling for the first time in weeks, “Yes!  Yes, please, call the police!”
The man stared at you, confusion on his face. “....what?”
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The weight of the situation only grew heavier when the police searched the contents of the guy’s backpack. 
Rope.  A knife.  Some cloth.  A box of condoms.  And a jar of a clear, sickly sweet smelling liquid.  You heard one of the officers say what it was, though you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear.  But you did, and so did your parents.  Your mom nearly broke down for the third time that evening as your father swore under his breath.  
Homemade chloroform.
His name was Eito Moto - a second year at another High School near your home.  You would find out later that the stalking had started long before the Sports Festival - ever since he started working at the coffee shop you and your mom would go to every Sunday for breakfast.  Your neighbors, the ones who actually called the police, had seen him hanging around sometimes but didn’t think much off it.  
They thought he had just been a fan.  
They decided not to press charges against Bakugou for putting a hole in their fence.  “Given the circumstances,”  The man said, “I think I would have done the same thing.”
You had to go to the police station to file a report and request a restraining order.  It took well into the morning hours, where you mainly spent your time talking to different police officers, retelling the same story, going over evidence, assuring them you didn’t know this guy so you had no clue why he thought you two had been dating for months.  
They sent Bakugou home, your parents offering him their thanks and promises they would find a better, proper way to think him for essentially saving your life.  
By the time you fell into a crumpled heap on your bed, it was 2 in the morning.  It had been so long since you felt...okay.  Your stalker was in police custody for now, you could at least rest easy tonight.  You gripped your pillows, tugging them up and over your head to block out what meager light filtered in through the hallway.  No more late night calls.  No more insistent texts telling you what a no good whore you were.  You were okay.  
Everything was going to be okay. 
Bzzzz.
...oh no.  Oh no.  Oh no.
You peeked out from under your pillow, trying to calm your racing heart.  It couldn’t be him, you thought.  He was in jail, so they wouldn’t let him call you - right?  They wouldn’t let him do that, even if they did give him one call.  With shaking fingers, you reached out and plucked your phone from your end table.
Bakugou is calling!
Oh....oh thank god.
You couldn’t press accept fast enough.  You sighed, resting back against your pillows.  “Hey.”
“Is that bastard in jail?”
A laugh, a good honest laugh.  “Yeah.  Yeah, he’s in jail.  Dad and mom are gonna to talk to a lawyer tomorrow about our options.”
“Did you get a restraining order?”
You nodded.  “Yeah.  That’s what took so long and why we have to go to court.  They gave me an emergency one so...”  You blew out a puff of air, watching as a lock of your hair jumped up and fell back into place.  “At least there’s that.”
“You should have talked to me about this sooner.”  It was softer than you anticipated, less of a bite than he normally had.
You knew you should have.  You should have told someone but...it felt so...pointless?  Like it wouldn’t have mattered.  But, you had to give credit where credit was due.  “I wish I would have.”
He didn’t respond.  You had expected he would have started yelling at you, about hiding it from everyone.  Chastised you for being so stupid and letting it go on for as long as it had.  But no, he stayed quiet.  You could imagine him laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling, and wondered what he was thinking about.  What he wanted to say.  
You rolled over onto your side.  “Hey, Bakugou?”
“What.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long pause before he let out a soft noise.
“Don’t be stupid.  I was only doing what I had to do.”
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Stalkers are fucking scary, yah know.  I had to listen to some voicemails left by stalkers to get the vibe down right - and I still don’t think Eito sounded perfect but hey.  At least one blessing in that:  I’ve never been stalked.  
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writersshock-deactivated · 6 years ago
Text
Nobody ever sends these asks so imma do ‘em all.
lets get personal.
1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?
Um, right now? I really don’t know... Probably Panic! at the Disco’s new Pray for the Wicked album. Eh,,, Dancing’s Not A Crime, Say Amen, High Hopes, Old Fashioned, and then a couple older one’s, maybe Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time and Miss Jackson.
2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?
Jeremy. My crush from summer camp. Just to see him again instead of having to wait 10 months (that is if I can afford it when the time comes -- otherwise I may never see him again). So not exactly ‘meeting’, but.... Celebrity-wise, I don’t know. Perhaps Kamala Harris, a California politician.
3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.
“DNA is often too small to obtain reliable results.” (my forensic textbook)
4: What do you think about most?
I dunno... stuff.
5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?
[sleepy face emoji]
6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
Usually underwear... it really depends whether or not I’m wearing a shirt.
7: What’s your strangest talent?
I don’t know... I can rap, which isn’t strange per say but it’s weird to me.
8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)
Girls are freaking amazing; Boys are freaking amazing too.
9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?
Yes, 2. The negative anon and the positive anon.
10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?
Last night, with my 1 year old sister, to Nirvana.
11: Do you have any strange phobias?
I’m afraid of fire. Like, touching fire or using an oven or working with boiling water.
12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?
No, I have never stuck a foreign object up my nose.
13: What’s your religion?
Atheist, but I have a lot of opinions about philosophy and faith.
14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?
Going inside. Or ‘playing’ with my brother.
15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?
Behind! I love photography! Not photogenic at all though.
16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?
Well my favorite band song of all time is Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana, but they’re not my favorite band. I’d have to say Twenty One Pilots or Panic! at the Disco.
17: What was the last lie you told?
‘No, I have never stuck a foreign object up my nose.’
18: Do you believe in karma?
Not as a Universal phenomena. But yeah, what goes around comes around.
19: What does your URL mean?
Um, ‘writersblock’ was taken. Shocking, right? My main, ‘almondivory’ is more interesting. It’s for my best friend Amber and me, Ian. And her shade of foundation is almond. And mine is ivory. So it all worked out.
20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?
Greatest weakaness is probably laziness. Greatest strength? Passion.
21: Who is your celebrity crush?
Olivia Wilde, Jennifer Lawrence, Rihanna, Beyonce, Kristen Stewart, Penelope Cruz, and Michelle Pfeiffer are all contenders. Yeah, Tyler Joseph and Brendon Urie too.
22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Not since I was little.
23: How do you vent your anger?
Sulk. Listen to soft emo music.
24: Do you have a collection of anything?
Mental disorders.
25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?
Online.
26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?
Not yet.
27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?
I HATE nails on a chalkboard.
28: What’s your biggest “what if”?
‘What if I was rich’? Or ‘what if i was hot’? Or, perhaps, ‘what if i was straight?’
29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?
No. And I think there’s a possibility of some form of life from elsewhere in the universe, but not mainstream aliens.
30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.
Saydon. My neighbor in class. He’s looking at me strangely now. On the left, a cheap “wall” (room divisor).
31: Smell the air. What do you smell?
Not much. A hint of coffee.
32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?
I don’t know... most recently, my brother’s bathroom. It’s supposed to be ‘ours’ but I can’t stand it.
33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?
EAST COAST
34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?
Well, my biological sex is female, even though I am nonbinary. So I’ll go with a male singer (also because there are too many hot girls to choose from) ... Shawn Mendes. Or Tyler Joseph or Brendon Urie.
35: To you, what is the meaning of life?
This is to complicated. It’s not that I don’t have opinions (i have many) but when i talk about this I talk for almost 2 hours and 40 minutes. Yes, I’ve been timed.
36: Define Art.
Creative expression.
37: Do you believe in luck?
Not really? I’m unsure what this means exactly.
38: What’s the weather like right now?
I’m in class, but when I got here it was clear and a little damp.
39: What time is it?
10:41am Tuesday October 30th
40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?
No. Too young (14). But yes. I was in a bad car crash summer 2017.
41: What was the last book you read?
Textbook: for my forensic anthropology class. Otherwise: Summer Reading by Hilma Wolitzer
42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?
Yes!
43: Do you have any nicknames?
By birth name is Fiona. Only one person in the world is allowed to call me Fifi. Otherwise, Ian, Ean, E.K, and E.L. (@scholarlypidgeot)
44: What was the last film you saw?
Not sure if it was Ocean’s 8 or Dangerous Minds.
45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?
Physical? Not sure.
46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?
Yeah, probably, but not for long. I raised caterpillars into butterflies onse.
47: Do you have any obsessions right now?
No, I said, like a liar.
48: What’s your sexual orientation?
Demi-ace.
49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?
Yes. So many.
50: Do you believe in magic?
Not in the way you’re asking.
51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?
No, unfortunately. I forgive too easily and I keep going back to the same abusive friendship.
52: What is your astrological sign?
Virgo, I believe. Sept. 16.
53: Do you save money or spend it?
If it’s my own, save up. Somebody’s else? Spend.
54: What’s the last thing you purchased?
2 coffees and a brownie. I’m healthy.
55: Love or lust?
Love.
56: In a relationship?
No.
57: How many relationships have you had?
1 (but liked 3 people).
58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?
Yes.
59: Where were you yesterday?
Home.
60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?
Yes. A couple of the flowers on my bag are pinkish-purple. My Ziploc bags have blue and pink strips. My jacket is galaxy-patterned and has a little pink in it. Otherwise, no.
61: Are you wearing socks right now?
Yes. Black with white stars, constellations, and cresecent moons. Mid-calf. Warm.
62: What’s your favourite animal?
Dolphin, elephant, owl, cat, or dog.
63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?
I ... don’t have one.
64: Where is your best friend?
About an hour away. She moved at the beginning of the month (had lived literally right across the road, like we could whisper to each other from each other’s yards.
65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.
@thethew​ @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz​ @blacktwittercomedy​ @badjokesbyjeff​ @writersupportgroup​
66: What is your heritage?
English, Scottish, Polish, German. I am a white boi/girl.
67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?
Sleeping, oddly.
68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?
Never thought about it.
69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?
It ... depends on your definition? Think it’s pretty safe to say no.
70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?
No.
71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?
Save the fucking dog!
72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?
a) Yes.
b) I honestly have no idea. Probably contact all my friends from summer camp and tell them how much I love them and the camp. And find Jeremy, my summer camp crush, and tell him that I liked him.
c) Yes.
73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.
Why?! I’d have to say trust. To not be trusted would drive me insane. And not being able to trust anyone would be awful. But love... I mean, I’d be terribly sad without it. :(
74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?
Donald MacGillavry by Silly Wizard.
75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?
8672 (home)
76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?
Trust, support, communication, and understanding.
77: How can I win your heart?
Stab me and remove it in a battle. Other than that? Love me.... <3
78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?
YES
79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?
No idea at all.
80: What size shoes do you wear?
8 or 9 Women’s (US)
81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?
“Age 117 years, 4 months, and 23 days -- she was happy.”
82: What is your favourite word?
Absolutely no idea. Maybe ‘l’eau’?
83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.
Red
84: What is a saying you say a lot?
“?”
85: What’s the last song you listened to?
Homemade Dynamite- REMIX
86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?
Bright yellow - Indigo is where they all are.
87: What is your current desktop picture?
88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?
I thought about this for a while. Nobody. Because everybody I hate, I’d want them to finally understand why I hate them rather than just exploding. They shouldn’t get to go that easy.
89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?
What’s the worst lie you ever told?
90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?
Scream, throw my pillows at them, knock them all over, lock them in my bedroom, and sleep somewhere else.
91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
Well it was okra. Absolutely. No idea what power that gives me? The power to cook delicious food with little effort would be cool.
92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
Dancing with Annie in 2015.
93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
This thing ... I ... watched. On the internet.
94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?
Not into sex. I’m gonna interpret this as ‘making out with’. Hmm... maybe Halsey? Or Brendon Urie (assuming I was instantly a lot older). <3
95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Scotland.
96: Do you have any relatives in jail?
Not yet. My brother’s been close several times. Best friend’s cousin is in jail and her dad almost was (cousin for drug offenses and sexually harassing us, dad for verbally and physically abusing her).
97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?
Yes. I remember twice right now. Once when I was 7 or 8 in San Francisco. Once when I was 10 or 11 after eating really greasy Chinese food.
98: Ever been on a plane?
Yes. Maybe about 10-15 times?
99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?
“YEET”.
No, seriously, probably, “Right now everybody in the world knows who I am. And that terrifies me. Also, I’m in a library so I have to be quiet. Climate change is real.”
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spacechip707 · 7 years ago
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Can you please do #60 for Seven/MC with a lot of fluff? c: (I like embarrassed Seven so if you don't mind can you do that?) I love your writing! It gives me so much happiness and makes me smile whenever there's a new chapter. Thank you so much for that!
I hope this is enough fluff for your sweet tooth! :) and Thank you, anon! It makes me happy that my writing brightens your day:) 
Prompt #60: You are my sunshine
 One would think that it would be the power outage that sent the RFA into absolute chaos inside Jumin’s penthouse. But no…it was three little words.
“Wait…where’s Seven?”
Yoosung noticed his disappearance first, but Jumin reacted before the question even left the blond’s mouth. With a sigh, you watched the scene erupt into something worthy of the best sitcom. You lifted your phone and started recording from your place on the kitchen island. Jaehee was trying to calm Jumin, who was frantically looking for his beloved cat. Meanwhile, Zen was howling with complaints about said cat. And lastly, Yoosung sat in the middle of the floor, head held in his hands, and regret exuding from his very body.
After half a minute, you saved the video and sent it to the culprit.
MC: Look what you’ve done.
You didn’t have to wait long for a response. You opened it, expecting a string of emojis…perhaps a detailed plan…an invitation to join him. Your fingers trembled at the prospect of all the fun you would have with your partner in crime.
707: Haha…Sry
You deflated. His response was so…lifeless.You hovered your thumbs over the keyboard, preparing some sort of reply. But worry squelched any of your enthusiastic answers.
MC: Where are you?
You waited a few minutes, the sinking feeling in your chest growing worse with every second. He couldn’t have gone far. You chewed on your bottom lip as you once again turned to the disorder unfolding in front of you. No one there would be of any help.
You hummed quietly at the phone, sending the same text in case it didn’t go through. A faint ding echoed in the distance. An idea sprung in your mind. Seven would probably make you pay for the flood of notifications, but…when had his threats stopped you before?
You sent one text…then another…and another…all the while, straining your ear over the clamor to listen for the source. It took you awhile to find him. Not only was Jumin’s house large, but some of the hallways weren’t as lit in the outage, and you got lost one or two times. But finally, your long string of texts and your phone’s flashlight led you to a spare coat closet in the middle of the main hallway. Your knuckles had barely hit the wood when you heard Seven’s exasperated cry.
“Elly! Move away from my–ouch!”
You cringed at Elizabeth’s hiss. “Er–Seven? You okay?”
He squeaked and suddenly went silent. Your lips twitched downwards. Was he avoiding you? In a bout of spite, you called his phone. You crossed your arms as the nyan cat theme song drifted from the closet.
The door  opened slowly. You flinched when what you assumed to be Elizabeth tickled your leg as she darted to freedom. In the dim light, you could see Seven giving you a sheepish grin. He was about to step out of the closet, but for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to push him back in and join him, closing the door behind you.
“Oh, MC, such a bold move,” he sung. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about me.”
Your face burned at his coy remark, but you suppressed your embarrassment. You shined your phone light onto him, making him squint. “What the heck are you doing in here?”
“Well, I was trying to fix the outage,” he said, gesturing to the open panel at the back of the closet. “But then, one thing led to another, and Elly got in and sat on my phone, and then she scratched me–”
He pulled up his sleeve, revealing the thin lines of blood streaking his arm. You winced, but you were pretty sure he deserved it. After all, the door was closed after Elizabeth seemed to have gotten in.
Seven sweeped his own phone off the ground and flopped back onto the floor in front of the panel. “But as you can see, I’m fine. You should go back to the others. Send me more videos.”
You were unfazed by the fake, exuberant responses. Even in the poor, combined light of both of your phones, you could see his brows twitching as he pretended to concentrate on the panel.
You sat down and stared straight at him. At first, there was no reaction. He continued to maneuver his fingers across various wires, pulling some here and there. But then, his actions grew more restless. Glancing at you from the side of his eyes…ruffling his hair in frustration…and finally twisting his entire body to face you.
He calmly crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. “Okay, spill it. What’s wrong?”
“I’m here to ask you that,” you returned.
He raked a hand through his curls. “I already told you–”
His last words were interrupted when you pinched his cheeks harshly. He whined as you tugged his face back and forth. “Don’t lie to me, Seven. I know you too well,” you said, keeping your tone slightly playful knowing he might just avoid talking about whatever was bothering him.
He grabbed your hands and pried them off of his face. He pinned them together before you continued your torture. “Nothing. It has nothing to do with the RFA or you.”
You pursed your lips, not satisfied with his answer. Still, you didn’t want to intrude past your limits. You were always careful with your distance… not because he was “Mr. Dangerous” as he insisted, but he seemed to open up to you a lot more lately. You were terrified that one day you’d push him too far, and he’d retreat further into himself. You weren’t sure you could handle that. As much as you were scared to admit it, the bright–albeit sometimes loud–hacker had weaseled his way into your heart.
“Rough day at work?” you ventured.
He gave an affirmative grunt, finding a sudden fascination with your fingers. Warmth spread through your cheeks as the pad of his thumb ran down your palm with surprising gentleness. “I just…needed a few moments to myself. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
You hummed in understanding. Although, your chest ached a little seeing his lips downturned in a distressed frown. You cleared your throat, snatching his attention. “Well, then, Defender of Justice, I offer my services to rid you of your sorrows for a small fee.”
“What’s that?” he responded. Even those two words were heavy-laden with an unknown affliction.
You extracted your hands from his before placing a finger on either side of his mouth. You pulled upwards. Laughter spilled from your lips as you observed his confused and ridiculous smile you had enforced. “You have to give me one of these! A genuine one.”
“Hey!” he said, though his muffled admonition only made you laugh more. Again he grasped your hands in his lap. He pressed his lips in a fine line. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Anything?”
You nodded, knowing there was a chance you might regret leaving yourself to his command. 
He clicked his tongue and leaned back against the wall. “Okay, then…do an impersonation of Elly.”
You smirked before swiping your nails across his exposed arm. He yelped and jumped back. He shot you a disgruntled scowl before muttering, “Touché.”
He snatched your phone and his from the ground and turned off the flashlight. You two were now completely engulfed in darkness. “Uh…Seven?”
“Next thing,” he went on, his voice still in front of you. “I’m placing our phones in a corner. Find them.”
You hesitated at the request. It was far too easy. After all, the closet wasn’t that large to begin with. You reluctantly crawled on all fours patting around the corner to your left. Then suddenly, two arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back before you realized what was happening. “Got you!” he cheered.
Seven’s fingers danced up and down your sides, causing peals of laughter to erupt from your mouth against your will. He didn’t stop until you were out of breath and gasping for air. His own laughter joined yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.
“Payment received,” you said. “Hope you’re satisfied.”
His arms tightened around you, and the scruff of his hair tickled your neck as he squeezed you in his embrace. “You’re my sunshine. You know that?”
If anyone else had said it to you, you would’ve dismissed it as the cheesiest statement on the earth. But with Seven? You couldn’t stop your head from spinning.
Then, in the midst of the darkness, something soft feathered against your lips. If his words lit  a flame inside your chest, his kiss sent a wildfire scorching through your veins.
He pulled away abruptly, his arms loosening their grip around you. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” he blurted. “I-I meant to kiss your cheek, but I couldn’t see and–Gah! Why did I even do that? You probably hate me, right? Do you want to slap me? Would that make you feel better–”
You silenced him simply by reaching out your hand and placing your fingers where you thought his face was. You traced along his features until the tip of your thumb reached his lips. A gulp slid down his throat, and you felt the warmth of his breath as he parted his mouth.
“Seven…” you hesitated. Your hand drifted from his face, and your fingers curled against his chest. Your body seemed to be pulled by an invisible string, drawing closer and closer out of its own volition.
Once again, your lips met with all the hesitance from before. Then, a spark and all was aflame. You lost yourself in bliss, only aware of him.
How he pressed into the kiss…how his hands pulled you against him as he deepened it…how he cupped the back of your neck…the feeling of his racing heart under your fingers…the sweet taste on his mouth…the light flooding into the room…
No wait.
You jumped apart, and Seven unceremoniously shoved you off his lap. Fluorescent light shone from the doorway, casting a shadow into the previously completely dark closet. You turned to see a silhouette of a tall man in the doorway, his ponytail swinging behind him.
“G-guess the power came back on?” you said, a nervous chuckle escaping your throat.
Zen glared down at you two–well, mostly Seven. The latter clambered to his feet, and you followed suit.  “C-calm down, Zen,” Seven said with hands raised in surrender. “I can explain.”
The older man exhaled shakily, a strained smile plastered to his face. “MC…I think you should join the others and continue the meeting. Seven will be there soon.”
You turned to the red head who had turned several shades paler, despite the flush on his cheeks. You patted it gently. “I’m sure he’s just teasing,” you reassured.
He didn’t seem so hopeful. You exited the scene before you made things worse for him.You stopped in the empty kitchen and pressed a hand to your still thundering heart.
You weren’t sure what was going to happen next with Seven. Was it a mistake? Would he even accept you now? You didn’t know the answer to either. But, there was something hopeful blossoming inside of you. Perhaps the events of this evening would end in nothing. Or…perhaps it could end with…everything. Your chest was ready to burst at the prospect.
You glanced back in the direction of the small closet. But you supposed…Seven would have to make it past Zen alive first.
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mooosicaldreamz · 7 years ago
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prompt: supercorp, Kara introduces Lena to her friend, Diana Prince. Lena becomes too gay to function
i’m gonna be real, anon, your prompt flopped around on me a lil. i love diana prince!!!!!!! 
anyway, i’m writing prompts because i hit 1k followers!!!! i’ve been seeing the prompts come through, so if you’ve already sent one, don’t worry - i’ve got it. if you like what i’ve written, send more??
“Hello,” a voice says from behind Lena, sufficiently startling her. She’s been staring idly at the painting in front of her, a swath of blue paints that reminds her of Kara, of course. Kara, who’s running late to meet her for the exhibit opening at the National City Art Museum. An exhibit that L Corp is sponsoring. Kara’s last text was from fifteen minutes ago, half of it barely readable, claiming that Supergirl is breaking up a robbery on her bus route and gumming up her arrival time. There’s also a couple emojis: one sweating smiley, a rose, and, perhaps most mysteriously, the pink woman with her hand held aloft.
She turns around to find a woman looking down at her. The woman is absurdly beautiful, with bronzed skin and deep brown eyes, and her hair is tumbling off to the side in a delicate fishtail braid that Lena very suddenly wants to touch. She doesn’t because of boundaries, which this woman seems to content to filter through; she’s inching closer to Lena, now.
“Ms. Luthor,” she says, and Lena feels like her mouth goes dry. She chances a glance around the room; no one is aware of this exchange. So Lena takes a sip of her champagne, tries to draw herself up to full height, and looks this walking art piece in the face.
“Hello,” she says. “I’m afraid we haven’t met before.”
“No,” the other woman says, smiling gently. Her teeth are very white, and her smile is perfectly fitted to her face. “But I have heard of you.”
Where on earth did this woman come from? She often has thoughts like this in regards to Kara, when she’s being similarly intoxicating and strange, but the low, accented voice that this woman speaks with is shocking in its affect. Lena feels like she could listen to her talk forever.
Somehow, Kara manages to interrupt this moment of intensity by stumbling into her airspace, dressed in a gorgeous cocktail dress that fills Lena to the brim with distraction from the other woman in front of her. She grabs ahold of Lena by the arm, tugging her into a hug that squeezes tightly at Lena’s chest, and she’s muttering something about how she’s so sorry and Supergirl had managed to stop the robbers and her bus had finally started chugging along, and oh my gosh Lena you look gorgeous look at the art it’s beautiful and I’m so happy you invited me to come to this, it’s so cool -
The woman in front of her clears her throat, and Kara, who’s mid-hug, freezes a little. She lets go of Lena apprehensively, her hand still resting on Lena’s arm - warm and still distracting. When she lands eyes on the woman, who Lena’s just-now realized is wearing a floor-length red dress that Lena would kill people to wear so well, Kara gasps.
“Diana!” she yelps, throwing herself forward and accidentally moving the other woman - Diana, apparently - backward. They right themselves gracefully, Kara talking a mile-a-minute and Diana giggling prettily and clutching at Kara. It stirs up a hot feeling in Lena, watching them barely separate from their hug to chatter nearly in each other’s faces, Diana reaching up to grab ahold of Kara’s face on both sides and talk to her in her accent - low as ever, bubbling with laughter, the kind of accent that Lena can’t ever place but sounds wonderful anyway.
“ - I have not seen you since the fall on the island! I was invited to attend this event by the artist, and then I saw your friend Ms. Luthor here, and I had so hoped that I would see you! I was hoping you had finally resolved the situation, so I was glad to see - “
“Ha! No, no, no, nothing’s changed at all since the island,” Kara whispers, interrupting and grinning almost manically. Lena frowns, her grip on her champagne tightening. Kara is the worst possible secret keeper, and Lena knows her well enough to know when it’s happening. Hence how she had figured out she was Supergirl in a little under two months.
“Why ever not?” Diana asks, her grip on Kara’s head squeezing just a little. Kara’s pretty much impervious to pain, from what Lena can understand, but she winces a little under the grip.
“Well, it’s complicated,” Kara starts to say, and then an alarm is ringing out, along with a smattering of what sounds like gunfire, on the other end of the gallery, behind a wall of the exhibit. Lena rolls her eyes; of course she would finally get Kara in a nice dress on what could easily be considered a date, and then the event is attacked and Kara gets distracted by a gorgeous foreigner who seems content to stare deeply into Kara’s eyes and talk with their faces very close.
In fact, they’re just staring at each other as the gunfire continues and there’s yelling and screaming. Kara should be ripping off her clothes to go fight the evildoers, and instead she’s so distracted by this woman that she can’t remember who she is. It goes on for a solid seven seconds more, and finally, Lena’s had enough of this.
“Kara, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” Lena says, and she can’t help but keep the edge out of her voice. Kara shocks from her staring to blink over at Lena, her arms still halfway around Diana.
“Wha - what?” Kara asks, her jaw hanging open as more alarms go off and a voice yells everyone get down on the ground. Lena feels like her comment was self-explanatory, honestly, but Kara looks gobsmacked. So she opens her mouth to say it more clearly, but Diana is speaking.
“I told you she sounded too smart to have not known,” Diana says, tapping on Kara’s forehead and clucking her tongue. Kara has the sense to look scolded by it. “I will deal with it. You stay with her.”
And then Diana is gone, suddenly, inexplicably. Kara is still blinking, adjusting her glasses and looking from the floor to just beyond Lena’s shoulder and back to the floor.
“Usually I’m the one who says that,” Kara mutters.
A loud crashing noise is heard then, and over the gallery wall, a man comes flying. He’s ragdolling through the air, really, and most everyone has vacated this end of the gallery for the room furthest from the attackers, but Kara sighs as she knocks him out of the air and to the ground, like she’s swatting away a fly. Lena’s known her best friend and hoped-future-significant-other was Supergirl for a long time now, but it’s still insane to see Kara - not Supergirl, but Kara Danvers, glasses and blinking wide blue eyes - smack a fully-grown man to the ground.
“And Alex says I’m the messy one,” Kara mumbles again, crossing her arms and turning to look at Lena. “We should probably talk.”
“Don’t tell me that woman is from Krypton too,” Lena says. “Kryptonians can’t all be ridiculously attractive.”
Kara blinks again, turning to watch as another man is tossed over the gallery wall, unconsciously plunking into the floor.
“She’s actually from an island populated only by women,” Kara says.
“Sounds like a dream,” Lena says. Kara laughs, just a little, and it gets stuck in her throat as she reaches for Lena again, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. It’s warm and calming, and Lena feels, for the first time, that her heart’s been racing along.
“So you think I’m ridiculously attractive?” is whispered in her ear, then, and Lena’s heart races ever harder.
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bartsugsy · 7 years ago
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Can u tell me how you felt watching the incident with Rebecca and Robert? I mean honestly the thoughts crossing ur mind as the minutes passed? How were you processing the dialogue your emotions?
anon i remember it VIVIDLY and i shall recap it for u here and now, should you actually have any desire to relive this waking nightmare that has plagued our lives ever since, in all it’s true and beautiful, terrible glory
(because i can do this now that i have clearly moved past this fictional event emotionally like the well-adjusted human i am)
this is long
PART THE FIRST: me, whatever date that thing happened, march 2017: a summary
me, before ep, with an impending sense of dread: where is my time machine when will this be over
me, when the boys start fighting: gdi boys
me, when robert is getting drunk: gdi robert
me, when adam tells vic not to go round: GOD DAMN IT ADAM
me, when robert calls rebecca: G O D D A M N I T R O B E R T
me, when rebecca goes round: god damn it rebeccaaaaaaaa
me, when robert starts ranting about aaron and being cruel: …………..*whispering* oh god damn it robert
me, when robert tries to kiss rebecca: god mother fucking D A M N I T ROBERT
me, when rebecca pulls away: 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 GOD 👏🏼 DAMN 👏🏼 IT 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 REBECCA !!!!!!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯👏🏼👏🏼!!!
me, when i realise THE EPISODE ISNT OVER YET: oh god damn it
me, when robert chases after rebecca, now fully committed to complete life destruction in the stupid way that only robert sugden can manage, and starts talking shit to try and get her to sleep with him like a True Idiot Fucking Sleazebag: ……………………….god fucking damn it
me, when rebecca decides HEY FUCK IT WHO CARES THAT I KNOW HE’S MARRIED AND VULNERABLE AND THEY START DOING A DEVIL DANCE WITH THEIR TONGUES AS IF SATAN HIMSELF HATH RISEN TO EARTH THROUGH THE USE OF THE WELL KNOWN AND LOVED BY ONLY OLD PEOPLE AND MASOCHISTS BRITISH SOAP AND BAFTA AWARD WINNING BRITISH SOAP EMMERDALE, WHILE I IMMEDIATELY START GOOGLING THE BEST WAY TO BURN YOUR OWN EYEBALLS OUT OF YOUR SKULL: fuck.
PART THE SECOND: a trip down blog memory lane: the aftermath
immediately afterwards, i started laughing for bit and posted this and danny tweeted a sad emoji or some shit and i wanted to delete twitter
and then i leapt upon the opportunity to yell at robert for being a knob, as i am wont to do
next, i slipped into denial and then this anon predicted the future in the worst way possible
and lastly, i took the opportunity to spin a beautiful and stupid metaphor about a mug and started to believe in the future (which still applies, a blessing).
there were a lot of other posts made, of varying degrees of meta and annoyance, but the highlight was, and always will be, this singular anon message i received. i mean. 
truly.
what a trip.
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