#anyway please give me my medal now. I think I deserve it for being so good at *looks at notes* not letting fiction affect my morals
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rayday-mayday · 5 months ago
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One thing I find infinitely funny is the "reading/writing xyz fiction is gonna normalize it to you" and "reading/writing xyz fiction will make you do it" arguments, cuz I've been reading darkfiction since my teen life began.
[ Rant about personal experiences and such under the cut ]
Like, should I have been reading yandere and non-con fanfics/oneshots/headcanons when I was 12/13? No, obviously not, but it did go to show one thing for me: That the arguments mentioned above hold no water.
I've been reading this shit my entire teen life, you know, during most of my formative years, and I have yet to SA/rape/stalk/murder/whatever anyone, or find any of it okay irl.
Hell, I've reported someone at my IT school to the teachers/social workers cuz they were showing stalker-ish/parasocial tendencies towards some random ass guy they didn't even know the name of nor talk to. ( They held anti beliefs as well which I find ironic. )
Same goes for age gap/pedophilia/incest/etc. While those things are newer stuff I'm into/have come to accept in fiction, I still hate my family, I still cut contact with a really close irl friend cuz they were 21 and dating a 16 year old ( legal in both countries but it's obv unethical, ) and so on.
Antis just have weak ass morals, though I think that's pretty known by now lmao.
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cherrysimmer1 · 2 months ago
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Chapter 28
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Agatha let out a sigh. "She's your cousin," Myrtle pleaded, "She's your family. Imagine being in her shoes!"
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There were a few seconds of silence, then Agatha shook her head 'no' with a light chuckle.
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"I'm serious," Myrtle insisted. "Okay and? I'm not allowed to refuse being involved with Agnes' problems?" Agatha asked.
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"Oh, please! As if that could even cross your mind! You? Refuse?! You wouldn't!"
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Agatha exhaled, "You're right, I wouldn't."
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She turned around. Her face shifted from deeply thoughtful to falsely joyful.
"I would never!" She exclaimed in a fake happy tone. "I love her too much for that! She's my cousin, right?"
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"We're family, aren't we? Isn't that what family members do?"
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"Or are, at least, supposed to do?"
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"Ever since we were kids, I was always there for Agnes! In the good, the bad and the ugly times!"
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"Especially in the bad and ugly times..."
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"All these years until now, nothing really changed in our lives! It's just like in the past! Me trying to fix her mess!"
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"I'm glad you won't let her down," Myrtle said, "Agnes is one of my favorite friends. I adore her. After all that she's been through, I wish her nothing but happiness! I think she deserves it."
She added, "I wish I could help her myself but... I'm too much of a wuss!..."
"No, you're not." Agatha reassured.
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"I don't have your courage..." Myrtle continued. "You already know my issues with nightmares, how one little fright can give me sleepless nights for weeks. My mind get so scared that I become paranoid. Remember the time I couldn't be alone in my own apartment for months?"
"Yes," Agatha replied, "I remember. But you fought it! You fought your racing thoughts successfully. You got over your paranoia."
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"It never really went away," said Myrtle in a mildly sad tone. "It's intermittent. But thank God my kids come over sometimes to keep me company when I'm too scared alone. I know you tried to make me face my fears and all but... well I'm... I'm working on that!"
"Oh, good!", Agatha encouraged. "Keep working on it and you will overcome your fears! Don't you ever stop. Only you can make the change you are seeking in your mind."
Myrtle sighted slightly, "Anyway, I strongly wish for Agnes to get rid of that curse!"
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"You know... I always tried my best to protect Agnes when we were growing up," Agatha recalled. "Whether she was in trouble at school or at home, I was there to solve her problems and it became a habit. From kindergarten all the way through those lovely high school years up to college."
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Agatha took a deep breath, "I will continue to try whatever and however I can do to get her out of trouble. Whichever kind of trouble it is..."
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"...Even the supernatural ones."
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"Her troubles are my troubles. Always been. I'm so blessed."
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"Her problems are my problems. That's so great, I'm so fortunate."
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"Her curse is my curse. What a dream! It's all I asked for."
Oblivious of Agatha's contradictory facial expressions, Myrtle seemed thrilled by her friend's words.
"She's so lucky to have you!" Myrtle said.
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Agatha turned around with a serious face and looked at her friend straight in the eye, "I'll speak to a priest, I'll consult a psychic, I'll convoke a shaman, I'll summon a witch, I'll call a medium, I'll invite a spirit worker..."
"You're the best!" exclaimed Myrtle.
"Anything that puts me on the right direction to protect Agnes from being haunted."
"I'd give you the cousin of the year medal or something!"
"Yeah... I'll do all I can to help Agnes."
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writefightandflightclub · 2 years ago
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Danny! Thank you so much for this kind, glowing review! I’m so pleased that you enjoyed this. Perhaps I do need to share more daydreams 😆
This man lives for the drama! 🤣🤣🤣 The fact that most people have a year to plan their Met outfits, with a designer, and he called a team for reader WHILE IT IS ALREADY HAPPENING?? It’s so Nathan though, and he does get minimal points for remembering which one is her favourite.
And he 100% WOULD have taken reader in her sweats ensemble, he gives no shits, and genuinely thinks she looks cute as hell anyway.
Since I can’t stop thinking about this, here are a few extra headcanons I had for the evening (just my take and certainly not meant to negate any other theories!):
Nathan arrived to the Met Gala alone. He had been determined not to give in to your excessive hinting and actually take you. That said, he didn’t want to take anyone else? He was being stubborn, as usual, and denying his feelings. Taking you to the Met with him would be a Big Deal, and it would Mean Something, and he wasn’t ready to admit he felt that way about you. At least, not out loud. The thing was, when he got there, all he could think about was you. As he walked up the red carpet, through the throngs of people in their finery, all he could hear was you twittering about what type of outfit you’d wear. Your speculations about which celeb would best understand the assignment. As he walked up the steps, all he could hear were your cute little facts about the Met, and it’s collections, and so on and so on. Then, everyone he talked to, rubbed shoulders with… they just weren’t… They just weren’t you. And he had a million revelations, sitting there with his appetisers and listening (reluctantly) to Royce climb further up his own ass with every moment. And he thought about how happy it would make you to be here. About how much happier HE would be if you were here, and that was it. He stood. “Fuck this shit.” “Where are you going?” his table asked. “Forgot something.”
It’s a little bit awkward when Nathan realises he has to fire you in the car over to the Gala. He can get away with a lot but after The Incident up at the compound *shudder* he can’t afford the fallout he’ll suffer for groping his assistant’s ass on the red carpet. (And yes, he plans to feel you up. In that dress, are you kidding?). You protest initially, until Nathan pulls out his cell and within moments transfers you a hefty severance package right to your bank account. “Nathan! That’s too much!” “I added extra. Preemptive damages - for dating me, honey.”
By the time you arrive to the red carpet, much of the frenzy has died down, but there is still a contingent of press there to catch any stragglers. “Nathan! Nathan!” They clamour, trying to get his attention. “Didn’t you already walk the carpet?” And, of course, they are rather intrigued by you. “Excuse me! Miss! Who are you?” “Oh, I’m nobody. I have no talents,” you dismiss, attempting to divert the attention and move on along the line. “I dispute that,” Nathan says right down the camera lens. And, he thinks he deserves a goddamn MEDAL for resisting the urge to add “she showed me at least three talents in the ride over.” It’s about time he gave his publicist a break, right.
You talk to the press, who dub you Mystery Woman, and the internet lights up trying to dish on who you are. You’re inexperienced at this, and most of your comments are adorable factoids, but your enthusiasm is endearing, and everyone watching at home, it seems, loves you. Nathan, meanwhile, for once hangs back, doesn’t try to hog the limelight, but lets you bask in it. His hand is on you whenever he can manage it, on the small of your back, on your elbow, reassuring and constant. And yes. Of course. He groped the hell out of your ass.
“Why wasn’t this lovely companion with you the first time around, Nathan?” “I was in denial,” Nathan responds curtly. “And what are you in now?” For a moment, Nathan looks at you, as you chat amiably with the next person down the line. It’s subtle. Very subtle. But the camera doesn’t miss anything. It captures the soft, adoring sheen which glosses his eyes. The way his lips can’t help lilting into the smallest of smiles as he gazes at you. The implication is clear, though unspoken. He’s in love. But, of course, that’s not what he says. “I’m in a hurry. Hey, come on, gotta catch that tour, huh?” You turn to Nathan and you smile at him brightly, and it only stoked the adoration in his eyes.
You got ready in, like, 20 minutes. For the Met Gala. Including hair, make-up, dress, alterations. You look “tasty”, according to Nathan, though you swear he would have said that before your transformation too. Suffice to say, in the rush, you forgot a few things. Your phone, for one. Nathan assures you that he’ll buy you every Getty Image snap of you there is. You also forgot deodorant. You also missed most of the dinner service. “Hey. You.” Nathan says, producing a wad of money from somewhere. “Can you head out and grab a few things?” The young servers eyes bug at the cash. “Certainly, Sir. What do you need?” “Deodorant. And a bag of Cheetos.” The server nods and begins to head off. “Wait! Make that two!”
Nathan let’s you take the lead once you’re inside. He thinks you’re entirely adorable when you’re reciting facts to him, or looking around in awe, your eyes huge like dinner plates. He lets you drag him by the hand and you walk up to every single celebrity you recognise, even when he does get a little insecure as you track down some tall, beefy hunks. You even catch him extending himself to his full height (maybe even tippy toes?).
SO MUCH snark, all evening, about everything. All the grumbling. But you can tell, truthfully, how happy he is.
SO MUCH ass groping, honestly.
At the end of the night, you two very much skip the after parties, in favour of one of your own. What happens during that is up for grabs, though Nathan has the idea that it would be fun to hop you up on the kitchen counter and eat you out until his beard is glistening with you. You had fooled around earlier, but that had been frenzied. An explosion of months of sexual tension. Now, back at home, you can take your time, and things take on a much more languid, deliberate pace which only heightens their intensity. Neither of you even bother undressing fully for round one. Nathan simply hitches that dress up, loosens off his belt and zipper and slides home. Still, your layers are gradually stripped over the course of the night and that’s precisely how it feels. But the time you are curled into Nathan’s arms, under the covers, you are both entirely bare, in more ways than one.
The next day starts slow. You didn’t get any sleep last night. You wake up and kiss each other good morning. Nathan’s smile is bright as you don your dress again for a joke but then… just don’t take it off, wafting around the apartment like you’re a Queen. Nathan clothes himself in some snuggly, waffly sweats though, and soon, after breakfast, the two of you are curled under a blanket on the couch, watching E (again) and scrolling the socials for all the pictures and goss from last night. Turns out you and Nathan may have broken the internet after all. You read the headlines together with delight. “Nathan Bateman’s Ass Breaks The Internet.” “Nathan Bateman: Your New Guilty Crush?” “Nathan Bateman: The Daddiest of Daddies?”. And, to your surprise, there is a lot of focus on you. “Who is Nathan’s Mystery Met Woman?: Get the Scoop Here!” “Get you someone who looks at you the way Nathan Bateman looks at Mystery Woman.” Turns out that you were a hit, and that the public got behind your down-to-earth persona, and unfiltered joy at being there. “She is all of us!” one publication declares.
Later that afternoon, Nathan’s publicist even delivers you a fruit basket for making him look good - a feat, she insists, that she has never been able to achieve. In honour of this favourable press, Nathan sends her on a paid vacation for good measure. Figures she needs it.
Beyond that, you just… forget to leave, but Nathan doesn’t even seem to mind. In fact, you finally stop feeling “uninvited”, when he gets it together to ask you to stay. “Are you asking me to move in here?” “I mean. That would be weird. Because then you’d be here but I go back to Alaska tomorrow, remember?” You roll your eyes. “So what are you asking, Bateman?” He pulls you close. “I’m just asking you to be wherever I am.” Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? “Like, your assistant?” “No. Not like my assistant.” There is more that Nathan doesn’t say, but he doesn’t need to. When he’s looking at you like that, it’s abundantly clear. He was in denial. And now? Now, he’s very much in love. Turns out, so are you.
Uninvited: Nathan Bateman x fem!reader
Summary: Nathan attends the Met Gala, but there’s something missing. That’s you. (If you’re literally Elon Musk please don’t read this 😂.)
Genre: mainly fluff, getting together fic.
Warnings / rating: mature for implied smut but that’s not the focus. Swearing, alcohol mentions (Nathan has a beer). Boss / employee relationship. Some reader self-esteem issues. OOC Nathan, probably (I’m writing him older and a bit more mellow here).
Author’s note: it’s not that deep and it’s not that clever. I just want Nathan to take me to the Met Gala, okay? So, welcome to my self-indulgent drivel 😝 Probably typos, this was only ever meant to exist for me so I didn’t spend a ton of time on it, but hopefully it’s coherent enough?!
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You startle when you hear the door to Nathan’s apartment click open, feeling only a little relieved when you see the familiar silhouette of Nathan by the door.
Shit.
He’s not supposed to be back yet! And you’re not supposed to be here at all! He should still be out at the Met Gala, and you -his long-suffering assistant- should very clearly be in your own home on your night off. Certainly not stretched out on your boss’ couch in sweats, eagerly shovelling this snaffled, bougie ice cream into your mouth.
You spring into action immediately, slamming the lid of your laptop shut as first priority. The last thing you would want is for Nathan to realise you’ve been meticulously monitoring the socials, your prime objective to swoon hard over every photo and tik tok of him in that suit on that infamous red carpet - Getty Images be damned for their slowness. Next, you shove the tub of ice cream away from yourself, as though Nathan will be able to tell -somehow- that you have been near crying into it all evening. Your plight is quite a singular one, after all. Not only was your boss - who you are secretly crushing on, by the way - slated to attend the Met Gala without you (the audacity!) but he looks so good whilst doing it that you could easily form a puddle and seep between the cracks in his hardwood floors.
So, when he enters, you spring up from your seat guiltily, and a little too fast, swaying with an instant head rush. Or, perhaps, the sudden light-headedness is because you have finally gotten a good look at Nathan as he steps into the soft light, cast throughout the open plan apartment.
You drink him in and God, he looks even hotter in real-life in this formal get-up. The suit’s a little bland for the Met Gala, granted, even if you had begged his monochrome, minimalist ass to go all out for the occasion. Still, it is tailored to perfection. The details add a little flair beyond his usual attire, a subtle sheen on the lapels, and the fabric cut in the deepest midnight blue, complementing his golden brown skin perfectly. It sits just right too with his metallic silver frames, as well as the few grey hairs which sneak through his dense raven beard, glinting like solder and circuitry. He looks like the night sky, welcoming and deep and dense and alluring as all hell, his eyes hooded, enthralling planets.
To sum up, Nathan looks divine, especially given that he has now loosened off his bow tie - and a few buttons on that crisp white shirt. Given that he has his hands shoved in his pockets, tugging the luxe material tight over his hips and thighs - and ass, no doubt. You bet he looks damn good from behind too.
As he stands there, looking up at you from beneath his lenses in that singular way which turns you into putty, you will your face to contort in any one of the accepted formations - a smile in greeting, perhaps - but, instead, you get the feeling that’s not quite what you’re pulling off. Not at all. In fact, you get the distinct impression that you’re looking at him like a goldfish butting its head up against the side of a tank.
For a moment you feel slightly sick at the thought that he might have returned early because he brought someone home, and you manage to tear your eyes away from his deep, dark allure long enough to scan the place, satisfied to find out that he is indeed alone.
Nathan’s thick brows knit in concern as he surveys you, yet you can detect the faint hint of amusement in his tone when he speaks. You know him well enough to catch the subtle smirk beneath that glorious beard. “You okay, honey, or are you having some kind of aneurism?”
Well. Something is certainly happening to you. He is having an… effect, that’s for sure.
“Sorry. I’m…” You clear the sudden frog in your throat. “I’m not at my apartment. I’m… here.”
Wow. You’re not doing too well, are you?
Meanwhile, Nathan looks at you like you’re stupid, and you decide you’d probably have to pay a lot of dollar to your therapist to figure out why that makes you even hotter for him. Better left alone, you wager. “Yeah. I noticed, sweet cheeks.”
“Sarcasm. That’s a new one,” you say sarcastically, your cheek finally tugging on a smile.
He looks handsome. Beautiful. And, you slouch despondently as you all too suddenly recall your own sloppy sweats situation. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this. Especially not after spending the whole evening rubbing shoulders with the most beautiful people, donned in the most dazzling finery imaginable. He definitely wasn’t supposed to have that unfavourable comparison rattling around in his big fat genius brain, now was he? You already felt like you weren’t good enough for the likes of him.
Regardless, in the next moment, you trip over a million words, wanting to offer up some explanation for your presence, and yet all you manage to say is… precisely nothing. Therefore, to distract yourself from him - and to distract him from wondering what you’re doing here - you sidle over to the fridge, grabbing him a beer and you a mineral water. He looks grateful when you pop the cap, crossing the space to hand it to him, condensation pooling on your fingers.
Instantly, he takes a casual swig, and while he does, you finally manage to compose yourself. At least, halfway there.
“Nathan,” you say plainly. “You do know the Met Gala is happening now, right? I know I put it in your calendar.” You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing towards the humongous TV. “Also, you were there. I saw you on E.”
His eyes crinkle subtly at the corners, with a fondness and a familiarity which -honestly- takes you aback. He doesn’t even seem to mind that you’re in his apartment. This is all… very unexpected.
After all. He’s not supposed to be here! Then again… neither are you.
“What are you doing here?” you both ask at the same time.
Nathan huffs out a breath, impatiently. “You first.”
Well, that’s fair, you suppose. You are in his house uninvited.
As your brain trips over excuses, you barely register when Nathan’s warm hand grips you by the elbow, seamlessly guiding you back towards the couch. Once arrived, he nods for you to take a seat alongside him, plonking his ample ass down.
You bite your thumb nail. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d finish up some work while you were out.” It sounds plausible, right? No. It doesn’t sound plausible at all, you realise, as Nathan openly surveys the scene on the coffee table before you. He delivers a knowing quirk of his eyebrow. Your palms start to sweat. Your game is all the way up, it looks like. “And then, okay. I ended up watching E, ordering take-out, and eating all your ice cream.” You opt to leave out the part about foaming at the mouth over every snap of him to have graced the internet this evening. Nathan’s ego is huge enough, right, to forego that detail? “It’s just so much nicer here than my shitty place. And I didn’t think you’d be back for ages.” Well, it’s not a lie. However: the whole truth is that you’d simply wanted to be with him tonight, and this -sad as it might be- was as close as you could get. “And I.. God. I just looove the Met Gala, okay?”
“You do?” Nathan’s mouth twitches into an amused smirk as he witnesses your combo of panicked excuses and excited gushing.
“Not that I’d know, obviously. But hey! Clearly I love it more than you do! Why in the hell are you doing back so early anyway?” Nathan simply regards you stoically, and you clap your hands to your cheeks, suddenly imagining the worst. “Oh god. Nathan. What did you do?”
Nathan all but rolls his eyes. “Calm down, honey. Calm down? Well. That’s a nice notion, but you can’t. You can’t quite manage to calm down when he’s looking at you so attentively, long lashes fanning intermittently over his big brown eyes, blown-out and obsidian in this dim light. Not when he’s dressed in that tux jacket and crisp white shirt, the top few buttons loosened off. When the scent of his expensive, intoxicating cologne is wafting over you. “I managed to behave myself. More or less,” he reassures.
“First time for everything.”
“Uh huh.”
“Though it is only like 9pm.”
“Still plenty of time to be naughty, huh?”
Shit. That hits different. You’re used to his flirting by now. His crude comments. His explicit banter. Of course. But you could swear he injected a touch more grit into his deep, robust voice this time. Could swear he looked at you some kind of way, his eyes hooded, animated by a languidly catching spark. And, thinking of what being “naughty” might possibly involve? Well, it has your brain short-circuiting all over again.
That system failure is the only reason you fail to protest as Nathan shifts to the edge of the couch and reaches towards your laptop. It all feels a little blurry and unreal. You can barely even hear the words he’s saying anymore over your loud thoughts. Your thoughts of the bare patch of skin at his neck. His warm, veined hands peeking from beneath those white cuffs. The way his suit jacket tugs taut over his cultivated shoulders as he moves.
“You know who was on my fucking table?” Nathan begins casually, another indicator of his familiarity and comfort with you. “Royce Whistler’s Mother-Broadbean, or whatever the shit his name is. Do you remember - that blonde prick? The guy who called himself a businessman because he played Rollercoaster Tycoon 5 one time or whatever?” You look at him blankly, and Nathan takes that as a sign to continue sharing. “I played him at squash one time - and he got so pissed off at losing he pulled his pants down and stuck his flat, pasty ass up against the glass. Mooned the entire board. Fucking unreal.”
You’re half-listening, but your brain still hasn’t kicked fully into gear. Still hasn’t quite caught up with the fact Met Gala Nathan is here, in front of you, never mind blathering on about his table mates. Your brain certainly has not caught up by the time Nathan is leaning forward, lifting the lid of your laptop with a knowing smirk. “Let’s see what you were up to while I was gone, huh?”
Oh shit.
Your brain catches up so quickly now that your thoughts cause a pile up, and yet there is no time left to stop him.
You could swear that you almost pass out from embarrassment when Nathan finally flips the lid, his action revealing every one of the tabs you have had open this evening. Naturally, of course -just your luck- the first just had to be the most incriminating, didn’t it? He just had to see your BlueBook image search for “Nathan Bateman Met Gala hot”.
His eyes spark, his gaze electric as he drinks in the screen. He sinks his pearly teeth into his plush lower lip and practically grunts. “Searching for wank fodder of your boss, honey?” He clicks his tongue in what you hope is faux disappointment. “And you didn’t even go Boolean.”
“Heh. Trying to,” you scoff, the response -in your head- forming a suitably scathing comeback, alluding to how you couldn’t even find any hot pictures actually because he’s so gross or whatever. Well, you realise quickly that you messed that one up entirely, especially as a smug, lopsided grin blooms on Nathan’s pretty mouth.
Honestly, you were not far off giving yourself a little treat. If Nathan had been a little later he may even have walked in on it. You cheeks heat with shame, though it’s hardly the first time you’ve had sexual thoughts about him. Not even close. Still, it’s not like you are keen for him to know that.
In haste then -nay, desperation- you reach to slam the lid closed, narrowly missing Nathan’s fingertips in the process as he begins to skim effortlessly through your other tabs.
Then, springing to your feet with a surge of guilt once more, you scoop the laptop up against your chest, like an ailing quarterback cradling a football in the closing minutes of the Superbowl. Damn you and your motor mouth! “I meant… Look, actually, never mind what I meant!” Your voice is growing increasingly high-pitched, and Nathan’s face is becoming increasingly smug. “Why are you here?” you accuse, as if he doesn’t have every right to be. “Why aren’t you at -oh I dunno- The Freaking Met Gala?” You even stomp your foot and jab your finger a little, so help you, in your last ditch attempt to turn the tables. And, certainly, in attempt to deflect before Nathan can probe you any further about that so-called “wank fodder”.
Nathan, for his part, leans back ever so casually and deliberately on the couch, his sturdy thighs spread open and straining against the fabric of his pants, his arms hooking backward over the lip of the couch. The shift makes that crisp white shirt ride up over his stomach, straining the buttons to show you glimpses of his smooth tan skin.
Hnnnggggg.
You feel positively ill with desire at this point, and Nathan, meanwhile, looks effortlessly cool. He even takes a casual swig of his beer. “Meh. Honestly? Was kinda boring. And I couldn’t get the image of the mooning Royce Flat Ass-Coachella out of my head. Put me off my fucking caviar. Also, I thought there might be somebody bang-able there. But who the hell wants to risk losing an eye to some pointy-ass fashion apparatus while you’re going down to beaver town, huh?”
Oh goodness. Poor little rich boy!
All that, and he’s bored. And, on the other hand, what you wouldn’t give to attend the spectacle that is the Met Gala! Your little Museum Nerd heart is positively outraged! “Boring?! Boring, Bateman?! It’s only the most glorious, fabulous institution to exist in modern America!” Highly amused now by your gushing, Nathan stands too. Slowly, and far more calmly than you did, his eyes glowing with a soft, shrouded affection for you, if you’re not mistaken. “Boring, Nathan?!”
“Yeah.” He tightens his lips into a thin line, as though he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he may royally regret as soon as it’s out of his mouth. “Was no fucking fun without you.”
Your eyebrows jump up towards your hairline, your whole torso curling around your still warm and whirring laptop as you tighten it in your arms. You can’t believe the words he’s just spoken. )You especially can’t believe it after all of the hints you’d dropped about wanting to go with him!) Luckily for you though, you’re still having a near out-of-body experience, and so his words fail to register completely. “Boring?! It’s only full of all of the most beautiful, interesting, important people in the country!” you continue, your voice so high and careening now that you’re sure you’re making a mockery of yourself.
Nathan takes a couple of slow, casual steps towards you, still looking at you steadily from beneath his lenses. “Well… almost all of them.”
A swallow bobs down your throat with the unspoken implication, and you dare not follow that thought through to completion.
Then, wordlessly, Nathan shuffles up close to you, and eases the laptop from your grip. He sets it down on the table, and then he turns his gently heating, amused gaze back to you, looking you over in your crumpled sweats.
You swallow, still experiencing cognitive dissonance, Nathan’s words not matching up with what you’ve told yourself for so long - that he could never be interested in you. Instead of acknowledging him then, you instead cling to your futile, part-sensical assertions. “It’s only an unparalleled showcase of the greatest creative costuming of the modern day.” Your argument is losing strength, however. Your voice is breathy and barely there now, as Nathan’s face hovers ever closer to yours.
His voice drops low in his throat, becomes a low, warm rumble which you swear you feel in the pit of your chest. “Maybe. But no-one looked half as cute as you do in these baggy sweats.”
Nope. No way. This isn’t happening.
Your brain is definitely broken now. In fact, all you can do is whimper pathetically as Nathan looks hungrily down at your mouth. Is this some kind of dream? A joke? You have to be sure, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. Before he makes a fool out of you.
“Really. Nathan. What are you doing here?”
Nathan pauses. Pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His face goes taut, brows drawing down. “Well. I went to your apartment first, and you weren’t there.”
“Because I’m here.”
“Yeah. No shit.”
You gulp. You gulp as Nathan reaches up to pick a tiny bit of lint from off of your sweater, the gesture so tiny but humungous. His gaze gently, warmly, flits over your face. “Now I’m here too. Asking you…” He sucks air through his teeth, like he’s about to regret all of his decisions in life, but then… he still says it anyway. For the first time in your memory, Nathan Bateman even looks…bashful. “Do you wanna come to The Met Gala with me?”
Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly for a few moments, in complete and utter shock.
“I know, I know.” Nathan concedes, his eyes blinking closed and his palm waving through the air. “I’m a dumb fuck. You’ve been hinting incessantly. To the point of irritation. Beyond even. You’re not subtle, honey. And my timing is beyond shitty. But… what do you think? Will you be my… date?”
You blink at him. Look at him regretfully. “Nathan. I… I can’t. I…”
He quirks a thick eyebrow. Runs a hand over his buzzed head. “Fuck. Why not?”
You have to laugh. This situation is all so completely absurd. But you look down at yourself, your palms gesturing towards your clothes. “I… don’t have anything to wear.”
Nathan purses his lips then, and nods contemplatively, releasing a long-held breath, perhaps even in relief. “So the clothes thing is the issue? The idea of dating your asshole boss doesn’t bother you?”
You swear his eyes have grown uncharacteristically soft, hopeful even, but of course, your mouth runs off ahead of you to ruin the moment before you can even get there.
“I mean. Nathan. I’d go to the Freaking Met Gala with anyone who was willing to get me in there, honestly. Elon fucking Musk if he asked me. It’s not like I’d be fussy.” Nathan gives you a glare. Curls his tongue around his top lip in mild aggravation. And, there it is. That hand settling on his jutted hip. “Of course. I’m not saying he’d get to any bases. Bleuch. I’d ditch him right after the canapés.” You slide your palm over your face, regretting your motor mouth as Nathan eyes you judgementally over the brim of his frames. Holy shit. Why exactly are you still talking? “Wow. I sure wish someone would shut me the hell up.”
Nathan shifts gently, winding his hands around your waist, his fingers clawing into the soft fabric of your hoody like they belong there on lazy Sunday mornings. “You’re in luck, honey. I’ve been dying to help with that for months now.” His thick eyebrow sweeps up suggestively, and you can’t believe this is happening. You feel giddy. You feel like you’re in some kind of modern fairytale and Nathan is Prince Charming. Or, wait… maybe Prince Crude or something would suit him better.
“Nathan!” You emit a dirty laugh and attempt to bat him in the chest, but in that moment he tugs you closer. And so, your palm simply ends up resting lightly against his chest, your fingertips grazing over the bare brow skin beneath the “V” at his neck. Fuck, he looks hot. Feels warm and smooth. Your knees are barely keeping you up at this point.
What in the actual fuck is happening right now?!
“So, how about it?” Nathan prods, giving the closest thing to puppy dog eyes that you’ve seen from the man, the edge on his usually cool, calculating stare completely blunted - only for you. “Will you come with me?”
You want to say yes. Of course you do. Want to jump at the chance. But this is all so surreal you can barely think straight. Can barely imagine a world where you could be the woman who gets to attend a Gala on Nathan “Gift from God” Bateman’s arm. “You’re impossible, Nathan! I mean. You’re asking me while it’s already happening? This is all kind of crazy!”
“I know. You’re right,” he concedes, drawing back from you and clicking his tongue. Shoving his hands back into his pockets. He does indeed look good from behind, you are delighted to confirm.“Don’t know what I was thinking.”
You fold your arms around yourself, getting whiplash. This is all happening so quickly, and now it might not even be happening at all? “Now, wait a second. Let’s not be so hasty.”
Nathan wafts his hand through the air. “No. You’re right. I’ll call that upper east side boutique you obsess over back. What was the name again? I’ll them they don’t need to open back up after all. Tell them we don’t need a last minute gown.”
Your jaw drops and you audibly gasp. “Nathannnnn!”
He turns back towards you, and you can see the spark of mirth in his eyes. Can detect that he’s teasing you. That this whole thing is still very much on the table, if you want it. “Nathan Bateman. Are you seriously taking me to the Met Gala?” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement any longer.
“So long as you don’t ditch me after the fucking canapés, Princess.”
You subdue a face splitting grin, wanting badly to revel in it - but still not quite sure yet what you’ve done to deserve this. Not even the Gala, the gown, all that. Most importantly, this attention from your long-time crush. The man who, over time, has become so much more than your asshole boss. Your close friend. Someone you could even imagine a future with, so help you.
“I promise not to ditch you, Bateman - at least not until the entrées.” His eyes crinkle again at the corners and it makes you feel ten feet tall. “But… I don’t get it, Bateman.” It is your turn to take two steps towards him now. For your gaze to flit gently, warmly, over his face. Over that groomed, raven beard. His tan skin and his huge, brown, earnest eyes. “Why me?”
Your question seems to take Nathan by surprise. He looks a little more severe all of a sudden. More serious. A weight settles into his heavy brow, yet his eyes remain soft beneath it. “Well, kitten. I was -supposedly- hanging out with the most beautiful, interesting, and important people in the country and…”
“A-And what, Nathan?” You swallow, your heart thrumming and voice trembling at the potential implication of his words. He’s not going to say it though. You already know he isn’t going to say it. That “not one of them had anything on you”.
“And… it sucked ass,” Nathan finishes unceremoniously, in typical fashion. “And not in a good way.”
“S-so, you need me to be there?” You’re not above fishing for your compliments. You cast your line, waiting to see what you can manage to reel in.
Nathan’s brow folds with a newer weight. One which he can’t seem to shake off through smugness or humour or deflection. “Fine. You want me to play my fucking hand, honey? Here it is. Met Gala, Schmet Gala. I got there, and I realised that I…” His voice cracks with the weight of a million tiny revelations, hinted at in his eyes and they way they begin to sparkle. But, he doesn’t say it. Not every revelation he may have had tonight. Still, he does say something. He does say just enough. “I just… I realised that I just needed to be where you were.” Nathan reaches up then, and he lifts your chin with the crook of his finger. “So. We can get you a gown, if you want, and we can hit it up.” His eyes flick towards the TV, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. He offers a second option. “We can stay here and eat ice cream and watch E replay my Nathan’s Ass Broke The Internet red carpet moment all night long.” His eyes turn smug and dark, and a hunger intensifies in them as he looks you up and down again. “Or,” he says, slipping his expensive jacket off of his sculpted form, and passing it carefully around your shoulders. “You can go just like this. Technically, it’s now a Tom Ford ensemble. Would get you through the gate.” You even think he’s serious. You even think he’d have you by his side exactly as you are. That he sees you as beautiful, just like this.
You giggle into your palm. “I’m a mess!”
“No. You look good,” Nathan insists, not a whiff of a lie on him. In fact, as he drinks you in, he looks like he’s melting too. Like he might form a puddle and dribble through the floorboards any moment.
You finally allow a giddy, joyful, disbelieving smile to claim your face, and you reach up to fiddle coquettishly with Nathan’s loosened bow tie. “You look good.”
“Oh, I know, honey. Perfect wank fodder right?” He tips your head, allowing his lips to ghost up the column of your neck. He hums lightly when he reaches your pulse point, his mouth tasting your perfume. “Naughty girl. Gonna make you show me later, huh?” He presses a kiss to your throat. “If you want that,” he adds for good measure, and the addition makes you even hotter for him. He’s far softer and more gentle than you ever would have imagined, treating you like an intricate, delicate thing. You’ve seen his hands be careful as he worked his machines, but you never imagined them quite like this on your own skin. As though you were something magnificent. Special.
You feel another surge of embarrassment at the thought of showing Nathan how much he turns you on, as mental images carousel through your mind. You move to dip your face into Nathan’s chest; however, delicately, seamlessly, he crooks his finger to lift your mouth to his instead, his lips covering yours with a soft, earnest kiss. He hums into it, his tongue tentatively twining with yours as you open up for him.
You blink in disbelief as he breaks for air, your lips still tingling from the contact, your arms now hanging limply by your sides.
“Christ, honey. I’d better not kiss you on the red carpet.”
“And why not?!” On the contrary. You want a lot more where that came from.
“You look like a fucking goldfish. That good, huh?” There his crooked finger is again, gently fixing your slack jaw.
Well that won’t do. And so, with a determined, hungry glint in your eye, you pull Nathan back into your kiss by his lapels, slanting your mouth against him, kissing him deep and hungry. Kissing him until there is a moan spooling from his chest. Until, this time, Nathan is the one who is slack-jawed and dumb-founded when you pull away, his eyes fluttered closed and lips still puckered in search of you.
“You’re right,” you agree, surveying his own goldfish face. “No kissing on the red carpet. You’ll just have to grab my ass instead,” you snicker, and Nathan slowly wafts back down to earth. You could swear he even blushes at the suggestion, a crimson flush deepening the colour of his cheeks.
He strokes his hands up and down your forearms, searching your eyes. “So are we doing this? Because I have about 20 people on standby and ready to go.”
“You do?”
Nathan takes your hands. “Yeah. And I know you won’t wanna miss the exhibition tour, right? You big dork,” he teases with a sweet grin - as if he isn’t the biggest dork you know.
You clap your hands to your cheeks then, the situation suddenly feeling less like a fantasy and growing all too real. You feel a sudden flurry of nerves at the realisation there will be so many eyes on you. “I’m nervous,” you admit.
Nathan sighs, begins to grumble under his breath. “Christ. Don’t make me say it.”
You look at him quizzically.
He sighs again. More deeply this time. His words come out rather reluctantly, but no less full of meaning. “You’re gonna be the most beautiful, interesting, important person in the whole fucking joint. And I should know.”
“Oh yeah, Bateman?”
“Yeah. Got bored of those losers after 5 minutes, but you…?” His eyes twinkle again, with sentiments deeper than his words dare illuminate. You can see him rein it in a little. Backtrack. Keep things Nathan-y. Respond in his typical fashion. “Well. It’s been 9 months now and you’re still here. Clearly, you’re annoying enough to keep things interesting, Princess. Not bad to look at either.”
You chide him playfully with your eyes for the backhander, but despite his words, he’s looking at you with nothing but sweetness. “Besides, you’re gonna look like total wank fodder.”
You laugh. “Okay. True. But can we please retire that phrase? Otherwise I just know you’re gonna say it on E, and your publicist will kill me.”
“Publicist schmublicist,” Nathan breezes, and he pulls you into him for another kiss, a smile cracking beneath his raven beard. “Anyway, honey, you started it.”
You protest, bickering back and forth, exchanging snark as Nathan puts his arm around you and guides you out of the apartment. He leads you out of the lobby to where he has a car waiting, and he opens the door for you to clamber inside. Your belly is full of nerves and excitement, and you eye him with fondness as he calls up the boutique -your favourite, but one you are usually priced out of- to confirm you’re on your way over.
You can’t believe your dream of heading to the Met Gala is coming true. But most of all, you’re elated that Nathan wants you next to him. You’d always believed you weren’t good enough for him, but here he is, eager to show you off to the whole world. To have fun with you and enjoy your company.
It’s funny, you think. He wasn’t meant to be here tonight, and nor were you. But somehow, you think, you each ended up exactly where you were supposed to be.
Nathan hangs up his call and turns to you. “You okay?” He smooths a hand up your thigh and you nod, still smiling softly. “What kind of outfit do you want? It’s on me.”
Your eyes glint with mischief. “Nothing pointy.” Nathan takes a moment to catch your drift. “I don’t wanna put your eye out when you visit beaver town later, do I?”
You think you’d like something simple actually. Something to match Nathan. He may be a complicated man, but in many ways he’s so entirely straightforward. It’s one of the many things you like about him.
For a moment, Nathan looks lost for words, a swallow sinking down his throat. You can tell he’s already eager to follow that plan through to completion. “Please. Honey. Tell me we can we skip the after party?” He looks like he can’t wait for what you’re suggesting.
“How long is this ride?” you ask, arcing an eyebrow suggestively.
“What are you saying?”
“So you reckon you’ve got time to get a whole four bases further than Elon ever could?”
Nathan’s eyes glow with something bright and inexplicable. “You’re fucking unreal.”
“Oh, Nathan,” you purr, as he slides up the divider in the front, giving you some privacy. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
291 notes · View notes
weatheredleatherhat · 3 years ago
Note
Have a Karl request in mind. Reader’s Karl’s ex and first love, who returns to the village yesrs after leaving. They broke up cause Karl was too busy with work to give the reader the love they needed, so the reader left. Karl’s still hung up on the reader, even years after the breakup and wants to fix things but is scared of being rejected. Now, Karl’s his usual self until he’s told his ex is back in town, getting nervous and quiet. He fixes himself up in case he were to bump into the Reader at any point. He practices his apologies in the empty church, and it gets the Lords tired of his moping. They make a plan to have the unsuspecting reader to go to the church while Karl’s alone, but Karl stops talking after hearing the reader’s voice. He relives all their moments in the relationship, and ends up having a breakdown before he can even apologize. They talk, being fully honest with each other and they give things a second try.
((Hey anon! This one is so sweet and pure aaaa <3 So I changed it a little, since in my head, ain’t nobody leaving that damn village, so instead they went to the most opposite side of the border to work there, as well as the Lords probably not giving too much of a shit about Heis to want him happy. Gives it that little extra angst because so close, yet so far while being utterly alone with it, y’know? Anyway, first bit of writing for a little while; hope it’s okay for you!! And thank you for being so damn patient! Y’all deserve a medal lmao <3))
Three winters since his Buttercup left a note on his pillow, declaring that they were leaving him. From what little he read, they’d cited his constant work and the neglect from his end to the relationship to be a deciding factor. Though he’d only read it once, he could still see the last sentence so clearly.
I’m sorry, but I have to do this. Please don’t come looking for me.
Of course, he’d ignored it, and had found them working at Otto’s saw mill on the opposite side of the village. At first, he was going to confront them. Beg for forgiveness, plead for their return. Fuck, he’d carry them back kicking and screaming if it came to it. But seeing how broken they looked as they carried lumber to the piles just outside, knowing that he’d caused that shattered look in their eyes… He couldn’t face them. For all his bravado and arrogance, underneath it all he felt like a lost little boy again, desperate for love and approval that he knew he’d probably never get. He’d fucked up, and no matter how much he tried to fix it, it’d never be the same again. Like a shattered mirror glued back together; cracks still visible and reflecting his failures back at him.
And so he’d left them to their new life. With no idea if he’d ever see them again.
He’d remembered the day he last saw them three winters ago like it was yesterday. It was all that he could think about, since the anniversary of it was only a few years ago. Normally, he would be in his living quarters back at the factory, chain smoking cigars and drinking himself into the closest to a stupor that he could get. But no, Miranda just had to have another fucking meeting about some bullshit he didn’t even care about.
“Honestly, I don’t see what the issue is.” Alcina’s voice was normally grating, but right now it was nigh on insufferable. It took biting down hard on the end of his cigar to keep from telling her to stick her opinions right up her fat ass. As he looked over towards her seat, he could see the sneer that pulled her lip upwards, eyes narrowed, directed right towards him. A look of pure frustration, and it made him a little smug to know he’d caused it.
“What issue?” he drawled, stoking the flames of her ire even further once he admitted that he wasn’t even paying attention to her.
“About increasing the security around the perimeter of your factory, you damned idiot!” she fired back, now sitting forward in her seat and pointing the lit end of her cigarette holder at him. “If you remember correctly, it was about this time a few years ago your little pet escaped, was it not?”
Flames of rage ignited in his chest at the mention of his lost love. Alcina had found out one way or another, probably from one of her little snitching maids. But ever since she had caught wind of it, occasionally when she needed the upper hand in an argument, the fact that he’d been dumped would be thrown back in his face. At first, he was petrified that Miranda would ask questions. But being the favourite son had it’s perks, though he was loathed to admit it. Truth was, he could have a fucking harem of villagers in his factory and she wouldn’t give much of a shit, as long as research still got done. One villager wasn’t much of a concern to her. But still, he worried for their safety. Yet another reason why he hadn’t talked to them for so long. As long as he acted like it was a fling, that joke of a ‘mother’ would probably keep her beaked nose out of his affairs.
“Watch your fucking tongue,” he snarled in a low tone, teeth exposed behind thin lips as the metalwork in the abandoned church began to vibrate. “Best not speak about affairs you don’t know about, dear sister. Before your own dirty laundry gets aired.”
He’d spoken the word ‘sister’ with as much derision as he could muster. Of course he knew about her dirty little secrets. He’d had her castle bugged years ago to get it. But he wanted to keep the cards he had close for now. Just the threat was usually enough to get her off his ass. And for now, it seemed to work. Though she tried to hide it, a quick flash of anxiety shot through her features, though she covered it up well. Yeah, worked like a charm.
Alcina tried to speak, though it was Miranda who cut her off.
“Enough, my children,” came her voice from his right, silencing Alcina’s tongue before she could utter a single syllable. “Heisenberg, I want you to check your fences as soon as you can. I don’t want to hear of an escape. Is that understood?”
Though she had a calmness to her voice, almost a motherly tone when she spoke to him, he could see right through it. And the fact that he had to stomach her bullshit and pretend to drink the Kool-Aid still made his stomach turn. Tipping his hat towards her, he bowed his head in a sign of respect that he fought to feign.
“Yes, Mother Miranda,” he answered, keeping his voice neutral. God, how he hated her.
“Then it’s settled. Unless there is no other business, I call this meeting adjourned.”
With a flurry of black feathers, her figure disappeared, leaving nothing in her wake but the wails of Moreau as he mourned the loss of his Mother for another month. Crushing the remnant of his cigar under his heel, he lit another one as he waited for his false siblings and lycans alike to disappear, leaving him alone in the silence and the closest to serenity he could find in his surroundings of the church. The way that the snowfalls came in through the hole in the roof, leaving a small mound by the steps of the altar. How quiet it was, when usually he was constantly surrounded by the grindings of machinery. It was the only place that he could truly let himself think about things other than work and the charade of pretending to be the perfect, submissive son.
Where he could think of his Buttercup.
What would he even say to them? It had been too long to try and talk to them, surely. Maybe they thought that he just didn’t care. By God, he wish he didn’t care. How much heartbreak he could save, if it was only a one night stand. Perhaps then, he could stop his hand trying to feel for them on their side of the bed when he was half asleep. Perhaps then, he could finally throw away their things that were still in the same place as the day they left, just in case they’d come back and need them. Perhaps then, he would stop feeling the urge to break down whenever he thought of their smile, and how it would take over their whole face in a glow whenever they were happy.
What would he even say?
“I’m so sorry, Buttercup.” He didn’t realise he’d said it aloud at first. It shocked him into silence for a few moments. But he realised that there was a sort of power, releasing all he held in. Maybe the liquor from his flask was getting to him, but he didn’t care. He needed more release. He needed to say the words.
“I should have come looking for you again.”
There it was. More feelings of a slight content, that he ached to have more of. A slight knocking sound pulled him straight out of the trance-like state he was in, making him focus on whatever it was. It sounded like something metallic being nudged by a foot, once he thought for a second about it, and feeling out with his powers yielded the faint electrical pulse of heartbeat, growing faster and faster as he stood up to look towards the intrusion. Though he couldn’t control humans, he could certainly sense them. And he could control his hammer, which he called into his grasp and held above his head, ready to smite whoever dared come into this church.
“I can hear you,” he called out, making sure to drip venom in his voice as he said it. “Show yourself.”
He could only make out a figure in the shadows, at first. Smaller than him, and quivering. The form took a few tentative steps into the light, causing all thoughts he had to come to a jarring halt once he saw the eyes that were all too familiar come into view.
The eyes that he dreamed about. The eyes he yearned for, now brimming with tears and so full of hurt.
He heard his name being called. Not his surname, like was so used to hearing. But his first name. Karl. The name that was only ever uttered by one person alive, and the person that his heart ached to hear speak again. Hammer dropped to the floor, he took in the sight of his Buttercup, now they were clear in the candlelight. Their clothes were more tattered than he had previously seen, probably thanks to hard work at the mill. They were looking a little more gaunt and pallid than the last time he’d seen them; the same complexion as other villagers. Nothing a few good meals and some love and care couldn’t fix.
The next sound that rang in his ears was the loud crash of his hammer as it dropped from his grasp, smashing the floor upon impact. He tried to speak, to say how sorry he was, but so many memories flashed before his eyes, rendering him unable to say the words. When he would pick them up and spin them around when they were least expecting him to, causing them to erupt into giggles that was like a balm to his broken heart. Slow dancing with them in the kitchen as they waited for dinner to cook, him quietly crooning the words into their ear. The little blush that would spread across their nose and cheeks in the cold weather on their walks, holding hands so he could catch them when they inevitably slipped on the eyes. Inconsequential fragments of time that culminated into a storybook of adoration and hope for the future.
Fragments of time that finally burst the dam of indifference that he’d so strongly built around his heart to keep in the strong emotions of regret and grief.
His Buttercup rushed towards him, throwing their arms around his neck and holding on tight as he felt their thumb brush against the nap of his neck; a soothing motion that God, he’d missed so much. His arms coiled around them, holding them in a crushing embrace due to the fear that none of this was actually real. That they’d disappear in a cloud of black smoke. But no, they still smelled just like he remembered, underneath the scent of sawdust and hearth smoke. They still had a familiar warmth, and they still fit perfectly in his embrace.
“Did you mean it?” they asked in a whisper, right by his ear.
“Mean what?” was his reply, punctuated with kisses to their temple as he filled his lungs with their scent.
“That you were sorry… That you wanted to come looking for me.”
He couldn’t help his small laugh as he held them that little bit tighter, resting his forehead on the crown of their head. “Buttercup, I meant every word. I’d come looking for you at the ends of the Earth if I needed to.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and he tried to clear his throat as he forced away his tears.
The comforting silence eventually broke as they hiccupped a sob into his chest. “I’m sorry too. For leaving. I… I couldn’t…”
He shushed them gently, lifting his head and bringing a hand under their chin to tilt their head back to look at him. He smiled softly at them over his shades, a gloved thumb running under their eye to sweep away the tears. “None of that,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the tip of their nose. “Time for that later. Let me bring you home, okay? I can get you a hot meal and a bath. We can talk later.”
A small laugh escaped their lips, and the smile that he yearned to see took over their features. “You saying I stink?” they asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyes shimmering.
“Only a little,” he chuckled, stroking the backs of his fingers against their cheek. “So what d’ya say? Come home?”
Their features creased with thought for a few seconds, causing his heart to stop beating for that duration. Finally, they nodded, and he could breathe again.
“Sure. I’ll stay for the night.”
That was enough for him. Finally letting them go, he took their hand in his as they started to make their way back to the factory. He knew that hard conversations would have to be held. He’d have to really work at this relationship, to make sure that mistakes that he made wouldn’t happen again. But it was workable. He could fix this.
He needed to.
107 notes · View notes
rinzis · 4 years ago
Text
what your favourite genshin impact character says about you: no holding back edition
i’m finally allowed to post again!!! great joy
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aether/lumine: you’re basic as hell sorry . also stop fighting over who the better twin is they’re literally the same person but different genders. you’re pretty fun to be around ig but i feel like you eat food off the floor. 5 second rule not 5 hour rule ok
amber: ok i’ve actually met a bunch of people whose fav is amber and you guys are actually really sweet but pls learn when to stfu you’re so loud . also you guys go feral whenever someone (everyone else in the fandom) says amber sucks like chill bae
kaeya: jesus fucking christ your horny is off the scale. every kaeya stan i’ve ever met cant keep it in their pants. and we know the only reason you like him is bc of his giga bouncer supreme ultra man rack 3000. stop saying you want him to smother you with his tits. get some help.
lisa: YOU GUYS ARE COOL AS HELL!!!!!! as someone who relates to lisa you’re very cool. most chill people to be around and you’re definitely super smart. not lazy but just reserved. 11/10. oh btw do you use her for climbing?
diluc: do you have daddy issues? you guys definitely have a thing for the tsundere archetype and you probably like zhongli too. just admit you want diluc to do the kabedon thing on you and move on. we know what you’re like. also how does it feel being so short? i swear every diluc stan is small as hell
jean: YOU GUYS are so sweet pls whenever i play co op with a jean main it’s just like wow you’re so strong and nice and thanks for healing my entire team wow........ however although you’re so responsible you probably enjoy cancelling people on twitter for fun . sorry
venti: VENTI STANS. I LOVE YOU. is it partially because i myself am a huge venti stan? yeah no. you probably missed out on his first banner and are saving for his rerun..... same......... anyways you guys give off the best vibes n it’s always so fun to be with you. i love you all
razor: i have one question for you guys . did you either like warrior cats or were you a wolf kid?
albedo: you guys are so smart wtf !!!!!!!!! you’re so rational in co op mode too and if you have albedo you probably use him as a sub dps for your teammates bc you’re so good at reading situations........ then again you also have some weird shit going on like cmon it’s milk after cereal you psychopaths
sucrose: you either kin sucrose or are creepy sorry . ok but she’s so underrated like her passive 3........ WOAH.............. you definitely use her in spiral abyss,,, also are you a burnout successful kid who used to kiss teachers’ asses and middle school was a breeze before getting to college/university and realising that professors don’t give a shit anymore? wow who would have guessed
diona: wannabe catgirls assemble! please move on from your warrior cats phase you’re almost as bad as the razor stans but you’re adorable too. you probably want qiqi or klee but don’t have them so you’re settling for diona
barbara: thanks for healing my team in co op barbara stans !!!! you guys are genuinely so nice omg thank you for being so reliable all the time,,, do you highlight your notes so it’s more art than notes? yeah that’s what i thought
mona: ok if no one else is gonna say it i will,,, no one understands shit about your astrology thing going on. i’m a caprisun? great
bennett: YOURE ALL ADORABLE. thanks for helping us out in co op!!!! you definitely advocate for bennett rights and yes pls do,,,, we all love benny deep down!!!! you either don’t have him or have him at like C218372
fischl: jojo stans
just kidding but you all probably act like fischl irl. also did you have an emo phase
klee: ok if your favourite is klee you definitely don’t have her . waiting patiently for klee’s rerun!!!! shes just so adorable and so are you guys,,,,, so fun to be around !!!!! you probably have diluc and hate him
noelle: you guys....... the rarest of the rare. you love trying to convince people that she’s a great healer dps n everything else...... no bae you probably use her because you like geo and claymores like hmm yes i will now hit things hard with my big sword and rock power
ok onto liyue now sweats nervously
childe: you guys are ALL simps. ALL OF YOU. go n touch some grass bro!!!!! you either think he’s super sexy or you bully him and make the ed sheeran jokes (not funny) . you follow griffin burns on tiktok too dont you
zhongli: you either love him for his gentle demeanour or you want him for his fat giga dumptruck 3000. make up your minds!!!!! you guys are so clueless in co op mode but you’re hilarious. you probably have his energy recharge at like 200% so you can use his ult and hear I WILL HAVE ORDER every 4 seconds
xiao: STOP GROWLING AT PEOPLE. every xiao main is so aggressive not joking . yeah the only reason you saved for him is because you want to stare at him all day n listen to him growling . you guys genuinely scare me . no he would not hold ur hand and do cute things with you,,,,,, if given half the chance he’d probably decapitate you
ningguang: alright jeff bezos, hand over the cash. yeah so you’re either rolling in it or want to be her sugar baby. but you guys have such an intimidating aura like playing with ning mains is just .... you always build her so well she’s an absolute tank!!!!!! thanks for scaring the shit out of me but also protecting me
beidou: YOU GUYS. you’re fun to be around but i also feel like you could probably destroy me in 3 seconds flat !!!!!!!! do you hate diluc too? i love playing with you guys because all i hear is TO ASHES every 2 seconds and she’s just cool as hell so yeah i really like beidou stans. i feel like you all have her so congrats
qiqi: you’re so cute,,,,, best healer !!!! you probably love playing qiqi because her skills look so cool and you prefer playing heal/support,, if you don’t have her you just love her bc she’s so tiny . spoiler alert but do you have a thing against xiao for killing her lol
xiangling: you’re so chaotic help,, you definitely pair her with xinyan too because you give off the most uncontrollable vibes,,,,,,, did you level her to use her in the spiral abyss or do you just think polearms are neat and don’t have xiao or zhongli
xinyan: please reread xiangling paragraph but replace polearm with claymore . you like either bring me the horizon or bubblegum pop there’s no in between
chongyun: you’re all the nicest people ever and you’re so chill . you love chongyun with your whole hearts and i adore you !!!!!! the animation of him eating the popsicle melts your hearts (no pun intended) and you just think he’s really cool :( ily all
xingqiu: chongyun vibes but make it kinda unnerved . burnout successful kids 2.0 ,,,,, are you clever too? you also love xingqiu and believe he’s worthy of being a 5 star with his heal and damage reduce !!!!! he’s so helpful wtf and so are you . please stop going on about his legs though it’s highkey weird asf
keqing: COOL PERSON SYNDROME! i main this gal so i love you all . do you get as mad as i do when people say she doesn’t deserve to be a 5 star? yeah . are you a procrastinator and try and take lessons from keqing but are just so lazy? do you use her teleport because you can’t be bothered to climb mountains? yeah that’s what i thought
ganyu: you’re all the nicest people alive and i adore you all . thanks for being so kind in co op mode . every ganyu main i’ve met is so sweet and you’re all so powerful too woah....... you hate the cocogoat jokes too >:( pls mihoyo give her more attention !!!!!
scaramouche: you have rights guys we know you exist. also we know you want him to be playable. we know that you think his hat is neat. we know you love this shawty but please be quiet.
signora: wait you guys exist
hu tao: you prank people for fun like pls stop im so on edge when youre around . plus i feel you laugh at videos of babies falling over n shit,,,,,,, you cant wait for her banner but also please shut the fuck up
dainsleif: please leave me the fuck alone we did 1 (one) quest with him and you’re all obsessed with him . ok second hand dmitri from fire emblem you want a medal for being a fucking simp?
632 notes · View notes
axwalker · 3 years ago
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CREEP 4: I wish I was special
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Pairing: Drake Walker x MC  (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR
MASTERLIST
Synopsis: Drake is a hurt, angry teenager. After being rejected by Lexie, he spends two years bullying her until he discovers the horrible truth behind her rejection.
In this chapter: Lexie and Drake spend a lot of time together. I’ve have to be honest this is a filler chapter with a bit a lot of smut 🤷🏽‍♀️
A/N: Drake’s and Lexie’s POV. 
Words: 4,470
WARNINGS: SMUT! Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love, abuse, bullying.
THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express love.
This is a dark love story. If you think this might trigger you, PLEASE do not read it.  
ALL MY FICS ARE 18+
TAGS ON THE COMMENTS –As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapters. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic; please do not hesitate to ask!!
Drake 
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m holding Lexie in my arms, and this is happening. 
Damn. She tastes even better than I imagined. Soft lips, the flavor of cherries and mint and something singularly Lexie. So, fucking sweet. Her innocent tongue is hesitant at first to play with mine, making her surrender even more satisfying. She’s been the center of my world for years. She’s everything I crave, and I didn’t know how to handle the rejection of the only person who matters to me. I know that’s not an excuse; I know that I don’t fucking deserve her. Hell, if I were a better man, a man that wasn’t starving for her, I’d live her alone.  
She makes me stumble into the bed- when her thighs tighten around me, and she allows me inside her perfect little mouth with hot strokes of my tongue, my hands aching over the softness of her hair, her cheeks, absorbing her unique textures with my palms. 
Get yourself out of my system. My heart has just awakened again, and it breaks painfully; when I think about her words, I make a pitiful sound into the kiss. Ah God. The best night of my life could be the night Lexie cuts me off for good, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening. She’s attracted to me, but I’ve hurt her too badly to contemplate a future. A man with more self-control, maybe an older one, might stop this now. Demand to talk, to explain to her I’ve loved her for so long and so fucking deep that I can’t see straight. That I let my insecurity act on my name. But right now, I can do nothing but soak up every inch, take as much as I can before she wants me gone. I let her mouth go momentarily, kissing down her jawline to her neck, trying to memorize exactly how she smells, how she tastes in every single part of her. How she sounds when she moans brokenly when she shifts her pussy against my lap. Then does it again. 
“Feels good,” she whispers, her voice barely loud enough to hear above the storm. “Drake.” 
I want to give her a first time she’ll think about every hour for the rest of her life, but I’m… I’m quickly recognizing my inexperience. I’m not as practiced at sex as she thinks. Only one girl before I met her. After seeing those deep brown eyes, no one else would do it for me. But I have been fucking starving for it for years. With this girl. So when she rubs against my cock and whispers, “feels good,” I almost come against in my jeans. 
I have to force myself not to grip her butt cheeks and grind her down while I thrust up, giving myself enough friction to finish. Christ, don’t finish. Please. I’ve been blessed with an opportunity I don’t deserve. A night with Lexie. A chance to make her first time perfect—and that’s what I’m going to do, even if it kills me. 
A thunder rumbles in the sky outside as she makes urgent, breathy noises, her fingers grabbing my T-shirt. She strips it off over my head, her palms slowly brushing the shape of my chest up to my arms, leaning in to kiss the hollow of my throat, the underside of my chin. Heat burns me from the inside, growing hotter with every touch of those lips on my body—and no, no, no, I can never live without her. I’ll fade and die without her touch. Get into her system, not out of it. Get deeper. So deep she can’t take me out. As deep as she is inside me. I know she’ll never love me as I do her, but I need her anyway. With those directions clear and loud in the back of my head, I move toward the bed and drop down to my knees, gently laying Lexie on her back, kissing her incredible mouth while my fingers fumble with the button and zipper of her jeans. I’m touching Lexie’s pussy through denim, and again, I want her so fucking badly, I’m worried I’m going to ruin everything, but I grit my teeth and start to slide the jeans down her legs. As soon as the soft, soft flesh of her thighs is revealed, I tilt my face up and shut my eyes closed. God, oh God. 
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, lifting her hips so I can remove the pants. “You’re so beautiful; I’m trying not to come just looking at you,” I groan, tossing her jeans aside, taking several deep breaths to get myself under control, before giving in to the overwhelming temptation to see Lexie in panties. No amount of imagination could have done her justice. The shy inward turn of her left knee, the light blue panties that rapidly become see-through, thanks to how wet she is. The slit of her sex. My senses are overloaded, my breathing uneven.
Then she blushes and bites her lip, and I understand that she’s as nervous as I am. Probably more. Fuck, this is not about me. This is about the beautiful, sweet girl underneath me. I take a moment to look at her face; her eyes are shining, her cheeks pink, her mouth is swollen from being kissed. I’m an eighteen-year-old man who –for three years, has only climaxed from jerking off, and because of that, my instinct now is to take my cock out and come all over the goddess in front of me. I’ll come so hard. All over her. But this is more than sex. I’m being allowed sex with the girl of my dreams. My dick is in disbelief, painfully hard and dripping with pre-come in my boxers, begging to come inside of her, instead of out. And Lexie…her eyes are locked on it in wonder, lips in an O shape. I’m going to be looking at that beautiful face when she takes my cock inside of her, feeling me move, stealing her innocence. Jesus. How am I going to last? 
“Lexie,” I groan through my teeth, trying to explain with that single word how fucking horny she makes me. She’s still staring at the bulge in my jeans. 
“Am I…should I…” I’ve never heard her with that husky tone of voice before. “Does it go in my mouth first?” 
I shudder so hard, my jaw almost breaks. “Christ, don’t say that, baby. Fuck.” I’m a beast right now, ripping down my zipper and shoving my hand inside, beating off the raw length of my dick, my eyes traveling from her face, to her tits, to her pussy. Then circling back and starting at the beginning,  telling her how fucking gorgeous she is. A fucking goddess. And Lexie seems to sense my desperation and overcome her shyness because she takes down her panties and kicks them away, baring herself to me. Ironically, when I should ultimately explode because the vision she creates is such perfection, I’m determined with purpose instead. With responsibility. As soon as her pussy is out, all I can think about is tasting it, giving her an orgasm and my own sexual pain takes an immediate back seat, my jerking hand slowing in the lap of my jeans. The sight of Lexie’s body hypnotizes me. 
“Can I touch you?” She nods shyly but eagerly, holding her breath. I hold mine, too, my palms gently grazing up her inner thighs and pushing them apart, spreading the pink slit between her legs, revealing the secrets I need to learn or I’ll die unsatisfied. “Tell me when I do something that feels good.” 
Slowly, I trace a thumb down the split of her pussy and her back arches, her gasp is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “There,” I say in a rush, finally exhaling, tracing the edges of the nub that made her eyes roll back in her head. “Can I lick you here, baby?” Her hands fly to the mattress, fingers digging into the blanket. 
“Yes.” 
Fuck. I get to give her head. I’m down on my stomach in a heartbeat, rubbing my nose through her slick folds, inhaling Lexie, something peachy, gently dragging my tongue side to side over that little button. The sight of it makes my cock pound, my tongue licking toward it automatically, on reflex…and Lexie loses her fucking mind. A sexy sound fills my ears, her fingers sinking into my hair, pulling me closer. It’s like winning a gold medal at the Olympics. Knowing I found the exact spot that could get that reaction out of my girl has almost made me come right then. My tongue is worshipping her until I’m devouring her, doubting between French kissing her wet little pussy and teasing that perfect spot, her cries making the sweetest music in my ears. 
“Drake. Drake. Don’t stop. Don’t. Please, please, please.”
 When she comes, I swear to God, the taste of her is so sweet, so incredible, I go a little insane.
“I-I’m ready, Drake. Please.”
Despite how fucking bad I want her, I must make sure she wants this. I take a deep breath to calm my fucking dick, then I bend down to kiss her cute little nose and ask her, “Are you sure about this?”
She nods “Yes. God, yes.” 
“I don’t have a condom. I don’t—” 
“I’m on the pill. I went to the doctor myself to regulate my periods. Are you --uhm clean?” 
I’ve only been with one girl three years ago, and we were safe. “I am.” 
“Then I’m sure, Drake. Please, I want you so badly.” 
With a choked sound, I take hold of my cock and press it to her center, my life flashing in front of my eyes when I slide in a single inch and her wet pussy clenches around me like a fist. “Oh. Fuck.” I drop my face into her neck, raking my teeth against it, my hips burning with the need to thrust. Claim. Pound her into the ground.
“Are you okay, baby?” Fuck, her eyes are shut, a painful expression in her innocent face.
“I just need a moment, Drake.”
“I’ll give you anything you need, baby.” I don’t need to think about anything to distract myself. The mere fact of knowing she’s hurting is more than enough to sober me up. I cage her head in my arms and kiss her softly. I look her in the eyes, and there’s something in her eyes I’ve never seen before. Trust. 
 “I lied to you, Lexie. I’ve only been with one person like this. But that was before you. Since then, I’ve never wanted to touch anyone but you. Never been hard for anything but this…” I feel her adjusting to me, so I force in another inch. It feels better than I could’ve ever imagined. “This sweet little pussy.” I search Lexie’s flushed face and find her looking at me in wonder, surprise. 
“You…waited for me.” she whispers. 
My nod is jerky, teeth clenched. “You really haven’t figured it out yet? You can’t tell I’m obsessed with you?” I drop hard kisses all over her face, her hair, her neck. “You can’t tell I would murder, lie and steal just to have you look at me?” Her breath comes in tight pants, brown eyes glazed. 
 “I need more. You’ve been hiding from me for two years, acting like someone else. But this…this is honest. I-I want to feel it.” 
“Soon. Soon. Just let me get myself under control.” 
“Please, Drake.” Her expression is enthralled, imploring. “Fall apart.” 
I “Lexie, please. I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I want to make it perfect for you.” 
She gives me one of those smiles I craved so much, and catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she reaches down and sinks her fingernails into my ass, yanking me close and impaling herself on my rigid cock. Fuck, I want to be gentle with her, I need to but damn if she’s not making it difficult. I bury myself to the hilt, and she gasps 
 “Hurts,” she says. “You’re too big. It’s too big.” 
“What?” I struggle for awareness, my eyes unfocused as I search her face. 
“Too big…” “It hurts.” Horror hits me. I’m hurting Lexie. My Lexie. Fuck no. “No, I’ll stop.” 
“No.” She tightens her legs around my hips. “Just go slow.” 
I kiss her front. “I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” My eyes focus on her pretty face. She’s so perfectly delicate. “You’re sure, baby?”
“Yes.” She kisses my mouth to reassure me, and I groan, melting at her touch, gently rolling in and out of her. It’s a painful effort to keep the slow pace, but I want her to enjoy this. I stop for a few seconds, and I search her face. If she’s still in pain, I’ll pull out of her no matter what she says. But her lips are parted, and she seems to be getting there with me, so I continue to thrust, rhythmic and measured, our eyes hot on one another.  Her tight little pussy is making me insane. 
 “You’ve been driving me crazy,” I growl, kissing her neck. “The smell of you in class. The shape of your neck and hips and that perfect hair moving in front of me. Perfect, so perfect, so mine. And you wouldn’t even give me your eyes. It broke me. But you’ve always been mine, no matter what, huh? Nothing can change that.” I lick her neck, her throat, her mouth. I move a little faster and she cries of pleasure. “Be mine, Lexie.” 
I put my hand between us and touched her at the same spot I did when I kissed her sex. Her reaction is immediate. 
“Oh god, Drake. Just there. This is—God.”
She cries one last time, and I can feel her pleasure squeezing my cock as she comes.
An invisible string is cut when I’m finally down the other side of my peak, my heaving body collapsing on top of Lexie’s. “Lexie?” I kiss her forehead, her cheeks. “I’m… God. Are you okay?” 
Her nod gets my blood running again. 
“It finally happened,” I say, almost hoping she didn’t hear me.
“What did?”
“My fantasy came true.”
The smile she gives me is almost shy. And somehow, that’s the best part of our perfect night. 
 Lexie 
Over the years, my mother’s voice has started to fade from my head, but I can remember her saying, “Santo Dios,” when something interested her. Or made her sit up and take notice. And watching the muscles of Drake’s back move in the darkness, I mouth those words to myself. Santo Dios. After we… After what happened … I don’t know what to call what we did. I’m scared to call it “making love.” “Sex” sounds too shallow for something so intense. “Fucking” sounds too crude, too impersonal, when what passed between us couldn’t have been more personal. 
All this time, I pictured Drake meeting girls on the weekends, forgetting all about me in a quest for momentary bliss. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’s been…he waited. He waited for me. When making that confession, the raw honesty in his eyes left absolutely no doubt that he…feels something for me. Quite a lot, if I can believe what a man says in the heat of the moment. None of what Drake said felt like bullshit, though. Or a man telling a woman what she wants to hear. It was as if he’d been holding it in and pleasure broke the dam of secrets, making his walls collapsed all around me.  Leaving me with the ruins of all this new knowledge. 
I sit on the back porch of the cabin, arms wrapped around my knees, watching Drake connect the generator so we can have light. Thanks to the storm, the electricity isn’t working. Now, shirtless, he works on his knees in front of the machine, a frown of focus between his dark brows. Every minute or so, he stops working to glance over at me, his throat bobbing, his eyes watchful and hungry, the outline of his erection back to pressing against the front of his jeans. My newfound feminine vibrates, demands attention. I was too tired to put my pants back on, so I’m dressed in panties and a T-shirt. My lack of clothing feels forbidden, as does being alone at a cabin with a boy. For the whole night. And I don’t know what to do about the desire he’s fueled inside of me. I don’t know what to do with the excitement of knowing we’re both new –or almost, at exploring the bodies of the opposite sex…and all the ways we could do it now. Inside the cabin. Alone. No one to hear us, judge us, see us. No getting in trouble. Nothing holding us back. Except for what he did to me for two bitterly long years. Except for the fact that I need to get far away from here, from my father, and it won’t do me any  good to get attached to this magnetic boy.
There can only be one night. I need to make a fresh start. I need to cut myself clean off from everything that has made me feel sad and broken in the past—and whether my heart likes it or not, Drake Walker is one of those things. 
He’s looking at me right now like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And it’s that kind of intuition he seems to have about me that is going to get me into trouble. Going to make me second-guess my determination to leave him here along with everyone and everything else I’ve grown up with. 
Drake sets down the tool in his hand and flips a switch, lighting up the porch. “Looks like it’s working.” 
“Yeah.” 
He sends me a tight smile. “They don’t call me a handyman for nothing.” It occurs to me in that moment that I don’t know a lot about Drake’s private life. I know he lives in a trailer on the other side of town. And the horrible story he told me about his family, but not much more. 
 I want to escape this place. Does he? “Are you…planning on hanging around Portavira after graduation?” 
His movements pause ever so slightly, but I catch it. “Hadn’t thought too much about it.” 
“Really?” 
“No,” he sighs. “That’s a lie.” Kneeling in front of the toolbox, his jaw tightens, his gaze eventually making its way back to me. “And I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Lexie.” 
“Then don’t,” I say quickly, holding my breath. 
“I know you want to go to college and make something of yourself, but that -that’s not an option for me. I’m just going to stay here trying to fix this old house and honor my dad’s memory.”
He evades my gaze, and the reason why is painfully obvious. “You have nothing, nothing to be ashamed about, Drake. What you’re doing with this cabin is amazing; if this is what you want to do, you should”.
Even in the muted moonlight, I can see the reddening of his cheekbones. “Believe me, for the rest of my life, I’m going to hate myself for how I treated you. I thought…” 
“What?” 
He shakes his head, but answers anyway. “That night at your house, I thought when you found out I what I did for a living, that I was there to repair your roof…you remembered I wasn’t good enough for you. That you looked down on me. I thought you were ignoring me all this time because you regretted everything that happened, everything you said. You had a momentary lapse of judgement and went back onto your pedestal, out of reach of my filthy hands. It hurt to think I disgusted you. It hurt and I took it out on you.” At the end of his explanation, my mouth is hanging open. No wonder he was so mad, lashing out all the time. He thought I was ignoring him because I thought myself better. Above him. For a prideful person like Drake, being ignored because of his status would have stung worse than anything else. 
“Why are you only telling me this now?” 
“Because it sounds like an excuse—and I’m not making one. Ever.” 
“I didn’t think I was better than you. I missed you.” That strong chest of his starts to rise and fall quickly, his gaze penetrating me through the darkness. “I know that sounds silly. It was just one night.” 
“No. I missed you, too.” He takes a step in my direction. “Still do.” His eyes close and he releases a bumpy breath. “Brutally, baby. I’ve never stopped wanting—fuck-craving you like a madman. It just killed me to see how you were so gentle and kind to everyone but me. Even before I started -bullying you.” 
Nerve tingle everywhere on my body, the need to touch and be touched by Drake increasing the temperature of my skin rapidly, making my breasts feel full, my legs weak. I’ve never tried drugs, but I understand now what addiction must be like. Fighting a pull, battling a self-destructive urge, promises an incredible high before the inevitable downward spiral. If I give him the slightest encouragement, he’s going to bring me inside and…be with me again. 
Is that what I want? Yes. 
Will giving in to my physical urges make it much harder when I have to leave town for good? Yes. Yes. 
There isn’t anything casual about Drake and me. And how can I begin to rebuild my pride, my life, if my first act of independence is giving my body to the person who made me cry so many times since sophomore year, I’ve lost count? I search for a way to change the subject. To take the focus off the connection dragging us back together. 
“Well.” I dampen my lips. “I don’t think I’ll go to college anymore. My father hid all my acceptance letters. He was never really going to let me go.” I intertwine my fingers together and tighten them until they leach of color. “Tonight, was the first time I ever spoke back to him. I was just so angry.” Several beats pass. 
“Of course, you were.” He drops down onto the back porch, a couple of feet to my right, staring out into the trees. “Hell, Lexie. I’m sorry he did that.” 
I nod. “I did a lot of thinking on the back of your bike. It’s good for that. Thinking. Isn’t it?” 
“Yeah. When you don’t want to think… it’s good for that, too.” 
“Hmm.” 
He looks over at me; hands clasped loosely between his bent knees. “What did you think about?” 
“College. How to salvage the original plan.” I feel kind of jumpy, sharing my ideas with Drake, with anyone, I’ve kept things to myself for so long, not confiding in my classmates, not getting close to others, lest my father find a way to blacken the connection. To make people sorry for interacting with me. “I was thinking…maybe I could go and see the school guidance counselor. I need all my transcripts to apply to college here in Cordonia. Once I do that, things might get easier. There has to be a way to make it work. Even if it is a little late to apply.” 
Drake nods, frowning like he’s giving my plan some serious thought. “It’s not safe for you to go back to the school, Lexie. I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you need. Pick up your transcripts or anything else. We can find a library around here to fill out the applications online…” My heart thumps heavily. All that time spent with him, getting deeper and deeper. It wouldn’t be wise. “You don’t have to do all of that.” 
“I want to.” 
His eyes are hopeful. I shouldn’t allow that hope. Nor should I rely on him for things I need to do myself. Things that will be required to take control of my life. “It’s not safe for you at the school, either. What if my father presses assault charges?” As soon as I ask the question, I shake my head. “Never mind. He’d never do that. People would know you bested him. They’d know what he did to me, too—and he’d never, never allow that. There’s nothing more important to him than his reputation.” 
“So I’ll go to the school for you?” he asks, quietly, almost too casually, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw. It’s not a simple question. If I say yes to this favor, it means our…relationship will extend beyond one night. To include tomorrow—Sunday—plus Monday morning, before the school opens. It adds time to the us I know he still wants. Do I have a choice, though? My father could be there waiting for me, and that terrifies me more than my feelings for Drake do. What he’s willing to do could help me tremendously. Could start me on the path to a new beginning. “Yes,” I whisper. “You’ll go.” 
Drake swallows loudly, his eyelids closing. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze traces my bare thighs hungrily. We have until Monday now. What are we going to do with all that time? That question hangs in the air, unspoken, but louder than a shout. I can almost feel the binds tightening us together, strengthening until they become impossible to snap. And it scares me, but I need him too, even if it’s for a few days. Always loved being scared, electrified, by beautiful things, and bare-chested in the moonlight, Drake is by far the most beautiful of all. 
“Lexie…” he breathes, swallowing loudly. “I want to taste you again?” Heat envelops me, invades me. I’ve always worried I need to touch myself too often. That I have a more pronounced sexual appetite than I’m supposed to have at my age. But as Drake kneels on the lower stair in front of me and separates my thighs, kissing a path toward my apex, I know he’s the reason. Drake is the reason I’ve been riding the heel of my hand, crying frustration into my pillow, night after night after night. He’s the one that inspires the excruciating arousal—and I don’t have a shot in hell of saying no to him. Not when it comes to being physical. I just have to remember to say no to anything more. Anything beyond this. “Yes…” I lean back on my elbows. “Do it.” 
He does, and we spend the next hours lost on each other. 
87 notes · View notes
binunus · 4 years ago
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college bf!bin
a/n the duality of this man??? i’m deceased...anyway i did not think this would go this long but uh my hand slipped...happy birthday binnie!
word count: 5k
genre: fluff, smut, (tiny) angst _________________________________________________
ugh yo
bin is so??? infuriatingly hot??? yet cute at the same time
major: exercise science
and because I love mermaid prince/the beginning, he’s been on the swim team since first year college
swam varsity starting his second year
besties with eunwoo, they were roommates their whole college career
alright so bin loves making friends
he’s so playful and talkative once you really get to know him
but his aura?? tbh very intimidating
like he has an rbf and just like he’s so tall, broad shouldered, built, like he just carries himself very strongly that you will get intimidated when you first meet him
very well known in the university
literally has a professional photographed banner of him hanging in the athletic building with the gold medal he won freshman year
a little embarrassed about it
not really, only when the boys (as in literally the other five) tease him
myungjun: woOoOw bin that guy on the banner really looks like you, don’t you think?
rocky: we geeeeet it you’re a star athlete
blah blah blah you know the vibes, they’re endearing
so how do you meet bin?
basically you’re a friend of a friend—you’re eunbi’s (sinb) friend
you’ve only met bin briefly from time to time, but otherwise you never really had any reason to get acquainted with him
your only encounters of him are when he wants to annoy eunbi and she immediately puts him in his place
but then suddenly in the spring semester of your 2nd year, you and him are in the same 8 am
a boring statistics gen ed class that everyone needs to take in order to graduate
you were running a bit late during the first class meeting—you woke up 30 minutes after your alarm and literally rushed out of your apartment—you made it to class with 2 minutes to spare
most of the seats were filled up already, except that one seat in the back left corner by the window next to the one and only moon bin
oh would you look at that
you felt a bit relieved honestly, you didn’t know anyone else in that class so at least you saw a semi-familiar face
he grinned at you when you sat down
“hey y/n”
you were a bit taken back, “you know my name?”
he laughed a little, “yeah of course, you’re one of eunbi’s really good friends, why wouldn’t I know your name?”
before you could respond, the professor started class and ceased your conversation
one thing you realized as the weeks start to go on
you and bin could not give any two fucks about statistics
no offense to stats lovers
every 8 am on mon/wed/fri, neither one of you would pay attention in class
you both enabled each other to not pay attention basically
so when the professor announced the content and date for the first exam
you and bin literally looked at each other with the same expression
you were both fucked
after class was dismissed, instead of the two of you quickly packing your things and fleeing the room immediately, you both lagged a little bit
you: so...do you know anything that’s going to be on the exam?
bin: uh...no? y/n you’re literally right next to me, you know I don’t do jack shit in this class
you: well fuck, how are you gonna study then bin?
bin: I was probably gonna ask my roommate to help me, he passed with a 96 when he took this class
you give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, you lean in and clasp your hands together like you’re praying
“can he help me too...? please?”
bin’s eyes go a lil wide bc you were a bit closer than he was used to and shit was his heart racing rn?
bin: uh...yeah...sure, i’ll text you to come over when we’re gonna study
you beam at him and like in your excitement you give him a hug
“thank you thank you thank you! i literally cannot fail this class. I’ll see you on friday bin!”
with that you grabbed your bag and just left, leaving bin shocked
he’s surprisingly a shy boy okay!
he always thought you were cute from when he first saw you hanging out with eunbi, but ofc he never thought any more of it
until you guys had this class together and he started to think every day, that wow you are really cute
bin texts you the next day
coincidentally, eunbi texts you too
bin: hey this is bin, if you’re free in an hour my roommate’s gonna help me go over the material in ch. 1
eunbi: why did bin ask for your number
you to bin: yes! send me your addy and i’ll be there :)
you to eunbi: we’re in the same stats class lol and we’re gonna study for our exam next week
eunbi: lol moon bin studying? you might wanna bring some wine with you for emergency y/n
you: lol what do you mean by that?
eunbi: binnie hates studying, but good luck!
ahh, eunbi becomes unhinged when it comes to bin
but you know it’s bc they’re that close, they’re literally childhood best friends, more so like siblings
still, studying w him couldn’t be that bad right?
spoiler alert, it went alright
you felt bad showing up to bin’s apartment empty handed so you picked up some coffee before you arrived
you officially meet bin’s roommate, eunwoo, and you’re floored for like 2 minutes bc literally how can a man like him be real?
cue bin being a bit jealous bc yeah he knew his roommate’s perfect but like damn did you have to be affected by him too :(
eunwoo’s a good teacher alright? you actually understood the material from him
you: idk what eunbi’s talking about, you’re actually not that bad at studying bin
bin being offended: oh god what did eunbi say about me
eunwoo smirking: maybe it’s because you’re here y/n, bin usually doesn’t focus this much when it’s just me trying to help him
you: ???
bin in his head: i can’t trust anyone huh 
before you left his place, you and bin planned to meet up and study one more time before your stats exam
it was just you and bin this time
although you’d never admit it, yes you tried to look good for meeting up with him
yeah he’s a friend?? at least you think you were at that level?? but still, he’s a cute friend and you really didn’t want him to see you looking crusty
you and bin end up studying for a whole 5 hours
granted, half of that time you two were messing around, eating food, trying to procrastinate for as long as you could
bc even though you two had a good handle on the material now—thanks to eunwoo—you both still hated statistics
you knew bin started to get more comfortable with you bc he started teasing you
it made you happy hehe so ofc you started to quip back at him
not at the intensity that he and eunbi do but it’s enough for you :)
he walks you back to your apartment after your study session
wow what a gentleman
bin waving bye at your door with the cutest smile: see you in class y/n :)
mayhaps your stomach did a little somersault
anyways
on the day of your exam you were freaking out
you have test anxiety ah ha ha
you woke up at 5 bc you were paranoid about being late to class
you’re like hastily looking over the notes again when you get to class like are you really prepared omg you’re psyching yourself out hella
bin comes in with 2 cups of iced coffee and he’s like woah are you okay
you: i woke up at 5 bin, idk if i can do this omg
you are like visibly in distress rn and he feels like a pang in his chest 
he was gonna mess with you and say like “bet im gonna get a higher grade than you” but he smartly decides against it
instead, he just takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze: y/n, take a deep breath. you’re going to do great, you studied your ass for this and we both know that you got this material down—even eunwoo hyung said you were gonna ace this exam. just trust your instincts, okay? breathe with me.
he was staring at you so intently and genuinely when trying to calm you down
your anxiety yeeted and suddenly you felt shy
you: th...thanks bin...
bin was worried about you while taking the test rip, he kept secretly glancing at you (while also trying not to make it look like he was cheating) just to make sure that you were okay
he walks you to your next class after you both finished your exam
bin: you sure you’re okay? you said you woke up at 5, did you even eat breakfast? let’s get food after your next class.
you were feeling better after the test but like you got so endeared at his fussing
yes you and bin got lunch that day
your exam results were uploaded the next day
you immediately called bin: I GOT A 95
bin: i told you that you would ace it! i got a 90 hehe
you: bin i literally owe you and eunwoo my life, lemme buy you guys food or something
you hear a little bit of bickering over the phone and suddenly you’re talking to eunwoo
eunwoo: i would love some sushi, but since bin can’t eat seafood, why don’t you come watch his swim meet this weekend :)
you: o...h...o-okay yeah i’d love to watch, what time is it? :)
eunwoo: it’s saturday at 10 am
you: okay! i’ll see you there bin
bin already planning on drop kicking eunwoo
cha eunwoo—best wingman™
you basically beg eunbi to go with you to bin’s swim meet
eunbi: i know bin can swim, why do i have to watch him flounder around under water
also eunbi: faster bin! don’t you fucking dare lose!
bin places first this meet
are we shocked? no
okay you mentally prepared yourself for seeing him shirtless, but clearly you didn’t prep enough bc you’re on the cusp of drooling when you’re watching him from the bleachers
and let’s face it, you’re not subtle and eunbi knows everything so she’s literally closing your jaw for you and like messing with you
eunbi: y/n, you’re really sure you like bin? he’s a good guy but c’mon, i think you deserve better
you: since when did i say that i like him ???? and what do you mean ??? i think he checks...all the boxes...for me...
eunbi: maybe it’s bc i’ve known him since when he used to wet his pants so i don’t understand why people are attracted to him, but like...really, you’ve been checking him out since he removed his shirt. even the ref can see that you’re simping over him
you and eunbi meet up with eunwoo and the rest of bin’s friends—that you haven’t met yet but know of
jinjin: oh so you’re the y/n that bin’s been talking about *wink wonk*
baby you’re blushing
even more so when bin comes up to your group
mmm middle parted wet hair, muscle tee and white sweats, towel around his shoulders
he’s so hot ???
you’re all congratulating him blah blah, but like bin keeps glancing at you and all you can do is just smile and like nervous laugh
sanha: y/n! eunbi noona! you should come eat with us to celebrate bin hyung’s win
eunbi glances at you, little smirk on her face: i have plans, but i know y/n’s free! bin you make sure they get home safe after y’alls dinner plans :)
hwang eunbi—best wingwoman™
dinner with the boys was chaotic, you were talking and joking around with them as if you didn’t just meet them today
*you about to get your wallet*
bin, not even able to look at you: it’s okay y/n, i got you this time
cue the boys teasing
astro: kings of making fun of each other
rocky as the group is splitting up: walk y/n home safely hyung :) don’t stay out too late
bin: sorry about them, they’re a bunch of loud idiots...ah haha...
the walk back to your apartment is actually pretty sweet
he didn’t know if you would actually come watch his meet or not but he was excited when he actually saw you
you talk about small random things about yourselves, but it’s not like useless information, you bet that both your subconsciouses are keeping track of whatever y’all are talking about
you give each other a “friendly” hug goodnight...that lasts like a minute or so
and while you’re hugging, bin just can’t help but think that wow you fit so perfectly in his arms
and on the other hand, you’re thinking he feels so warm? so safe? you don’t want to pull away?
but ofc the hug has to end and you’re thanking him for walking you home and he’s like glued to his spot waving goodbye sweetly and waiting for you to go inside so that he knows you’re safely in your apartment before leaving
bin sighing dreamily as he walks back to his and eunwoo’s place
eunwoo waiting on the couch with a glass of water: how was your date ;)
bin: it wasn’t a date, i just walked y/n home
eunwoo: yeah, but you want it to be a date
bin: ...shut up
god why is the pining stage so long
alright everyone knows you and bin like each other
it becomes pretty obvious after the swim meet
you and him fall into this little routine of switching who buys coffee for your 8 am
and then he’d walk you to your next class afterwards
you both still don’t pay attention in stats, sorry
but that means more outside study sessions dates
you come watch his swim meets, whether astro’s there or you’re just watching by yourself
and then you and him get lunch?? early dinner?? right afterwards, it depends on whenever his meet ends
but like??? neither of you have confessed your feelings for each other
even though you both have like a little hint that yeah the feelings are mutual
you and bin are literally like this for 3 months, like damn the semester is almost over
eunbi and eunwoo are tired of your shit, they’re both just like: when the fuck are they getting together? we’re sick of this.
alright so the masterminds literally pay one of eunwoo’s friends from his major to ask you out while you’re studying with bin
let’s do mingyu why not, he was in your korean history class last year
you and bin are in the library, half studying half goofing off per usual
eunwoo, eunbi, and mingyu are at the opposite side of the floor
mingyu: u sure bin won’t clock me for trying to ask out y/n
eunwoo: probably not??
eunbi: just do it please
mingyu giving them both the finger before walking up to your table
“hey y/n...i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me...as a date?”
you: o_o huh?
mingyu: i always thought you were cute from when we had class together last year, but i never had the balls to ask you out or anything...you’re not dating anyone, right?
you glance at bin to find that he’s already looking at you with an expression that you don’t really know how to read
you: um...well no I’m not-
bin: actually, we’re dating so y/n can’t go out with you mingyu, sorry.
mingyu’s not even phased, he just gives you a thumbs up and then leaves
you’re confused like literally what is going on—and then you process what bin said and you whip your head to look at him
bin: sorry i said that...i just felt...jealous i guess when mingyu asked you out
you: I wouldn’t have said yes anyway...I sorta like someone else
bin: fuck it, the topic already came up...y/n I’ve liked you for a while now but uh...I don’t know I guess I was scared to tell you because I’m scared of rejection
you just laugh, but not mockingly! more like bin you’re so cute wtf
“bin, why would I reject you when I’ve literally been into you for the past four months?”
it’s safe to say that you and bin officially began dating after that
eunwoo texting in their gc: bin and y/n are finally together
myungjun: fucking finally
bin: how...did u know that eunwoo...?
*eunwoo has left the chat*
alright but bin’s charm?? flirting?? teasing?? sweetness?? up 1000%
bin is touchy y’all, in private his hands are always on you, whether it be sexual or not sexual is up to you
he restrains himself in public ofc, the most he does is put a hand on your waist or hold your hand
eunbi threatens bin early on in your relationship: bin you’re like my brother, but y/n’s one of my dearest friends and if you as much make them cry i will kill you
ofc bin is still eunbi’s punching bag, but when you three are hanging out, he’s dramatic and acts like he’s hurt so he’s like whining to you
sometimes you play along and coo at him like: aww binnie, where does it hurt baby?
other times you’re like: you really think i believe that?? with the size of your biceps??
eunbi: excuse me while i vomit
okay but binnie? bestest sweetest boy
yes he looks all big and intimidating
but he’s soft—especially for you
your nicknames for each other are either “bub” or “baby”
yes will join in making fun of you with the boys, but when you start pouting he’s a goner and will defend you
bin is also a big cuddler, but i mean you’re not complaining hehe
he’s the big spoon, no questions asked
okay but being in bin’s arms is like your favorite place in the world
his frame literally just envelopes you and all you can feel and smell is him and it’s so??? content, you feel at home with him
you feel bad in the morning bc like his arm has to be sore from your weight so you try to like get out of his grasp, but he literally just whines and hugs you tighter
okay but just imagine you and bin napping and his arms are around your waist, his nose is buried in your neck and he wakes up like nuzzling his face in your shoulder like a puppy
im soft
one week you’re staying over at bin’s apartment and then the next week he’s staying over at yours, the cycle goes like that
if you’re one of my ladies with a ~vagíne~, he will buy all your cravings and your tampons/pads, literally anything you want that week, it is yours
doesn’t really get jealous now that you two are official, he knows that you’re his and he’s yours
you two lightly bicker like friends, but you’ve never had a terrible fight before
you were really close to though—or...like you did?? but it was resolved really quick
one of the only problems of bin is that he hates showing weakness and it takes him a whole lot to truly fully 100% be vulnerable with someone even if it’s someone close to him
he pulled a muscle in his arm and it cost him one of his swim meets
he had to go to rehab for like a month and you knew that mentally he’s been off bc of it
you try to ease talking him into telling you about how he’s really feeling but he just kept dodging the subject
one night after one of his rehab sessions, he came back to your place and you’re just like
“hey bubbie, how was rehab? how are you doing?”
and he just snaps at you: stop asking me how I am, y/n, it’s getting really annoying
you’re taken aback, like what the fuck where did that come from?
your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms bc you are not going to get spoken to like that
“so me worrying about you and wondering how your recovery’s going is annoying? that’s what a partner is supposed to do, moon bin. what’s going on with you?”
bin: you’re being suffocating! it’s the only thing you ask me about nowadays, sometimes I—
oh boy you got mad
you: I ask you because I know you’re not telling me things! I know you’re suffering by yourself and I want to let you know that I’m here for you, I want to help take some of the pain away or at least help you deal with it because I’m your partner! but how can I if you can’t even let me in?? we’re fucking dating moon bin, we’re supposed to go through rough times together. and you call me suffocating...? 
bin’s silent and he’s looking at the floor
you sigh, tears are building in your eyes because you’re frustrated and a bit hurt by what he said, and your voice cracks when you speak again: if i’m suffocating you, then you should leave. text me or something when you can breathe again, I don’t know.
there’s a bit of spite in your words, hidden by the pain
bin sees the tears rolling down your cheeks and that’s when he knows he fucked up
he’s never seen you cry before—besides like from a sad movie or something
so like the fact that he made you cry and hurt you with his words? damn he hates himself rn
he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you like try to push him to get away bc why is he hugging you? didn’t he just say that you were suffocating? why is he confusing
bin: baby, I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you, you’re not suffocating me I promise...you’re right about everything, I should be sharing things with you and telling you how I’m really feeling...I’m sorry.
you don’t say anything and just like sniffle and he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom and then he just lets it all out
he tells you how rehab is hard and like yeah his muscle pain is going away, but he doesn’t know if he can swim as fast as he used to and that scares him
and he tells you that sometimes he’s thought of giving up swimming since his injury, but then he thinks of you and that’s how he’s still going through with rehab
you’re his motivator and comfort but he doesn’t want to show you his weak side bc he hates that part of himself
and at this point, bin starts tearing up and you’re like stroking his hair to try and comfort him
bin: I’m not good at telling my feelings baby...probably why I didn’t tell you I liked you until 4 months later...but I promise I’ll work harder and at least try and tell them to you.
ugh pain
anyway your communication with serious things got better after that encounter
eunbi finding out that you and bin argued and he made you cry and she literally punched his stomach
you: omg eunbi stop
bin: it’s okay...I sorta deserved that
eunbi: why...are you not swearing at me? shit, bin are you okay?
he nods to the girl and just puts an arm around your shoulder: we talked things through, don’t worry. I’m all good now, but I did deserve that punch because I hurt y/n when I promised you I wouldn’t
bin ends up having a full recovery and bam his first swim meet after he got the clear from the PT, he gets first place again
all the boys and you and eunbi were there supporting him
bin was hella nervous before the meet started, but you gave him a little good luck kiss and was like: I believe in you bub, no matter the result, as long as you give it your all and don’t hurt yourself again, you’ll be the winner to me :)
this was actually when the first “i love you” was said
after your little pep talk in the locker room, bin’s just hugging you and holding you for comfort
and he just went out with it
“I love you y/n”
you blush hella hard bc you were not expecting that
obviously you’ve been feeling it like yeah your feelings for bin have grown into love for a while now
you just bury your face in his chest and hug him tighter
“I love you too binnie, now go get em bub.”
he smiles and kisses you and tells you that he’ll see you after the meet is over
you come back to the crowd where the boys and eunbi are and you just have a huge smile on your face, you’re literally glowing
myungjun: please tell me you guys didn’t fuck before his swim meet
speaking of fucking
okay let’s get down and dirty ladies and gents wink wonk mmm grr bark bark
bin is so sexy y’all like i dont need to tell you that
he’s 100% a tease
you have a little muscle kink hehe
which bin very much uses to his advantage
if bin is wearing a sleeveless shirt, you bet he wants to smash that day
will walk around shirtless after a shower or after a workout just to turn you on and then depending on his mood, he might tease you for like an hour or you’ll just get right to it
he’s very proud of his body and the work he put into it and knowing that you get turned on from one look of it?? gives him an ego boost, he loves it
one time at a party, he wore a crop top (mm hello bad idea bin) and you literally went feral
you dragged him inside the nearest bathroom and just started making out
he’s an ass guy
...all of astro are ass guys, it’s just obvious with how much they slap each other’s asses and poke each other’s assholes
okay you know how he’s touchy right? i mentioned that earlier
he always wants you on his lap
even if there’s a space available, nope your seat is his thighs
ofc when the situation allows, like you’re not gonna sit on his lap in class duh
most of the time in public like if you’re hanging out with the boys or something, it’s innocent
but if he wants to be a tease, he’ll literally just tighten his grip on your hips and grind you down onto his cock
subtle, he won’t straight up thrust into you
just enough to get his dick stirring and make you feel the outline of it through your pants
and then he just stops and hugs your waist again?? wtf
his major’s exercise science right? will ask if he can practice on you for anatomy and physiology, but you know after touching you in a couple places, y’all will just end up fucking
likes to bite and mark
very proud seeing the hickeys he leaves on you
you can bite, but you can’t bruise, idk his upper body is exposed a lot bc swimming so you can’t really leave any marks on him unless it’s the off season
foreplay’s cool, but he prefers the main event, he just wants to be in you
as much as he loves doggy, his fav position is the hook
(it’s when your legs are on his shoulders ohoho and it just lets him fuck you in a deeper angle mmm)
also in the hook, he can choke you
if i have a choking kink, you have a choking kink
okay little tangent, choking is so hot?
like just imagine you and bin are making out, he pushed you against the wall, literally grinding his hips into you, and his hand just comes up and squeezes your throat? that’s so sexy
likes butt stuff oops
i don’t make the rules, he just does
daddy kink, but no power play
will not degrade you (even if you really just want him to call you his dirty slut) bc he really values seeing you as equals
seeing your face when you cum is a must
almost always: you cumming → bin cumming
nothing gets him off more than knowing that he’s making you feel good
after !! care !!
sweetest boy!!
will clean you up with a warm towel after sex
and if you’re one of my ladies, he will always remind you to pee so that you don’t get a UTI
if y’all had a marathon or something, he will draw a bath and carry you to the bathroom and you will bathe together, so soft
always ends sex with an i love you :’)
okay let’s get back to the soft stuff
special thing about swimmer bin: pool dates
sometimes when he’s practicing and it’s just him, he asks you to come to the aquatic center and you two end up splashing around and being cute together
he like knew that you were the one for him some time during senior year
it was the holidays and his parents invited you to spend christmas with their family since your parents were out of the country this break
his parents and sister liked you immediately—which you were so scared about, but bin just knew
you woke up early christmas eve (and bin was out like a rock) so you just went downstairs to brew some coffee or something and you saw that his mom was already starting on making food
naturally, you offered your help and she was like no, you’re a guest y/n, but obviously you started helping
bin comes downstairs like an hour or two later to see you, his mom, and his dad just cooking and listening to christmas music and talking and his heart just like swells??
you: morning binnie :)
his mom: how can you be sleeping when y/n’s here helping us with christmas dinner
his dad: what kind of boyfriend are you, son?
just kidding all jokes
but that’s the moment when he knew
best boyfriend bin ugh
he becomes a legend in the school for swimming
but doesn’t continue after college, he’s all about becoming a physical trainer after graduation
he goes to grad school, while you’re out working in business
bin moves in with you after graduating, it was the obvious next step
you do talk about the future together, but obviously bin’s still in school and you’re both fresh from undergrad so there’s no rush yet to tie the knot
doesn’t stop his or your parents from talking to you two about marriage tho oops
ugh but the domesticity after bin moves in with you? superb
like yeah obviously you both basically lived together anyway when he still roomed with eunwoo just from how much you and him spent at each other’s places
but like your apartment is now both of your place and it’s like your home is finally complete
your apartment becomes the reunion place for the boys and eunbi
at this point everyone knew you and bin were gonna get married eventually
eunwoo and eunbi: we did that ;)
and that’s how you and your college bf!bin live happily ever after uwu
happy birthday binnie moonbob ♥
1-25-21
174 notes · View notes
pickalilywrites · 4 years ago
Note
Can you please write a gabi x falco fic where gabi is slightly taller than falco (2-3 inches)? And she just finds various ways to tease him for this making him embarrassed. Maybe also have her carry him bridal style in the fic somewhere. I think it would be really cute, funny and wholesome! Thanks for considering my request! And aot shall be missed the end of an era.
Have a great day and God bless! All the best and take care! Happy writing! :))
thank you for asking for this ^^ it was fun to write. it took me a little while but i hope you enjoy it~
-----------------
Taller Than You
Falbi. Canonverse.
8098 words.
Read on Ao3!
Falco can accept being beaten. He’s never been the strongest person or the fastest or the smartest. In all honesty, he’s quite average and while it’s frustrating to never place first or even within the top three of his class, he’s come to accept that some things are beyond his control. Yes, he can work hard and hope to someday surpass his peers and graduate at the top of his class, but he has to work twice as hard because he lacks the natural talent that others were lucky enough to be born with. It’s frustrating sometimes, but that’s just the way it is and Falco is fine with it for the most part.
It’s admittedly a little less easy for Falco to accept his inadequacy as a warrior candidate when Gabi flaunts all of her accomplishments in front of him. She’s accumulated so many badges over the years, little medals made out of cheap metal that were already rusting when they were given to her that she still proudly pins to the front of her shirts, that Falco has lost count of just how many she has.
Really, Falco knows it’s his own fault that his list of accomplishments pales in comparison to Gabi. He’s not as strong and hardworking as she is. If he’s average compared to his other classmates, then he’s completely inferior next to Gabi. He never says anything when Gabi brags about how she’s beaten the record for shooting practice, the previous record which had also belonged to her as well, or when she manages to receive a compliment from one of the most hard-to-impress instructors during a military drill course. He just bites his lip and suffers through Gabi shoving all of her accomplishments in his face. It’s what he deserves for being such a pathetic warrior-in-training.
Gabi really deserves to let her accomplishments be known anyway, Falco knows, and he does like to listen to her list every single one of her achievements. He likes the way her eyes light up when she talks about whatever record she broke, how her chest puffs up, and how she bristles with pride. It’s only right that Gabi be so proud of herself. She’s a Warrior through and through, a person destined to wield a Titan, and undeniably the worthiest candidate in their class.
It should, then, only be inevitable that Gabi surpasses Falco in the only thing that he thought he could beat her at: height. There had been warning signs. For years, Falco and Gabi had been around the same height with Falco always a centimeter or two taller than Gabi, but lately it seems like Gabi has caught up.
The last few months, Gabi was always the exact same height as Falco. Falco would always hold his breath during his physical exam. Whenever his height was taken, he’d stand to his full height, raising his head unconsciously as if that would somehow give him an extra centimeter or two only to have the nurse taking his height to smack him on the head and tell him to stand properly. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Gabi had finally surpassed his height by a centimeter. After all, she had already managed to beat him at everything else, but Falco couldn’t stand for it.
“You can’t be taller than me,” Falco says, hating how high-pitched and whiny his voice sounds. He bites his lip and turns to the nurse that had just finished measuring Gabi and his eyes flit back to his friend. “It’s impossible.”
“Denial is the first step to acceptance,” Gabi says as she cheerfully pats Falco on the shoulder. She’s elated, not even trying to hide the smug grin on her face. “Although, you should just accept it. I’ve beaten you at nearly everything else, so shouldn’t this be easy to accept?”
It should be, but it’s not. Over the past months, Falco had dreaded the idea of Gabi growing taller than him. He refused to believe it could ever happen. He could never beat her at anything except her height, and he clung to that worthless achievement fiercely even as it became apparent that Gabi was hitting her growth spurt much faster than him. Falco finds the reality of Gabi being taller than him is actually much worse than just imagining it. It’s humiliating to be beaten at something he thought he had, but he realizes too late that Gabi’s height is beyond his control and he can only stand there in disbelief as she stands there, chin lifted proudly as she subtly flaunts her extra centimeter in front of him.
“Measure me again, please,” Falco practically begs as he tugs on the nurse’s sleeve.
The nurse eyes him tiredly and shakes his head. “Can’t you see I have to do the rest of your classmates?” he asks, gesturing to the line of kids who are still waiting to be measured. “It’s a centimeter difference. You’ll outgrow her in no time.”
That’s not soon enough, Falco wants to say, but he doesn’t want to sound like a brat so he bites his lip from saying any more. When he turns around, Gabi is giggling behind him with her smug expression still pasted on her face. If she smiles any wider, her face might crack.
He tries to keep his head held high even though all he wants to do right now is throw a fit over something as pathetic as a centimeter height difference.
“You heard him,” Falco says. His voice is still that strange high pitch that makes him cringe inwardly. He should probably shut up now before he makes himself look more like a fool, but he can’t help it. If he doesn’t say something now, it’ll be like admitting defeat. “I’ll grow taller than you soon. Just wait.”
The smirk on her face is infuriating. “Sure,” Gabi says, but it’s clear from the tone of her voice that she doesn’t believe him. “We’ll see.”
But much to Falco’s horror, he doesn’t grow taller than Gabi. His height seems to stagnate despite the fact that he’s eating more than usual. He doesn’t get any heavier either, which just makes it twice as frustrating. It’s as if the food he eats just disappears once it enters his mouth. What’s the point of eating, Falco wonders, if it doesn’t help him grow at all?
Gabi doesn’t seem to have that problem at all. She continues to grow. It’s effortless like everything else she does. First, it’s that one centimeter height difference. Then it’s a few millimeters more, the added height so small that it would be negligible if it were anyone else aside from Gabi. Suddenly, it’s a whole centimeter and a half, then two centimeters, and finally two and a half.
“How are you growing so much!” Falco asks, looking at Gabi in disbelief. He can’t understand how she continues to grow while his own height remains stunted. His parents had assured him that his growth spurt would come soon, but he’s almost certain they’re lying to him because the difference between him and Gabi keeps growing. “This is impossible.”
To the nurse who’s busy taking measurements, Falco says, “Measure me again.”
The nurse doesn’t even look at Falco when he responds. “I’m busy,” he replies. He’s given Falco that response consistently for the past six months. It makes Falco want to tear his hair out. “I don’t see why you’re worried about it all the time anyway. You’ll grow soon enough.”
Falco is about to open his mouth and argue with the nurse when Zofia and Udo drag him away.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, Falco,” Zofia chides as she rubs Falco’s shoulder reassuringly. She sits him down at his desk where she begins to pat his head like one would do if they were comforting an upset child. “Girls usually get their growth spurt before guys anyway, so it’s only normal that Gabi’s taller than you right now. I’m getting pretty tall too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m even taller than Udo.”
“Please don’t rub it in my face,” Udo says with a pained expression. He pulls out a chair and sits across from Falco, giving his friend a sympathetic smile. “She’s right, though, and so is the nurse. You start growing a lot soon. Me, too.”
“I want to grow taller now, “ Falco grumbles. He buries his head in his arms and sighs. Voice muffled, he asks, “What do I have to do to grow a couple centimeters taller?”
“Well, you could do some stretches,” Zofia suggests. She jumps back in surprise when Falco sits up and leans toward her.
“What stretches?” he asks. He scoots up to the edge of his seat, attentive.
“Oh, they’re just … they’re supposed to make you taller. I’ve only been doing them for a few months, but I’ve grown quite a bit in that time,” Zofia explains awkwardly. She looks around as if unsure if it would be appropriate to demonstrate in the classroom. Nobody is paying attention to them though. The rest of their classmates are either busy talking to each other or getting their height and weight measured and their instructor has left the nurse in charge of the class.
Udo purses his lips. “Why haven’t you taught me about these stretches?” he asks with a frown.
“You never asked,” Zofia replies, and Udo scowls at her.
“Well, what are they?” Falco asks a little impatiently. He stands up, ready to follow along with and memorize whatever instruction Zofia gives him.
“One of them goes like this,” Zofia begins and starts to demonstrate.
They’re easy stretches. Many of them are exactly like the ones that they do before they warm up for their physical training: stretching their arms above their head, twisting their torso back and forth, touching their toes, etc. Some are a little more unfamiliar to Falco: stretching your calves as you push against a wall, stretching your forearms and wrists, and hanging against a doorframe or a wall to stretch your shoulder and back muscles.
The key, Zofia explains while the boys do it half-heartedly, is to stretch enough to feel it in their muscles. If they don’t, then they’re doing it wrong. They also need to make sure to hold the stretches for an appropriate amount of time. It’s fine if they do it a little bit longer, Zofia tells them, but they absolutely need to make sure they hold each position for the minimum amount of time.
“And then you’ll grow taller in no time!” Zofia assures them cheerfully.
It’s working. At least Falco thinks it is, although he probably shouldn’t be so optimistic. It’s only been a few seconds after all, but he’s pretty sure he can feel his limbs lengthening as he stretches out his muscles. He’s stretching his arms when a question pops into his head that he hadn’t thought to ask before.
“Where did you learn about this anyway?” he asks Zofia.
It’s suspicious when Zofia doesn’t answer him right away. She avoids his eyes for a moment, looking up at the ceiling while she decides if she should respond. He gets a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as Zofia rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet and she nibbles on her bottom lip. It makes him want to take back his question immediately, tell Zofia that he doesn’t care about who taught these stretching exercises to her anymore, but it’s too late. Zofia is already opening her mouth to answer.
“Gabi,” Zofia answers quietly, but her reply seems to fill the whole room.
Behind them, a horrible cackle begins and Falco turns around, horrified, and sees that Gabi has appeared as if the mere mention of her name had been enough to summon her out of thin air.
“Doing stretches?” Gabi asks with the smuggest smile on her lips. It makes Falco want to scream. She does a few stretches too, stretching her arms above her head, but she does it lazily. It’s almost like she’s mocking Falco. “That’s a good idea, Falco. Maybe you’ll be able to catch up to me someday.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Falco snaps, but Gabi just laughs and he can feel blush bloom across his cheeks. He scowls at her and says, “Those stretches probably don’t work. I don’t need them to grow taller than you anyhow.”
He means it, he really does. He isn’t planning on doing any of the stretches. Even if he does grow taller than Gabi, he knows she’ll comment on how well her stretches worked with that same smug smile on her face. Still, he finds himself absentmindedly doing them when he gets home, figuring that it can’t hurt to try.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Gabi always finds new ways to annoy Falco with her height. It seems she’s not satisfied with bringing it up during every physical evaluation. She has to rub her few extra centimeters of height in his face every chance she gets even if it’s in the most mundane of situations.
Sometimes the way she flaunts her height is horribly blatant. It’s in the snide comments she throws casually at him, asking him what the weather is like down there or apologizing for not hearing what he just said because it’s so hard to hear him from her height. It’s not even as if he’s that much shorter than her. There are plenty of other people in their class that are a lot shorter than Gabi, but she only ever directs her height-related comments towards him.
“Are you done?” Falco asks as Gabi pretends to check their heights again.
She’s standing right next to him, her chin lifted slightly as she compares heights with him. Her hand goes from the top of her head and shifts over just a few centimeters over Falco. He swears she’s exaggerating their height difference because her hand is angled when she moves her hand above his head, giving her a few imaginary centimeters over him.
“Just checking,” Gabi says cheerfully to him. She gives him a grin and leans toward him. He knows whatever it is she has to say next will make him want to stick his head out the door and scream at the top of his lungs. “Falco, do you want to know if you’ve grown any taller?”
“No,” Falco says almost immediately.
Gabi ignores him. “Well, you haven’t,” she says happily. She walks in circles around him, practically skipping. In a sing-song voice, she continues, “I’m still taller than you, much taller than you. You’ll never catch up now.”
Falco grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists.
Gabi is still talking. “It’s okay, though. I’m tall enough for the both of us.” She’s wandering towards the cabinets now. Falco is all too familiar with what’s about to happen next. He knows all of Gabi’s methods to incite his short-man syndrome. She throws open the cabinet doors and looks back at Falco with a dazzling grin. “I can help you with so many things. Do you want anything from the cabinet? I can reach it for you.”
“No,” Falco says, but he knows Gabi isn’t listening to him.
She’s humming as she scans the contents of the cabinet. It’s full of different school supplies, most of them already used before because they’re second-hand from the Marleyan schools. Her mouth shapes itself into a perfect O-shape as she sees something that catches her eye. Falco is about to roll his eyes until he sees what Gabi is reaching for.
Normally, Gabi reaches for things that are just within reach. Sometimes she even gets things from shelves that Falco can easily reach himself. Not this time. This time, she’s reaching for the shelf near the top where the worn-out textbooks are. It’s not something she can reach without standing on her tiptoes and really stretching really far.
With just a glance at this situation — Gabi and her bull-headed stubbornness, the cabinet with its rickety shelves, and the textbooks that are so worn-out that they could disintegrate with a touch — Falco knows that it’s a recipe for disaster. If there were even a chance of stopping Gabi, Falco would step in and try to convince her to stop, but he knows any effort to do so would be futile. He should walk away and let her reap the consequences herself, but he doesn’t. Against his better judgement, he remains and begins to hover behind Gabi.
“Gabi, you really don’t have to,” he says worriedly. His hands flutter pathetically behind Gabi, reaching out to catch her in case she falls.
“Don’t worry. At my height, this isn’t anything difficult,” Gabi says with a toss of her head even though she’s having difficulty. The shelf is so tall that she can’t really see what she’s doing. She has to grasp blindly for a textbook and her smile grows wider when she finally manages to grab hold of one. “Got it!”
As soon as she pulls it from out of its shelf, she stumbles back and loses her balance. Rather than allowing Falco to catch her, Gabi flails about trying to grab onto something, anything, to keep herself from falling. Her hand grasps onto one of the shelves and for a moment Falco thinks everything will be fine. Gabi is suspended there, hanging onto the shelf with one hand while an old, musty textbook is dangling in the other. A beat passes and then two and then a horrible crack is heard.
It happens in slow motion. Gabi’s weight is too much for the shelf and it slips out of the cabinet, coming away with her hand as she falls onto Falco and nearly crushes him. The already unstable cabinet begins to crumble. The top shelf goes first, falling away, and the textbooks that it held drop onto the other shelves which all collapse in turn. The entire cabinet falls apart, its contents spilling on the floor, and Falco winces when he hears Instructor Andreas bellow their names.
“Braun! Grice! What the hell did you two do?” The instructor’s shout can be heard clearly in the tiny schoolhouse and every student immediately freezes at the sound of his voice. It’s never a good thing when an instructor raises their voice, especially Instructor Andreas.
“J-just … getting some textbooks, s-sir,” Falco stammers. Gabi is still on top of him, her weight crushing his lungs, and he shoves her off, jabbing her in the ribs to signal her to apologize before they get into even more trouble.
Gabi grunts and sits up in a more respectable position. She brushes off some dust from her school uniform and at least has the sense to look apologetic as she looks at their teacher. “Sorry, sir,” Gabi mumbles and Falco repeats a clumsy apology beside her. “I should have been more careful.”
“You stupid Eldians can’t help destroying every damn thing you touch, can you?” Instructor Andreas snaps. He spits on the floor in disgust. It’s enough to make everyone nearby flinch. He looks up at the two troublemakers with a scathing glare and jerks his head towards the open door. “Go out there and finish a full circuit. Don’t come back until you do.”
Falco’s shoulders begin to slump. A full circuit is nearly an hour of drills that is sure to leave him sore when he wakes up tomorrow morning. He wants to complain, but he knows one word will just result in a heavier punishment. He should just do it and get it over with now.
He’s about to get up and offer Gabi a hand, but he sees she’s already standing and offering him a hand up. Falco hesitates, but he takes it and lets Gabi pull him up. He knows she’s going to say something about it once they leave the schoolhouse and get out of earshot of Instructor Andreas, but right now he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible even if it means he’ll have to put up with more of Gabi’s short jokes later.
As soon as they step out of the wooden cabin and onto the schoolyard it begins.
“No need to thank me for helping you up,” Gabi whispers to him. She’s so close to him that he can feel her breath hot against his ear. “It’s probably difficult for you to stand up on your own with those short legs of yours.”
Falco scowls at her and gets started on the full circuit before Instructor Andreas can stick his head out of the schoolhouse and yell at them for fooling around.
It’s an hour of grueling physical exertion. The first time he had ever done the circuit, he was ten years old and a new recruit for the Warrior-trainee program. He thought he would die five minutes in. The first part was running around the field, which would normally be bearable except for the fact that the schoolyard is filled with little bumps and holes everywhere. Although he’s learned the best footing when running around the field, his calves still burn as soon as he makes it a half a kilometer. He’s hardly improved from the first time he had run through the circuit.
Gabi catches up to him quite easily even though he’s had a head start. Unlike Falco, she doesn’t break a sweat. She’s practically smiling as she passes by him. It doesn’t surprise Falco. What most people find difficult, Gabi can do easily as if it were as simple as taking a breath.
By the time Falco’s finished running around the field twice, Gabi is already starting on the drills that accompany the circuit: push-ups, curl-ups, pull-ups, any exercise that will ensure that they won’t be able to move a single muscle tomorrow morning. She’s a little red in the face now, her hair falling out of its usual bun and sticking to the sweat on her forehead, but she’s not as out-of-breath as Falco. Somehow, she’s still smiling.
“I hope you know,” Falco huffs as he nearly collapses doing his first push-up., “that this is all your fault.”
“Nonsense,” Gabi says easily. He’s not sure how she’s able to form words so easily. She doesn’t seem winded at all. “I had everything out of control.”
“You broke the cabinet!”
“I got the textbook,” she replies contentedly as if this is all that matters. “Something you could never do on your own due to your lack of height.” She gets out of her push-up position and sits down on her haunches so that she’s looking down on Falco. With an impish grin, she reaches out to give Falco a condescending pat on the head. It’s just a light touch, but it’s enough to send Falco face-first into the ground.
Falco raises his head and splutters, spitting out the dirt that had gotten in his mouth. “I didn’t even need that textbook!” he coughs.
He regrets shouting as soon as the words leave his mouth. His raised voice attracts the attention of Instructor Andreas, who pokes his head out the door and sees Falco collapsed on the ground and Gabi taunting him.
“Braun! Grice!” the instructor growls. His harsh tone makes Falco flinch, but Gabi simply turns her head. “I thought I told you two to complete a full circuit, not play around.”
The two give him a weak apology that the man only scowls at.
“Don’t apologize to me. Save your energy,” the man snarls. He pounds the doorframe twice and then points at the field that Gabi and Falco had just finished running around. “Start over. Do the circuit properly or else I’ll make sure you’ll be running laps around the field until nightfall.”
Immediately, the two get up and jog towards the field. Falco’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out halfway, but there’s no point in complaining about it.
“Sorry,” he mumbles to Gabi as they make their way to the field.
She glances at him, unbothered. “No worries,” Gabi says. She’s being uncharacteristically understanding, even jogging at the same pace as him. The two jog together in tandem for a few beats and Gabi speaks again. “Since you’re so short, it makes sense that you’d be short-tempered, too.”
Falco growls and speeds ahead, but he can still hear Gabi cackling behind him.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Falco sits at the dining table shoveling as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. He’s not even taking time to savor the food. If he did, he’d probably notice that stuffing bread and mashed potatoes and carrots and chicken in his mouth all at once is a disgusting mishmash of flavors.
“Falco,” his mother says exasperatedly as he shoves an entire boiled egg into his mouth. “Can you at least chew your food?”
“No,” Falco garbles through the food in his mouth. A few crumbs fly from his mouth and onto the table. Falco doesn’t hesitate to wipe it away hastily with a napkin and wastes no time in shoveling yet another spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth.
His mother only sighs. She gave up hope on managing her son’s eating habits long ago.
Doing stretches doesn’t seem to be working for Falco, so he has started a new strategy to grow taller: eating his family out of house and home. At first he thought it would be fine if he just took in as much dairy as possible. He’s heard it said that calcium is what makes a person grow, but he became impatient when he didn’t see results the next day and just decided to eat everything he could shove in his mouth. Has it made his eating experience much less enjoyable? Absolutely, but it’ll be worth it if he can grow a couple of more inches and finally overtake Gabi in height.
“What’s happening here?” a familiar voice says. Falco lifts his head to see his older brother Colt walk over with a puzzled look on his face.
It’s been a while since Falco has actually seen his brother at home. After being chosen as the successor of the Beast Titan, Colt had been put on a more intensive training regimen that often started early in the morning before the Grice family was even awake and ended late into the night when everyone had long gone to bed. The only time Falco ever really sees his brother is on the training field with other soldiers when their training schedules coincidentally align. Falco thinks it’s the first time he’s seen Colt at home during the day since he was named Commander Zeke’s successor.
“He’s eating everything in the house,” their mother grumbles because Falco’s mouth is full of food and can’t speak right now. “The rest of us will starve at this rate.”
“That’s fine. Training really makes you hungry,” Colt hums. He shrugs his bag off his shoulder and lets it fall to the floor with a thud. He grabs an empty plate and cutlery from the cabinet and joins his family at the table. Colt is about to help himself to some dinner but he takes a glance at Falco’s plate, which is filled with a mountain of food. He raises an eyebrow. “I know you’re at that age where you eat a ton but isn’t this … a bit much?”
Falco swallows the food in his mouth and it slides slowly down his throat. He’s afraid it gets stuck halfway and begins to cough. He pounds at his chest with one hand and reaches for his glass of water on the table with the other, nearly knocking it over because he isn’t looking. Falco nearly has to down the entire glass before the lump of food is able to slide down his throat.
“Please chew,” his mother practically begs.
Falco ignores her. “I have to … eat more,” he pants. He’s beginning to taste the food on his tongue now, and it tastes terrible. It’s too sweet and too salty and there’s a weird film on his tongue. He gulps down more water before shoveling more food in his mouth.
Colt raises his eyebrows again. Since he hasn’t been able to speak to his family for a while, he’s missed out on quite a lot, including Falco’s current problem with Gabi and his height. His mother is kind enough to fill Colt in.
“He’s convinced that eating more will help him grow taller,” their mother tells Colt. She sits with her back against her chair and her arms crossed against her chest. Her eyes never leave Falco as she speaks. “There’s a girl that’s taller than him.”
Colt watches Falco, his head tilted to the side. “Isn’t it normal for the boys to be shorter than the girls at this age?” he asks. He thinks for a moment as he tries to recall what it was to be Falco’s age only a few years ago. “I think I was shorter than most of the girls in my class when I was your age, too.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Mrs. Grice says. She gives Falco a withering look, but her son is too busy eating to notice. “He’ll catch up to them in no time at all. Eating everything in sight won’t necessarily make you grow any taller, Falco. Just eat normally and you’ll get your growth spurt before you know it.”
Colt continues to observe his little brother. He rests his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand. “Are you really upset that the girls are taller? I’m sure the other guys in your class have already accepted it.” His fingers tap against the table as he thinks. After a moment, he stops and sits up with a suspicious expression. “Unless you’re upset because it’s not because it’s the girls but because of one girl in particular.”
Falco stops eating to glare at Colt. He means for his glare to look menacing, but he probably just looks ridiculous with his cheeks full of food like an overstuffed chipmunk.
The corners of Colt’s mouth quirk upward in a grin. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Colt says. He looks far too amused by this. “Is it … Gabi? It’s Gabi, isn’t it?”
“No,” Falco says with a mouthful of food. He manages not to spit out of any of it, but he kind of wishes he spit his food into his brother’s face. Colt looks as if he’s about to laugh about this whole thing, which only infuriates Falco more. How is any of this funny?
“How much taller than you is she?” Colt asks. He leans over the table with that same smile on his face, the one that says he finds all of this hilarious. “1 cm? 2 cm? 3?”
“She’s not,” Falco lies, but his voice comes out in a whine and he knows his face is scrunching up in a childish way. He wishes Colt hadn’t come home. “She’s not taller than me!”
“Okay, okay,” Colt chides. He starts to pile food onto his own plate and gestures for his mom to eat as well, probably deciding that it’ll be useless to talk to Falco about this topic any further.
The three eat together in relative peace — Falco still trying to eat everything in front of him without swallowing, his mother eating and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever she catches a glimpse of her younger son, and Colt eating normally as if this is a normal family meal. After a moment, Colt takes a brussel sprout from his plate and onto Falco’s. Falco doesn’t think much of it at first but then Colt drops another one onto Falco’s plate, then another one, and then another one.
Falco stops eating for a moment and looks at his brother. “What are you doing?” he asks after swallowing.
Colt stops what he’s doing and looks at his younger brother in surprise. “Me?” he asks as if he wasn’t sure Falco had been speaking to him. “I’m helping you, of course. Helping you grow taller.” He gestures at the brussel sprouts with his fork and then at Falco.
Falco wrinkles his nose. “With brussel sprouts?” It’s one of the few foods he’s been trying to avoid. While his plan is to eat everything, he does have his limits and brussel sprouts are one of them. He can’t stand them. They look like tiny little cabbages, but taste so much worse, their bitter taste lingering on Falco’s tongue long after he’s swallowed. He tries not to eat them as much as he can.
“Yeah,” Colt says. He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know? They’re chock-full of all sorts of nutrients: calcium, vitamin D, magnesium, and the like. It’s supposed to help with bone growth. Helps you grow taller. Didn’t they tell you that in school?”
Across the table, Colt’s mother mouths, “Really?” Falco doesn’t notice when Colt answers with a subtle shake of the head.
Falco looks sullenly at the little pile of brussel sprouts sitting in his pile of mashed potatoes. He pushes them around idly with his fork. “They didn’t mention it in my class,” he mumbles.
Colt shrugs. “You guys probably haven’t gotten into the diet and health unit yet. They really emphasize it in the Warrior Trainee program, especially once you get chosen as a Warrior.”
Falco looks suspiciously at his brother and then at the brussel sprouts on his plate. “Really?” he asks.
“Really,” Colt says. He seems sincere, and Falco doesn’t know why his older brother would lie to him. It’s true that Colt would know what foods to eat now that he’s a Warrior. He would know what foods are good for growth and keeping up someone’s strength.
Reluctantly, Falco spears a brussel sprout with his fork and nibbles at it. He shudders when the weird metallic taste hits his tongue. With a grimace, he puts the whole thing in his mouth, gives it a few good chews, and then swallows it down. It feels like slime moving down his throat. He has to finish the rest of his water just to rinse the taste out of his mouth.
“That’s disgusting,” he shudders, but he spears two more brussel sprouts onto his fork and eats them. It’s just as bad this time as it was before. He’s not sure how he’s going to finish the rest of these brussel sprouts without puking. He screws up his face as he takes another bite of the foul vegetable. “‘This is the worst!”
“Eat up, brother,” Colt hums, loading Falco’s plate with even more servings of the offensive food.
Their mother waves her hand to get Colt’s attention and gestures at the salted anchovies. “These, too,” she says. “Colt, make sure your brother eats these. Weren’t you telling me the other day that they were a good source of calcium?”
“Anchovies?” Colt says with a furrowed brow. Then, as if he’s just remembering, he nods and makes a noise in understanding. He begins to shovel the fish onto Falco’s plate right next to the brussel sprouts. “Ah, right. They mentioned it was a superfood, something that helps you grow taller overnight.”
“Really?” Falco wants to cry. He hates anchovies even more than brussel sprouts. They’re always too salty and too fishy, the taste overwhelming both his nose and his taste buds. He thinks he really is going to puke. He nearly cries as he lifts a spoonful of the little fish into his mouth and his entire body shudders when the salty taste hits his tongue. He’s practically sobbing as he goes for another spoonful.
After a few more horrible swallows of brussel sprouts and anchovies, Falco notices his mother and brother snickering behind their palms. His eating slows and he puts his spoon down.
“These … really aren’t superfoods, are they?” he asks flatly. He already knows the answer even before Colt nods his head. If Falco’s stomach didn’t feel as if it were about to burst right now, he would be flipping the table over in frustration. Instead, he just lets out an exasperated shriek and storms upstairs to his room.
“Where are you going, Falco?” Colt asks after him.
“You haven’t finished eating yet!” his mother calls.
Falco slams his bedroom door behind him in response.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Falco should have figured that Gabi would soon grow tired of teasing him and that she would naturally progress to the next best thing: completely humiliating him in front of as many people as possible.
She still stands only a few centimeters taller than him, but the brunette acts as if she towers above him like a giant. Whenever they’re standing beside each other, Gabi looks down at him, lifting her head and standing as straight as she can without standing on her tiptoes. She stares her nose at him, that smug grin on her face each time. Falco always rolls his eyes and does his best to ignore him, but he finds it more and more grating each time.
Gabi constantly uses him as an armrest, letting her elbow settle on his shoulder or, if he happens to be sitting down, on the top of his head. More than once, he’s scowled at her before waving her away, but it only seems to amuse her even more because she always laughs whenever he does. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him. The additional weight of Gabi’s elbow isn’t much, but it’s the meaning behind the leaning that bothers him so much. It’s only slightly better to just allow her to use him as a piece of furniture, but not by much. He tries his best not to grumble about it each time because it only makes her grin grow wider.
What’s the absolute worst, though, is when Gabi pats him on the head. She does it so condescendingly with the sweetest smile on her face. Her touch is light, affectionate, and utterly humiliating. He’s waved her away once or twice, but she always finds a reason to put her hand on top of his head: because he has something in his hair, because his hair’s a mess, because his hair is so soft. It doesn’t matter how well-meaning her reason seems. Falco knows her real motive: to remind him of just how short he is by infantilizing him in whatever way she can.
“Oh, Falco,” Gabi says in a sing-song voice. She’s already looking at the top of his head, her hand reaching out to touch his hair. Her fingertips brush against his golden blond locks. “You have something in your hair-”
“No, I don’t!” Falco says, whacking her hand away. He regrets it immediately because now Gabi is standing over him, her hands behind her back and her lips curled in an amused grin.
“How would you know that?” Gabi says. She steps closer to him, hand still clasped behind her. “You can’t see the top of your head, can you? But I can easily because I’m-”
Falco doesn’t let her finish. He’s already heard it too many times before. “Whatever is in my hair, I’d rather it just … be there,” he says firmly.
Gabi stops smiling for a second and then blinks once. Twice. Her mouth spreads into a wide grin once again. “Aren’t you funny?” she coos. She reaches out to pinch Falco’s cheek. It doesn’t hurt, but Falco can feel his cheeks turning red just from her touch. “You don’t care if your hair’s a mess? Or is it really because … you hate how small this makes you feel?” Her hand finds its way to the top of Falco’s head, patting Falco like he’s a dog.
“So, you admit you’re doing this to humiliate me?” Falco asks. It comes out less indignant and more embarrassed, Falco’s cheeks still flushed in humiliation.
“Oh, please,” Gabi smiles. “I can do much worse.”
Falco should have run. He should have turned on his heel and taken off as far as his feet would take him. He knows that look on Gabi’s face, that knowing smirk and that mischievous glimmer in her eye, and he knows that whatever is to come next is absolutely no good. For whatever reason, he stays rooted to the spot even as his eyes widen in horror as Gabi reaches for him, her arms enveloping him right before she sweeps him right off his feet.
“What are you doing?” Falco yelps. He’s jostled around in Gabi’s arms, his chin bumping against her shoulder and then her head as she tries to find a comfortable place to hold him. Somehow, his arms find a way around Gabi’s neck as he hangs on for dear life. “W-what are you doing?”
“You must be so grumpy being so close to the ground all day,” Gabi says breezily. She’s carrying him like a bride and swinging him around like he weighs nothing. “The air is probably stuffy down there. Isn’t it nice being up this high?”
Falco is about to retort that the height she’s carrying him at right now is much shorter than his actual height, but he doesn’t get to because Gabi begins to spin around. He has to hang onto her for dear life because he’s afraid she might drop him. By the time Gabi’s stopped, his head is still spinning and he thinks he can see stars even though the sun is still out.
She lets him down gently, but Falco is still swaying as he stands. He holds his hand to his head as he begins to get his bearings. With a wince, he glances over at Gabi.
“Are you happy now?” he grumbles.
Gabi smiles at him. She rests her elbow on his shoulder and the corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin grows wider. “Very,” she replies.
»»————- ★ ————-««
He can’t believe it. Falco really can’t believe it. He’s finally growing taller, but it’s still not enough to beat Gabi. It’s just enough to decrease the gap between them. It’s a one centimeter difference. One measly centimeter, but somehow it bothers Falco more than when Gabi had been two centimeters taller than him.
“Can you just …?” Falco says, stepping nervously behind the nurse who’s already getting ready to measure the next person in line. He glances away when the nurse glares at him, but tugs on the man’s sleeve anyway. “I mean … it’ll only take a second. Are you sure I’m not, like, maybe a centimeter taller than you measured? You were measuring me pretty quickly …”
“Kid,” the nurse says, turning to Falco with a sigh. The person waiting in line looks mildly annoyed at the holdup. “How many times do we have to go through this? You know the rules. I measure you once, and you go.”
“Yeah, but-”
The nurse shakes his head and waves his ruler, gesturing for Falco to leave. “I have work to do.” The man sees Falco’s downcast expression and sighs. “If you’re really bothered just … get shoes with taller soles or something. That’ll do until you finally hit your growth spurt.”
Falco walks away, his shoes dragging against the hardwood floor. “As if I have the money to get new shoes,” he mutters. He stops when he sees someone in front of him. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that it’s Gabi standing in front of him looking as smug as ever.
“Hi, Falco,” she chirps.
“It’s one centimeter,” he tells her. He’s glowering, but Gabi doesn’t even flinch.
“It sure is,” Gabi grins.
“It’s one centimeter!” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s following her as she’s happily skipping away from him, probably to inform all their friends and classmates that she’s still taller than him. He just wants it to be clear: it’s only a one centimeter difference. “It’s not that much taller than me!”
He hates the way she stops and spins around, the way she stands so self-satisfied, the way she smiles at him with her shit-eating grin.
“It’s still one centimeter taller than you,” Gabi says.
Falco hates that the most.
»»————- ★ ————-««
When it finally happens, Falco’s not as happy as he thought he would be. In fact, he’s not happy at all. Instead of celebrating the fact that he’s now half a centimeter taller than Gabi, he’s hovering nervously behind the nurse once more.
“Just one more time please!” he begs, tugging on the back of the man’s shirt. He doesn’t even flinch when the nurse swats him away like a mildly annoying gnat. “Are you sure I’m not even a little bit taller? Maybe like … a half-centimeter taller or even a whole centimeter taller than what you just said?”
“You’re as tall as I say you are the first time and not any taller,” the nurse replies. He turns his head to glare at Falco and wags the ruler in front of the boy’s face. “Stop begging me for remeasurements. I’ll start shaving off a centimeter from your height every time you ask.”
“Sorry!” he squeaks before scurrying off to sulk behind Udo.
Udo watches Falco amusedly as the blond shuffles around and mumbles unintelligibly under his breath. “I don’t see why you’re so bothered,” he tells Falco. “You’re finally taller than Gabi, so what’s the big deal?”
“It’s not enough,” Falco sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his golden locks irritatedly. “I’m finally taller than her, and she isn’t bothered at all! Just look at her!” He points a finger where Gabi is happily conversing with Zofia. Either she hasn’t heard the news or she doesn’t care. Considering the fact that she hardly even flinched when Falco crowed his new height measurement at the top of his lungs to the class, it’s most definitely the latter. Falco just doesn’t know why.
“... Maybe she just doesn’t know?” Udo guesses with a weak shrug of his shoulders.
Falco shakes his head. “No, she definitely knows.” He’s not so sure anymore. “R-right?”
Again, Udo shrugs.
If Gabi doesn’t know, then Falco needs to make sure she does. Maybe she hadn’t heard him the first time. Maybe she was too busy talking to Zofia to pay attention, Falco thinks as he marches over to where Zofia and Gabi are. Udo follows for moral support, but he sighs as he does because he knows Falco will never be satisfied with the outcome.
Only Zofia turns around when he reaches them. Gabi continues to speak to Zofia, not noticing that her other friends have joined them. It’s only when Falco clears his throat that Gabi stops speaking and looks over at him, eyebrows raised just the slightest bit like she’s feigning surprise.
“Oh, Falco,” she says, smiling delightedly. “Have you been there long?”
“I’m taller than you now,” Falco says, not even bothering to answer her question. He puffs out his chest as he says this, straightening his back to assert his newly achieved half-centimeter height difference over her. “I’m half a centimeter taller than you, in case you haven’t heard.”
To his surprise, Gabi’s smile doesn’t falter. On the contrary, it grows even wider, much to Falco’s horror. “So I’ve heard,” Gabi says. “Congrats, Falco. Good job on surpassing my height by half a centimeter. I’m really happy for you.”
“You … you are?” Falco deflates. His shoulders are slumped in disappointment. If Gabi were to stand up next to him right now, their height difference would be negligible. He had expected her to be infuriated that he had finally beaten her at something. It’s surprising that she hardly cares at all.
“Of course,” Gabi says with a shrug. She stands up, but she doesn’t straighten her back or even try to stand on her tiptoes. She just stands there, half a centimeter shorter than Falco but she carries herself so confidently that she might as well dwarf him. “Enjoy it while you can, Falco. I’ll catch up to you soon.”
He can only stare in open-mouthed disbelief as Gabi all but swaggers out of the classroom. “H-how?” he asks, running after her.
Gabi shrugs as if she hasn’t figured it out yet. It’s like she really doesn’t care at all.
Udo and Zofia have followed Falco and stand behind him as he clings onto the door frame with a frustrated hand.
“She could probably grow on sheer willpower alone,” Zofia says as she pats Falco’s shoulder sympathetically.
“Probably,” Udo agrees.
Falco sighs, leaning against the doorframe. He should just give up now. He could grow a full meter taller than Gabi, but he’d still never catch up to her. Never, he thinks with a smile.
27 notes · View notes
honorable-wanderings · 4 years ago
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Word of Honor - Episode 3 Part 2 - We’re getting INN to it now!
Meanwhile back with Scooby  and the Gang. B-characters realize that the Goldilocks is missing and it was only the 3 bears that were killed.
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And we can hear them surprisingly well from this far away. Their voices must carry exceptionally well.
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The spiderwebs of DEATH
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Seriously though it’s been hours. How has no one either taken these wires down or run into them accidentally? You cannot tell me they have checked every bit of this place for ChengLing’s body if these are still up.
Someone has lied to you Mr. White ‘n’ Blue.
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No you fucking did not. If you were cleaning them up roughly you’d at least get the ones on the main doorways! goddamn.
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Old ppl vs the Ghosts!
COME ON DOWN FOR THE FIGHT OF YOUR LIFE THE ALL DEAD VS THE MOSTLY DEAD THIS SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY BE THERE BE THERE BE THERE.
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The Ghost Valley is a menace! It’s high time someone went in there and eradicated them all!
Huh... never thought of that before...
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Eh. Old people chanting the children’s rhymes doesn’t have the same tension. It’s just not the right feel. It’s a no from me.
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Yes. This is perfectly far enough away. No one could possibly overhear us from this distance! I am a genius!
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We are all very worried about ChengLing’s well being. Yes. That is all. Only his well being. Nothing else. No ulterior motives here. Nope. Purely just good will and worry. :DDDD
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Ah yes! Back to my boys! :D
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You big softie.
Seriously though. He is so considerate of not only Best Boy’s physical well being but really his emotional state and autonomy as well. He doesn’t expect ChengLing to act like a full grown adult but he doesn’t treat him like a little kid either. It’s great and I’m here for it.
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It’s not stalking if we got here first, right? Now you’re stalking me! :D :D :D :D :D
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Some day soon I’ll get you to admit you like me ;)
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Whaaaaaaaaaaaat you’re here to? At this random river?????? OMG what are the chancesssssss?!?!?
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At this point I just wanna know fuckin how????
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A-Xiang deserves a fucking medal for putting up with this BS. For real.
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A-Xu you make-a him sad D:
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Zhou ZiShu! Look out! They’re stealing your boat!!
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-Hey if the ghost valley peeps come up to wreck shit it’s gonna be our shit that gets wrecked too you know? -I don’t give a farting fly’s left ass cheek! I’m one foot in the grave already.
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Glazed armor this glazed armor that give me a glazed donut and let’s call it a day. I don’t careeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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Are you inn or out?
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Sorry we’re out of space because for some reason we let ourselves rent out the entire establishment to a single person. Like I get he paid for the rooms but it’d still be bad for business?? Like no one wants to go to an inn if they won’t let you stay even though there are empty rooms. Like the fuck
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Look elsewhere? Shit you know this is the only inn in town (apparently)!! Where we supposed to go???
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Um... why don’t you try looking at I don’t give a FUCK
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Well well well. Who could have seen this coming?
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Zhou ZiShu is about read to add a few more nails
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This old ragged beggar man is hot as fuck. Set him up in my room at once!
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Just end my suffering. I beg you
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ChengLing just gonna keep his mouth shut and stay out of it
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-I gave you my own room! -My room now. Kindly GTFO -But I bought you clothes too! -Yeah no one asked you. GTFO!!
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-How have my seduction techniques continued to fail??????????
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Love me pls D:
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If Oedipus invented a wire tap he’s gonna have to work harder to get past me!!
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But he doesn’t look like he’s a bad person
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Bad people rarely do.
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Take the bed? I couldn’t possibly!! No! You’re taking care of me and protecting me and you’re old! You take the bed! I’ll sleep on the chair! I’m the best boy!!!
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Bitch did I fucking stutter?
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You owe me no explanations. I’m sure you have your reasons and that they’re good ones. But don’t suffer needlessly. Treat your wounds and I won’t ask any more about it.
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MY BOY DOESN’T DESERVE THIS. ALL THIS OVER A PIECE OF FUCKIN SEA GLASS??????????
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Ain’t nobody dope as me I’m just so fresh, so clean (So fresh and so clean clean)
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Daaate niiiiiight
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So I get that you’re like persistently stalking me and all that but like Why??
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Because I know you cute as fuck. Why you hiding? Show me what your true face and I’ll tell you what I want. What I really really want.
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You first bitch
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Local man tries to pry secrets out of only human in a 10 mile radius who has no ulterior motives and is confused when it doesn’t work.
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Das gay
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HDU
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Clink Clink bitch
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Master can you please keep it in your pants for 5 minutes? It’s all I ask. Just 5 minutes of peace! Please!
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Pop Quiz! Who is the second cutest person in the world?
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I will settle for anyone who feeds me
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Naw. Tsundere is where it’s at.
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*Is unimpressed in tsundere*
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Then who is the mostest cutest?
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A tsundere with long legs, slim waist, fat ass.
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Heavens strike me down now. Please end my misery. Why did I sit here? Didn’t I know better?
Anyone have any more torture nails? Anyone? Please?
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*Insert Mii channel theme*
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We are the unwashed masses. Let’s go fuck some shit up
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Hey guys. Does this look like anime style to you? Someone said it looks like anime but I don’t see it.
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I think it looks great! I can’t even draw a stick figure! hahahaha
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Sleepy boi <3
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How the fuck did I become the third wheel?
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*mii channel theme continues*
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Your honored uncle here wouldn’t let us eat anything until you woke up even though he sat at my table. D:
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-Stop acting like a little brat and start acting polite and demure like the other girls
-Uuuuuuuuuuuuuugh gross
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We’re doing found family and we’re doing it now!
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Why aren’t you eating?
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Yeah! We had to wait all this time for you to get here and you’re not even eating anyway!!!!!!
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Well my home and my entire family died, and so did that random boat man who protected me. And also there’s a hole in my stomach. So I don’t have much of an appetite atm.
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Oh My God. can you not???
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But that’s how I show affection!!!!!!!! D:<
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Shoving food in your face to hide your tears. A time honored tradition.
Also D: Best boy is sad </3
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Oh no. More people I’m supposed to remember.
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JESUS FUCK REALLY???
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ARE YOU KIDDING ME? HOW MANY? You cannot tell me they are all important. Please tell me I’m not supposed to remember this many people. I can’t handle this.
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aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG
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THAT’S 11 PEOPLE AT ONCE! WHAT THE FUCK
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Whenever this guy speaks it sounds like he’s trying really hard not to cough in front of the board meeting.
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Okay so what I got from this is
There was a treaty between these peeps and the ghost peeps to say they’ll leave each other the fuck alone
The ghost peeps broke that promise by fucking with the mirror lake sect and so these peeps decided to retaliate
and they’re gonna retaliate by throwing a party? Like I guess they’re just gathering forces? But like it’s a weird way to do it.
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Oh for the love of god.
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Pffffffffffffffff welcome to the circus
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*sigh*
Okay y’all I can remember like 6 people. 7 Max. Y’all gonna have to be picky about who’s important here.
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How many of these people do I actually have to know?
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Now what the fuck happened here and why are the twin jades here?
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You two have a piece of the glazed ham. And even though no one is using it it’s really important that we keep it that way. No one must hold all pieces of the glazed ham. Or..... bad things?
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Oh my. Pain o’clock already?
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SOMEONE GET THEIR ASS IN THERE AND GIVE MY BOY A HUG!
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Hey! What do you see? Is he in there? I can’t see a goddamn thing.
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So I know that he’s like what, 15? And like grew up with a dad. But like you know they made him scream “A-Die” and then wake up to Zhou ZiShu’s comforting touch on purpose. You know that was planned.
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Maybe not a father, but certainly a father figure.
(Also thanks, A-Xu for answering my request from earlier for someone to comfort the poor boy.)
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What’s this? The sounds of a scuffle???
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Whelp. Not anymore.
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Couldn’t he have just ordered them to leave instead?
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The Ghost Valley seems to be following me rather closely.
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Oh you have no idea. ;)
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Alcohol detected
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Let me call you a cute pet name and I’ll let you drink from my bottle of nectar. ;)
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Oh my god this shit again?
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You know what?
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Two can play at this game.
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You wanna see what lies underneath? Rip it off yourself.
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Don’t worry! I’m patient! Sleep well! Dream of me! I know I’ll be dreaming of you! ;)
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36 notes · View notes
softer-ua · 4 years ago
Note
I have no idea what Bakugou would have done if Izuku died in the sludge Villain accident. They had a lot of strong unresolved emotions, I just can't fully visualize it, the only thing I have clear is him trying to latch onto anger, but that would burn out fast because the Villian was trapped and the heroes did their thing (Winning, which at that point he believed everything was) so I don't know what would he do. Sooo...could you please give us your insight? Please :D
I’d love to give my insight! Thank you for asking!!!🥰
It would depend on which sludge incident, the one where Deku ran to save Katsuki or the one where Deku was on his own? 🤔 I’ve got ideas on both lol
Buckle up this is gonna be a long one, and it’s not a fun ride
For the first I think Katsuki would latch onto anger and be a self hating righteous little monster for the rest of eternity. Because obviously he’s never getting therapy.
If he can blame himself for AM’s retirement and his parents can blame him for getting kidnapped than I have zero doubt the Entire Bakugo family would blame Katsuki for Dekus death. That family loves to victim blame, and Mitsuki would have a field day with chart topping world’s lowest blows like
If Katsuki hadn’t been hanging out in an alley and had gone straight home the villain wouldn’t have got him
If Katsuki hadn’t just been randomly blasting the heros wouldn’t have had to divert their attention to the fire
If Katsuki hadn’t been so weak(what’s the point of that flashy quirk if you can’t even save yourself)
Going with him to make him apologize to Inko (trying to imagine this feels like my brains touching a hot stove, it would be a thousand times more horrible and scarring than being forced to apologize to his Idol and teach for being kidnapped)
If hs Katsuki didn’t have the tools to block out his mother and broke down over a 50 year old man retiring, then poor ms Katsuki doesn’t stand a chance against being forced to bare the blame in someone’s actual death, especially not Dekus. Plus whatever destructive aftermath Katsuki created.
Did you have to blow up the entire alley way??
Katsuki would also never stop blaming those heros, even if the villain was captured they lost what really mattered, Dekus life.
They should have stopped the villain before Deku ever showed up
They should have never let Deku cross the line
They should have saved him
I think his fear of being weak would have been magnified by 10000. And it wouldn’t be a stretch for me to believe that witnessing that kind of hero failure so personally would be his villain origin. But even if it wasn’t, I think 10 months of stewing in grief, rage and self hate at such a young age would leave some very permanent scars
He’d habitually train to the point of self harm(reminder to check in on your fitness bros)
He’d never ever let someone close to him again (he didn’t want Deku close to him in the first place and look at how bad it hurt anyway)
He wouldn’t give a shit about any heros opinion anymore, if it’s not about how he can get stronger than any would be mentor can fuck off
His ego would have taken a massive hit, he’s no longer trying to prove he’s the best
Instead he’s insuring it because he’s never losing anyone again
Even with that in mind I think the sports festival actually would have gone a lot calmer because he no longer gives a shit about showing off, he’s just fighting to test himself and Dekus the one who pushed Todoroki to the point anyone even knew he had a fire side(I always wonder how much longer Aizawa was gonna let that go on for) so he’d except his medal quietly so it’s possible the lov would never have tried to recruit him
I think he’d be a lot more proactive in helping his classmates get stronger
Just not in a cute tsundere way anymore, but in a “if you can’t keep up with me I will keep attempting to murder you until you drop out” way, because B List heros are not allowed to be a thing anymore
Eventually he would grow up to be the top hero and he revels in that victory by hating himself, his job, his coworkers, his family, and everyone and everything else. The best part of his days are the adrenaline highs and that’s not even a happy high, in a bad headspace it just makes you ansty and aggressive, still better than being a hallow husk of resentments
I wouldn’t be surprised if he eventually did kill a fellow pro for not meeting his standards. Depending on what the hero did to earn his ire would shape wether he went on to be the new hero killer or simply stopped being a hero himself in custody or more permanently
Now if the villain had instead been captured after being caught hiding in Dekus flesh suit things would have been very different than the above
Katsuki would definitely be traumatized at this news, so would most of their class and they’d probably do some kind of memorial deal, and over the course of a couple of days Katsuki would slowly descend into madness at watching his class act like they have ever given a single fuck about Deku
Then he would speedball into it, because how dare they grieve over him, non of them deserve to especially not him
He’d be angry for as long as he could, at himself and everyone else, but eventually that’d putter out without anyone stoking the fire, no one else blames his class for feeling sad and no one blames the heros for not existing on every single possible street corner
Maybe he makes it through UA. He’s not as hot head, not as naive, but teens hold grudges like no other, he can be mad at the world a little longer.
Throws himself into the work so he doesn’t have time to think. He’s going to be the best because Deku always believed he would be and if he’s not allowed to be sad than this will be his only way to honor the nerds memory.
But the thing about pain is that it demands to be felt.
Eventually his regrets and grief would come for him, in a year or in ten years doesn’t matter they will eventually claim the time and space they need with interest.
He’d probably meet his regrets first so that he can be mad at himself for a little longer
He should have let Deku be
If he hadn’t held Deku up after class maybe he’d have made it home
His last words play on loop growing distorted and more malicious as the years go on(fun fact about memory ! It’s easily manipulated because each time you remember something you’re actually just remembering the last time you remembered the thing! Basically your brain reconstructs the memory completely each time! Fuck it up once and it’s all down hill)
He regrets not ensuring that he’d have more than his flimsy memories to hold onto Deku with, he never realized he’d want to, never could fully conceive that he’d actually have to.
He should have been kinder
He should have been less of a coward and faced his own insecurities
He should have talked to Deku about so many things
He can’t just focus on what he did and didn’t do forever tho, eventually he’ll have to recognize the hole Deku left behind, his regrets will paint the picture of his grief
Maybe he forgets the exact date of Dekus birthday but he knows it was in the summer, he regrets not going to his last one and grieves never going to a next one.
He regrets not going to the funeral, of course he was sad, he’d been an idiot to think he couldn’t be
He regrets not visiting Dekus grave, and grieves over how long he’s been gone now
He regrets that he had to learn what the value of saving is by having lost, god how he grieves that loss
Without Deku Kaminari never hears that nickname, Kacchan died with Deku. He grieves over never hearing it again
He wonders if Dekus hanging out with Kacchan wherever he is, he wonders if this makes him crazy.
He grieves over Deku dying so young, so alone, so horribly. It gives him nightmares, he can’t imagine the pain of having all his organs crushed down from the inside, and yet he’s some how intimately aware of its possibility. He debates looking for the autopsy results, maybe if he confirms it was asphyxiation and not internal blunt trauma the nightmares will stop. But you don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.
He grieves over the dreams Deku never got to chase, and regrets ever playing a part in taking away the happiness a dream is supposed to have
He grieves over the Deku shaped hole in his life that seemed to grow with him despite only ever getting to know the knobby knees version, he can’t help but think with every achievement and milestone “you should be here”
He doesn’t hate his life, it just feels half lived.
Without Deku pushing his buttons and no god complex shaped alarm bells people were slower to reach out to him.
Without Deku to vouch for his good qualities people were a lot more hesitant to see them.
He still did make friends it’s just a shallower connection and he doesn’t make time for them
He becomes top hero but the victory feels hallow like there should have been more of a fight for it. Maybe he is crazy but it feels like it should have been Deku fighting him for it.
His saves are legendary and numerous, he’s never able to shake the feeling that there’s someone out there who needs him just around the corner
Between the nightmares and the anxiety clocking off gives him he probably gets less sleep than any hero before him, even Aizawa.
It was a short career
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Text
Feral Fatality
(Part 1)
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So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!
Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part
Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
-
Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.
Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.
One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.
Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.
-
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The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.
The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.
This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.
Nothing but a white lie.
An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.
You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.
She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.
That wasn't the only reason though.
Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.
(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.
You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.
If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.
You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.
Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.
You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.
Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.
"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"
"You got to be kidding me."
"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."
Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.
You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.
You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.
Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.
You wanted to be left alone.
To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.
That's why you agreed to go in the first place.
You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.
Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.
So you gave up.
Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.
There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.
And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.
You also knew about him.
Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.
And other, important things.
You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.
You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.
Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?
Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.
In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.
You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.
Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.
There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.
Perfect.
You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.
Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.
A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...
Wait, is that what you think it is?
Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.
Blueberries.
Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.
Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.
You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.
You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.
-
The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.
You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.
Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.
You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.
So you did.
You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.
You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.
Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.
His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—
The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.
A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.
He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.
They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.
All but one.
Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...
Adoration?
You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.
Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?
The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—
Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.
His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.
Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...
For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.
Oh, his plants.
He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.
Cute.
You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.
Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.
Let's see what you'll do before that happens.
-
Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.
What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.
Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!
He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.
A swift end. Now he waits.
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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago
Text
i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate au) -- part eight
Oop another chapter! I knew this would happen because as soon as I say an update might take a while, my brain spits one right out. Enjoy! xx.
Warnings: nothing much! Things are getting figured out and GASP there’s a touch of fluff in the end :)))
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The conversation is going exactly as you figured it would. They want to bring Bucky in, continue the process of evaluation and extradition. But, you’re fighting it.
“Bucky doesn’t need to be evaluated and sent away. Bucky is fine, for lack of a better word. Yes, I admit, he might need some sort of psychological help, but that’s no different than any other soldier who went to war. At the end of the day, he’s just a regular soldier who went to war. You have to understand that.”
Everett Ross looks ready to combust. His arms crossed over his chest, he turns to look at Tony who is accompanying me in this meeting. Natasha is off with Secretary Ross to discuss revising the Accords, but will be back soon once we reach a compromising point -- which doesn’t look to be happening anytime soon.
“You’re telling me to listen to her just because she’s his soulmate?” Everett scoffs when Tony nods. “So what if he didn’t bomb Vienna, he’s done other things that we have evidence-- video footage, even, of him doing!”
“Oh, please,” you scoff, drawing Everett’s eyes back to you. “He was brainwashed. It was the Winter Soldier doing those things, not Bucky!”
“How are we supposed to know when he is or isn’t the Soldier, huh? How?”
“Because you can tell,” I snap. “I can feel it, and trust me, the Soldier is a complete contrast from Bucky. If he’s trying to kill you, then obviously he’s not Bucky. But if no one ever mutters those damn words to him again, then he’ll stay Bucky forever, and he can get back on the right track to recovery. Did we burn the book?”
“Yes,” Everett says through clenched teeth. “It’s been burned.”
“Do I get to see proof?”
“You want us to go get the ashes?” He deadpans.
“Please,” you mutter, adding a sweet smile.
Everett’s jaw clenches.
You watch as he orders someone to go find the remains of the burned book just for you to lay your eyes on. You know they’re only tolerating this because you know where Bucky is, but it’s fun to play with them.
While the guard goes to find the ashes, the conversation continues.
“Alright, as I said, he’s assassinated more people than anyone else--”
“He was brainwashed,” you nearly scream. “He did those things against his will. It was HYDRA that programmed him to do those things. He didn’t just wake up one day as Bucky and decide to kill some famous people.”
Next to you, Tony snickers, and when Everett glares at him, he holds his hands up in surrender. “She has a point.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, but then you’re back on track. “Would you seriously treat any other soldier like this? He was brainwashed, Everett.”
“Yes, as you keep saying.”
“Because you’re not getting it,” you snap. “You don’t understand. And you won’t, so I’ll stop trying to make you. But you have to at least have some sympathy. He was a prisoner of war. Would you treat the others like this?”
Everett stays quiet.
“They’re given medals, aren’t they?” You press on. “For their courage. For their bravery. For surviving. I’m not asking you to give Bucky a medal and honor him on national TV. All I’m asking is that you help us convince Secretary Ross to pardon him and to get him the help he deserves, so he can start his life over again.”
Everett says nothing, but he doesn’t have a chance to anyway. Secretary Ross enters the office with Natasha on his heels, as well as T’Challa.
“T’Challa,” you blurt, standing to your feet more out of surprise than royal courtesy.
“Y/N,” he returns the greeting with a nod. “You were right. I almost took out my vengeance on the wrong man.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. That’s one person who has seen the light.
“It is my pleasure,” T’Challa smiles gently. “Soulmates are rare and should never be taken away from one another.”
“Oh, seriously?” Everett’s voice interrupts us. “Soulmates are a fairytale. They are not enough to excuse this.”
“Excuse what?” T’Challa says. Everyone watches the King as he approaches Everett. “Do not take out your anger on those more fortunate than you. It is not their fault your soulmate could not bear to be with you.”
Your eyes widen. Everett wears a wedding ring, a simple gold band, but it must serve as more of a reminder than a vow.
Natasha steers the conversation back to its point. “Secretary Ross has agreed to revise the Accords, on the condition that all of the Avengers sign this time, not just a handful.”
You look to Secretary Ross in suspicion. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch,” he shrugs, beginning to pace the room. It’s an annoying habit of his. “We were listening to your conversation with Everett. And I, for one, stand with you.”
Still in disbelief, you stare him down, waiting for more.
“Barnes was indeed a prisoner of war. We don’t see it that way because in the past, prisoners have not been...brainwashed and programmed to assassinate. But he was a prisoner of HYDRA, and to treat him as the villain would be a grave disservice and disrespectful to his fight.”
You keep your face steady, not believing your ears. “What about the revised Accords?”
“It’s being drawn up now,” Secretary Ross announces. “Barnes will be pardoned for all actions, but he will also be required to seek psychological help. Government paid, of course. It’s the least we can do.”
“Okay,” you nod. “What else?”
“Well,” Secretary Ross sighs, clearly annoyed that you can see right through him. “I’m requiring that you sign the Accords as well, Miss L/N.”
“What?” You blurt, looking at Tony. “I’m not an Avenger.”
“Not yet, but you will be,” Tony replies. “You think I didn’t notice you stole one of my AI’s, by the way? If you wanted one, you just had to ask.”
“Stealing an AI doesn’t make me an Avenger,” you mutter. “And sorry. I was going to tell you eventually.”
He smirks. “I know. And you’re right, it doesn’t, but your skill does. You think those combat lessons I got you were for just anyone? No, those were Avenger’s level. Nat designed them.”
Natasha nods in confession. “I’m surprised you survived them. Nice work.” It’s a dry compliment, but it’s more than Natasha gives anyone, so it warms you.
“Yes, it was illegal earlier to try to escape with Bucky, but the fact that you are still standing here, that’s skill.” Tony stands from his chair to walk toward you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You have the capability to be one of the best. You already are.”
You shake your head. “Tony, this is insane.”
“And so are you, if I do say so myself,” he jokes, removing one hand, but keeping the other to squeeze your shoulder comfortingly. “No one jumps off of buildings with Cap like that, like it’s nothing. You’re just as crazy as the rest of us.”
“Alright, fine, I’ll sign it,” you shrug his hand away, hiding your grin for now. “But I’ll need to think about the whole being an Avenger thing.”
“Deal,” Tony agrees, clapping his hands. “And Secretary,” he turns to Ross. “One more revision that I know Cap will want when he gets here: if we feel we need to go somewhere, we have to go. You can’t stop us.”
Secretary Ross doesn’t look pleased. “Tony, we talked about this.”
“No, but he’s right,” you step in. “It’s better to have the Avengers go somewhere they’re not needed, than to have them sitting at home when someone out there needs their help. It’s better to be safe than sorry, you know that.”
Secretary Ross thinks it over. He shares a look with Everett, who merely shrugs his shoulders in defeat. 
“Done,” he caves. “I’ll have that fixed. Now, where are they?”
“I’ll be bringing them in,” you reply firmly. “And I need to see that you’re true to your word, so this new Accords is going to be brought in and signed by the three of us,” you gesture to Tony, Natasha, and yourself, “and you,” you point at Secretary Ross. “No games.”
“No games,” he agrees. “I will be back with the new Accords.”
On that note, he exits the room, and so does Everett, though Everett does it more in the fashion of a stomping toddler. You roll your eyes when he glares at you through the glass.
“Good work, kiddo,” Tony praises, pulling you into a hug. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks,” you laugh. “And please tell me you were pulling my leg. I can’t be an Avenger.”
“Oh, that? No, I’m dead serious, sweetheart. We need you.”
“Hate that I’m agreeing with him,” Natasha chimes, a smirk on her lips. “But we do. I really wasn’t expecting you to make it through those training sessions, but when Tony told me you needed more, I was...shocked. Even Steve can’t get through those sometimes.”
Despite Natasha’s added praise, you still aren’t sure. “I still need to think about it. A lot.”
“Think away,” Tony urges. “But we’ll be waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you shove his shoulder. It’s strange, acting so carefree and laughing right now when somewhere in an abandoned building, Steve, Sam, and Bucky are waiting for your call.
Bucky. You need to talk to him. You need to let him know that it’s okay that he doesn’t want to get to know you. Part of you hopes he’ll change his mind, but you know better now than to let that hope consume you.
Instead, you tune back into the conversations at hand. Natasha telling Tony about Secretary Ross’s face when you were going off on Everett. It’s enough to make even T’Challa laugh.
You trust your gut in knowing that everything is alright with Bucky, that they’re still just playing the waiting game. He seems at peace right now, maybe even slightly happy. You wonder what they could be talking about.
+++
“You know, when I told her that your favorite thing to talk about was her, she thought I was crazy.”
“Really?” Bucky feels himself smiling. “It’s the truth, though.”
“I know, that’s what I told her. I still don’t think she believed me,” Steve shakes his head. “I walked her home that first night, and started doing it every time we talked.”
“Good,” Bucky says without even thinking. He freezes after he says it, realizing the tone he just took on.
“I told her you’d kill me if I didn’t protect your girl,” Steve says quietly. “I guess I was right.”
Bucky’s smile deepens, but he doesn’t reply. Sam returns from his jog to say that they’ve given up on the search.
“I just watched three helicopters turn and head back. That’s gotta mean something good, right?”
As if on cue, Steve’s phone rings, and it’s you. He holds up the device to show the other two men. “I guess so.”
+++
Secretary Ross stays true to his word and brings back the revised Accords. To your surprise, he has everything listed, and is the first to sign.
Tony is next. Then Natasha. Finally, you sign the document. Spaces are left for the others, but you’re more than pleased that Secretary Ross is done playing games.
You call Steve to let him know things are settled and that you and Tony are on your way.
Once you arrive, Sam has to offer a sarcastic remark, “Took you long enough,” as he climbs in the backseat of the car. Bucky and Steve slide in beside him, both looking more like best friends than you’ve ever seen before.
Tony waits until they’re seated before taking off. You turn around in your seat to face them.
“So, Secretary Ross’s only stipulation is that every Avenger has to sign this one. But we amended it so they can’t stop us from going somewhere that we’re needed,” you nod to Steve, “and you’ll get your wings back, too, don’t worry,” you smirk at Sam. Finally, your eyes meet Bucky’s. “And you’re pardoned. Fully. I convinced them to see the light, so you don’t need to worry about anything from your past. Secretary Ross did add a clause that states you have to seek psychological help, but it’s fully funded. And I think that’s better than going to prison, you know.”
The slight humor in your words causes Bucky to smile, and you can’t help it when you feel your own lips stretching.
“Thank you,” Bucky says quietly, keeping eye contact, wanting you to know he’s being sincere. “And I’m sorry.”
You blink, forgetting for a moment that Tony, Sam, and Steve are sitting around you guys. For a moment, all you know is Bucky.
“Thank you,” you whisper, fighting back the tears. And as usual, you have to immediately follow it with some humor. “So...does that mean you’re done pretending you don’t know who I am?”
Bucky grins before he can stop himself. “I’ll never do that again, doll. You’re hard to forget, even after all these years.”
Tony clears his throat, effectively full-throttle slamming you and Bucky back to reality.
You quickly turn around in your seat, sinking down as far as you can go and ignoring Tony’s knowing smile.
There’s still more to talk about, things to work out, but at least-- at least he knows you.
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slugtranslation-hypmic · 4 years ago
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Your thoughts on the anime made me smile like an idiot bc i can relate to it sm ToT
I watched the first episode with subtitles (and a friend - it’s always more fun with a buddy) so I am back with MORE thoughts: Subtitle Edition. Idk if they will be interesting to anyone, but here’s a sampling from the notes I took.
The Hypnosis Mics are not treated as proper nouns. They’re also called solely “mics”, never microphones. I thought this was a really unusual choice (and fwiw, although you can’t usually tell because of the fonts we use, the Hypmics are proper nouns in the manga).
It turns out an “act” and a “law” are not perfect synonyms of each other, so “H Law” (Funimation) is technically more correct than “H Act” (me). Oops.
Not sure how I feel about “Brother Ichi”. It certainly works for “Ichinii” and is pretty cute, but I do really dislike having siblings call one another “Brother” or “Sister”. While this is not always the case (especially in Asian-American households), it’s atypical for Americans to call their siblings that. I know there’s no exact reason Japan has to stick exactly to American English (and I’d REALLY like to talk sometime about some thoughts I’ve had in regards to removing my natural regiolect (regional dialect) from translation and/or creating a “new regiolect” purely for J -> E translation), but it does stick out like a sore thumb in otherwise American English.
Speaking of Brother Ichi, “Brother Ichi’d never lose” made me make this exact face:
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I was surprised by how much characters in the MTC sequence used the word “fuck”. I’ve been learning (slowly - I have a natural potty mouth) that excessive swearing can very easily lead to your translation sounding quite childish, even if it would fly quite naturally in real life. This certainly didn’t sound childish, but I kept going, “Oh my god. Can they get away with that?” Loved the “fucking maggots” from Samatoki.
Juuto has a catchphrase in Japanese (やれやれ) that I’ve been using as either “Good grief” or “Good lord”. He didn’t say it in Japanese as far as I heard, but I did see the translation use “Oh my” for him at one point. I wonder if they’ll continue to use that going forward.
I take character voice very seriously for Hypmic, which means I will occasionally make some fairly arbitrary decisions in order to have each character sound unique and not simply various different shades of “me” speaking. (For instance, Sasara uses “man” rather excessively in English mostly because I started writing him that way due to a casual tone of voice and then it stuck. There’s nothing really in Japanese that suggests he should use that more frequently, but it’s there because it served me a purpose in English.) It’s veeeeery interesting for me to see someone else approach these characters and create their own voices for them, especially because the voices we’re writing match up a lot. Ramuda’s use of “pretty please” made me think of this, but other characters kind of surprised me too. Their Jakurai sounds a lot like mine (albeit a bit more forceful, which is a bit closer to the original imo) too, so much that I was kind of surprised when he said something I normally think of as a Gentarou line. I had to remind myself, “Duh, it’s not me writing this.” Still, it’s fascinating to me to watch someone else start out on their own and end up with relatively similar conclusions.
That being said. The elephant in the room. Gentarou. I’m kind of on the fence on whether or not I liked those choices. Gentarou speaks in Japanese with occasionally archaic language and (almost always) formal language. The archaic language he uses is called bungo, aka literary Japanese, which hasn’t been widely spoken or used since the early 20th century. Gentarou uses it because he’s - ding ding, you guessed it! - an author. Now, I know that I’m just biased... because I translate for another series which is written in a much more obnoxious hybridization of bungo and modern Japanese... but I don’t think Gentarou is that heavy of a bungo user to really necessitate the entire “thee” and “thou” thing. I also don’t particularly enjoy using these excessive archaisms for bungo because 19th - 20th century English literature doesn’t sound like this. It sounds more like extremely formal and verbose modern English, so I prefer to use that and throw in some outdated words from time and time again for similar effect. Of course, one could argue that 19th/20th century Japanese literature isn’t necessarily an exact approximation of 19th/20th century English literature, but bah, humbug. I don’t think anyone but me gives a damn about this anyway. Overall, I liked his speech style quite a bit besides that.
Also really enjoyed the use of “wee bit leery of lending more”. The “wee” almost suggests a British accent, and I will be the biggest advocate of British English Gentarou until the day I die. The choice of dialect can make or break a translation (would love to talk about this sometime too), and using British English for him among an otherwise American English-speaking cast would be STELLAR and BRILLIANT.
I was not at all fond of the use of “D’oh!” as one of the little “Gh!” or “Urp!” noises. Sound effects don’t tend to make, but they can absolutely break a translation. (Also know that I criminally awful at sound effects, so this is the pot calling the kettle black.) “D’oh!” brings to mind Homer Simpson, which is okay for Dice, but not... not good at all for Hifumi. Funimation subber, if you are reading this... I’m sorry... I don’t... I don’t like it...
slaps the table with both hands GOD, “COFFEE AND CHILL” IN THE FLING POSSE RAP IS SUCH A BRILLIANT LINE. (Original was “珈琲タイム” iirc - lit. coffee time) (Also while I’m here, I love the fact that “coffee” is written in Gentarou’s bungo whereas “time” is written in the style of Ramuda’s English loan words. Even the way the lyrics appear onscreen is a mixture of FP’s various styles.) This is such a quick and easy way to provide background about Ramuda’s flirtatious nature and put in a bit of harmless innuendo that often appears in Ramuda songs. This also handily explains the entire “Want to go grab a bite to eat?/How about we get a cup of tea?” thing that appears often in Japanese but is less natural in English. Who thought of this? You’re a genius. You deserve a medal.
I have Jakurai use phrases containing the word “I” a lot (in phrases like “I suppose that x”, “I’m afraid that y”, etc) as a way of softening his speech and making it sound like he’s more ... personally responsible for the words coming out of his mouth, I guess. The translator used quite a bit of those similar phrases, as I mentioned previously, which surprised me a good bit. They also used the phrase “I assure you” which is AN AMAZING line for Jakurai. It gives him a much firmer tone than I normally write him with but also suggests by way of similar sounds “reassuring” the listener and overall making him sound more confident and capable. This is so good. I’m going to steal it.
Overall, I thought it was a really solid translation with a lot of thought clearly put into it. I’m excited to see more work from this subber. Mr. Josh Cole, you are killing it. Huge shoutout as well to Kotonoha Consulting and Sarah Alys Lindholm for their work with the lyrics. Incredibly strong effort. Loved it.
On the other hand, it was a bit affirming to me to see that the quality wasn’t vastly different from some of my latest efforts. There were none of the awkward lines which are still prone to crop up in my work, and it was a good bit more creative than what I can normally produce. Additionally, Hypmic is, relatively speaking, fairly easy to translate if you ignore the god damn raps. All that being said... of course I won’t have the same experience as someone who has quite literally been working in Japanese teaching or translation for as long as I’ve been alive, but it’s enough to make me think that I can, conceivably, start selling my work for money in a couple more years. Whoo. Have to celebrate the little victories.
I’m so sorry to anyone who started reading this in the hopes that it would get interesting. It didn’t.
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dreamdropsystemarchive · 3 years ago
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Oh! Rapid switching sounds pretty hard to deal with.. I hope you guys are doing well!
It's okay if you guys don't get back right away too! I don't mind waiting a little bit.
I mostly just block them, but sometimes I want to be mean to them. But other than that I've met a lot of nice people!
Oh I have a few ribbons too. They're mostly for reading and stuff though. It's still better than not having anything! But you guys deserve a medal for being so awesome! 🏅
Ohh yeah. That sounds like a lot. I'll still check it out! If you guys like it, then I'll watch it! And ooh it sounds interesting! I'll have to check it out. Stuff can be hard to find on youtube, but anime is pretty easy to find there I think. And that's okay! I don't read a lot of mangas anyway, other than Junji Ito. And me too! Dark anime and manga are my favorite.
Me too! I like drawing sometimes. it can be fun. And you're welcome! Y'all deserve it (I don't remember what I said tho lol)
And ohh I've seen that a few times. It seems really helpful. Emotions are hard to read sometimes.
How are you guys doing? (My head is hurting. I don't know what happened, but I hope y'all are well!)
- 🌺
hello 🌺 anon! so sorry we didnt see your ask! we apologize. rapid switching does suck >.< very confusing.
thank you for waiting so sorry again for the late reply
we dont have our ribbons anymore but yes ^^ lovely. thank for the metal.
please do. we like a wide range of content incuding dark content. manga/anime/tv/comics etc etc.
yes drawing is a good coping mechanism for us so we use it when we have the energy.
i was in the main headspace for a while (2 days) and it was actually nice. not everyone is doing well but we were giving each others support. now im fonting im cocon with the othe Shanes but thats it. Tobias was out and drew with me some. it was nice. not doing to well atm.. sorry. how are you? - adult Shane
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S.....Sooga.....tiddie fucking........Heheheh
Simple, effective, genius. Let’s fucking go.
“Something tells me Master Kohga isn’t happy today.”
“No fucking shit.”
Kohga had walked back outside from his council with Princess Zelda. Ever since the defeat of Ganon, the Yiga and the royal family have been trying to work together. As in, try to bribe them to stop killing both the king and his daughter. Kohga didn’t HATE Zelda (Sooga often recalled the times he called her ‘a sweet gal’), but he still hated the royal family. This made him bring rather unreasonable demands to the table, and of course he was told no. This led to rather fierce tantrums on his end, but this was the first time he had actually stormed out of the hall. Sooga joined his master’s side, followed by the two previously bickering blademasters. Zelda tried to follow him, asking that he listen to reason. Kohga suddenly stopped in the hallway, pointing at both her, and Link.
“Look. I respect you guys, really. But your royal BULLSHIT has been affecting my people for TOO long! I was not taught my skills by my fathers mothers father, just to flop over the SECOND you want me to! I won’t!”
Kohga stomped his foot on the plush carpet floor, before grumbling angrily, turning to what he thought was the exit. Granted it was the library, but his point was made. Somewhat. Zelda tried to follow him, when Sooga stopped her in her tracks.
“Master Kohga is a proud man. You must let his anger take his course. Please, allow me to dissipate his anger, he will be ready to listen to you after, Princess.”
He received a nod from both little blondes. Sooga nodded at both Blademasters, making them stand by and guard the door. Sooga walked inside of the library, seeing Kohga standing there, forehead against a bookshelf. Sooga cleared his throat, alerting his master of his presence. That seemed good enough for him to pull away, and start his rant.
“I love how ZELDA just has to be a princess AND my friend! I’M more important than some stupid royal crap, right?!”
As usual, Sooga stood there, and nodded. He was ever an ear for Kohga, and Sooga never forgot a single rant of his master (upon his demands). Kohga started pacing back and forth in front of him, throwing his arms around and stomping around the floor.
“She acts like my cause is nothing! No one asks the Yiga clan, ‘hey, how much an ass WERE those royals from so long ago?’ They act like we do this stuff for fun! And no one takes me SERIOUSLY!”
That was enough for Kohga to smack a random book off a table. Even now, in having his little fit, Kohga was incapable of actually damaging someone’s property. Not because he was scared of punishment, but because he genuinely found the library to be Zelda’s personal stuff. He was grumpy, he was impatient, but he was incredibly kind, considerate. Kohga finally stopped, hopping up on a table, and folding his arms across his chest, grumbling something fierce. Sooga waited, just in case he wasn’t done, before he gave a small nod.
“Master Kohga. Things are changing for the better. Nothing about this has been, nor will it ever, be easy. But whatever does happen, you must know that you are respected, and you are revered, especially to us. I apologize for the disrespect you have been given. You deserve all of Hyrule, truly.”
That seemed to at least stop the grumbling. But Kohga was too upset to even LOOK at Sooga right now. Kohga really only wanted one thing; respect. It was something Sooga wished he could give his master more of. But, he already gave him all he had. This meant he’d have to cheer his master up by less...conventional means. Sooga hated royals as much as he did, but he wanted peace from them both. He HAD to make something work here. He knelt down in front of Kohga, and despite his nerves eating away at him, he knew what he had to do.
“Master Kohga, I would...like to help you feel better. May I?”
Kohga seemed confused on just what he meant, but he nodded anyway, clearly interested. Sooga nudged himself between his master’s legs, pressing his face into his big, beautiful belly, and his chest right up against his cock. Kohga took only a second to piece together what was happening, and he nearly roared in laughter.
“Sooga! I’m surprised at you! Here? Now?”
Sooga gave a soft nod, a bit in disbelief himself.
“You have so much tension. Besides, doing something like this in the very castle seems like something scandalous enough for you.”
“Hey. You’re making me sound like a pervert. I mean I am, but still.”
Sooga had a slight chuckle at that. He could already tell his Master’s mood had improved tenfold. Sooga pulled away a bit, helping his Master’s cock out of his uniform, lightly stroking it in his palm. He had Kohga’s full attention now, and even though Sooga had initiated this, he felt as if he had been seduced into it.
“So, what exactly were you thinking? Blowjobs? Handjobs?”
Sooga almost thought about doing those things, but he decided against it. Blowjobs meant his mouth would be exposed here, and handjobs alone wouldn’t remove this kind of anger festering in his Master’s heart. No, he needed something to wow him, something that let him be in control. So, despite how lewd it was, Sooga placed his cock right at his chest, and pushed his titties (he liked to call them pecs, but even he had to admit they were so large, ‘pecs’ didn’t really suit them) together. Kohga actually seemed to be at a loss for words, before suddenly snickering.
“You’re ACTUALLY serious. I get to fuck THESE puppies here?”
“I’ve told you before, my body is yours to command. Every part of me is entitled to you. And I’ve….well. I’ve thought about this before.”
“You like thinking about me, don’t you Sooga?”
Kohga was already getting hard for him. Sooga pushed and rubbed his chest together, nearly smothering his poor master’s cock. Even though Sooga was VERY familiar with Kohga’s dick, it still made him nervous, feeling the hot, semi hard appendage brush up against his skin, separated by just the thin clothing of his uniform. Sooga nodded, trying not to drool at the sight of his cock reappearing between his cleavage.
“I do. I very much do. I’ve always thought how nice it’d be, if you deemed my body worthy enough to satisfy you.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. You’re such a good boy like that.”
Kohga actually felt like participating this time around; moving his hips a bit forward to really push his cock in between them. It wasn’t long before Kohga’s cock was twitching, smearing precum between Sooga’s massive chest. It made a wet, dirty sound, that when combined with Kohga’s moans of approval, made Sooga go mad. HE was making his master feel this good. HE was making him pant like that. Sooga would have preferred to go slow, but he knew Kohga. He liked quick, passionate movements, actions that made his partner seem desperate to please. It was why Sooga kept pushing his chest together quickly, it was why he even moved his chest from side to side. It was humiliating, but Sooga liked it. He liked it for not just the fact that it was making Kohga happy, but for-
“You work so hard for me, Sooga. When no one else wants to make me feel better, you’re there. You listen to me, you give yourself to me. You’re such a good boy.”
That. Sooga loved making him happy, loved being good and obedient. Kohga was endless in his praise, cooing them so sweetly, running his fingers across his scalp, and even pulling at his hair, just to really remind him who was running this ship. It was why Sooga was not above grabbing and moving his chest around as he was, like he was some kind of filthy little whore. Sooga had enough respect to not deem himself as such, but he had enough love (and lust), to be willing to do that for Kohga. Kohga grabbed at his hair again, making Sooga’s actions skid to a halt. Kohga was getting closer and closer, why did he-
“Stop, just for a minute. Look up at me with that pretty face. Just like that. Now, pinch your nipples. Nice and hard. Good boy.”
Sooga felt a bit of shame, actually finding himself enjoying the tight, firm pinches he was giving to his already sensitive nipples.  But the way Kohga chuckled, the way he greedily gripped onto his locks? He didn’t regret a single thing.
“You like my cum, don’t you Sooga? You like it so much, you keep finding excuses to have it. The night after the party, the times I tried to punish you, and even the times you snuck into my room.”
Sooga suddenly felt tense. Oh no. 
“M-master Kohga, I can explain-”
“I wasn’t done. I know you sneak into my room when I sleep. I know sometimes you just check up on me, make sure I’m safe, and you even cover me if I get cold. But sometimes. Sometimes you want to taste my cum so badly, you’ll sit there and touch youself to me. I’ve seen you there, pumping your cock and grabbing at your fat tits, just picturing how you could get it out of me. And the fact that I KNOW you’ve been doing that, just made you so fucking hard, didn’t it?”
Sooga nodded, even though there was slight shame in it. He meant no harm by his actions, honestly. It was just, hard to resist such temptations. Kohga chuckled, giving a small shake of his head.
“Well. I don’t mind. I don’t mind one itsy bitsy bit. You know why? Hmm?”
He paused, for dramatic affect, before a devilish snicker came from his lips.
“Becase as much as you love taking my cum, I love, just as much, giving it to you. Now, rub those titties together for me, and earn my load.”
Sooga was back at it again before he could finish his sentence. He rubbed his slick, hot tits together, putting as much enthiusm and speed against his head as he could. Kohga was right; he wanted his cum, and he wanted SO much of it. He wanted to earn the right to be covered in it, earn the right to sport it across his features like a medal of honor. And as he heard Kohga grumble, as he saw his fingers dig into the table, he received just that. Spurts of cum came from his Master’s lovely cock, decorating his tits, and even dribbling down to his stomach. It was hot, creamy, and absolutely perfect. Kohga gifted him with a plentiful amount, and Sooga was almost sad when Kohga seemed to finish giving it to him. He even kept pressing his chest together, hoping to squeeze out more from him. Even as Kohga sat there, in the midst of a cooldown, Sooga found himself unable to stop. It wasn’t until Kohga snapped his fingers, that he finally put a halt to it. Kohga grinned, lightly flicking the other’s forehead.
“You love doing all the hard work for me. And I love that.”
“Love it enough to re consider the princess proposal?”
Kohga sighed, before giving a small nod.
“Yeah yeah...for YOU, I’ll go back in there, give it another shot. Not that you’re making me.”
“Of course not, Master Kohga. You’re merely kind enough to heed my plea.”
“Hey...don’t you start talking like that. You’re getting a bit too smart, Sooga.”
He could tell his Master was most amused. They spent a good minute cleaning Sooga up, and after Kohga got himself a fistful of that ass, they both came back outside, just in time to catch Zelda and Link about to leave.
“Princess, Goldilocks! Listen, I talked a bit with Sooga here, let’s try the whole meeting thing again, yeah?”
Zelda’s excitement was palpable. As Kohga joined them both back to the meeting room, the Blade masters looked at Sooga, bewildered.
“How did you make him change his mind?”
“I do not ‘make’ our master do anything. I merely took a load off of his mind.”
A big, BIG load off of his mind.
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adorablele · 5 years ago
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thief; l.dh
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↬ genre; fluff // soulmate!au
↬ word count; 3.4k+
↬ summary; you drunkenly sing to Donghyuck when you first met him, and he sings the same tune back to you a year later 
↬ a/n; so HAPPY HAECHAN DAY,, he deserves all the love in the whole entire universe! and this isn’t as long as we’re just friends (but it’s real close) AND it’s fluffy!! anyways, this is an au where only your soulmate knows the same tune as you (it’s unique to each pair of people who have this mark). please enjoy :))
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There was someone trying to break into your house.
Or more so, someone was trying to break into your brother’s house. Your eyes roamed around the room, looking for something you could use as a weapon. Your phone was charging in your room, and, currently, you were binge-watching on the couch. 
“I just wanted to enjoy Disney plus,” you muttered to yourself, still salty that your brother has had an account for months and didn’t share this information with you until yesterday. He used some excuse about this being your ‘welcome back’ gift when you asked him why he didn’t tell you about it earlier. You really wanted to watch Ratatouille while you were in France.
You caught sight of the baseball bat your brother kept in the glass case near his other medals and trophies. You snorted at 10 year old Mark’s cheesy grin as he held up his trophy for winning the county spelling bee. 
The clicking of the door reminded you of the dangerous situation you were in and you quickly grabbed the bat, hiding under the dining room table. 
The door opened. 
You tightly clutched onto the bat, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. You heard the criminal wander into the living room, muttering something about ‘who would watch this?’ before he changed the channel.
You fought your instincts to jump the guy right then and there, waiting until he wandered past the dining room table. You stuck out the bat, the criminal tripping and falling to the ground. Jumping out from your hiding spot, you pointed the bat at the groaning stranger.
The words in your throat died, your heart dropping. You pushed his chin with the bat, trying to get a good look at his face. But you didn’t need to see his face to know it was him. 
-
“Why didn’t you tell me that someone else, besides you, had access to your house?”
Mark scratched the back of his head, It slipped my mind?”
You rolled your eyes, arms crossed as you looked over at Donghyuck who sat on the couch. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, some show playing on the TV. He laughed obnoxiously.
“So why’s he here? At,” you checked the time, “two in the morning?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Sometimes he just randomly visits.”
“Yo, Hyuck!” your brother walked over to him, “why’re you here buddy?”
You trailed after Mark, taking the grocery bags he was holding.
Donghyuck planted his feet on the floor and placed a hand on his chest, jaw dropped as he stared wide-eyed at mark. “You mean,” he paused, “you don’t remember?”
Mark sighed, “It’s two in the morning and I had to do a late night snack run because someone,” he looked over to you who was digging through the grocery bags, “needed snacks to eat while binge-watching.”
You just smiled, opening a chip bag, ignoring the way Donghyuck commented ‘cute’. 
Donghyuck tsked, “how could you ever forget something as important as this?”
You looked over at Mark who tiredly shrugged.
“I guess the day I blessed this earth isn’t important,” the boy sighed, dramatically laying down the couch with a hand over his forehead.
“Oh,” Mark tilted his head, “it’s already your birthday? I thought it was in two days.”
“And to think I once called you my best friend,” Donghyuck sighed, turning his head.
You snickered, adding another chip in your mouth. Was he always that dramatic? 
(“Excuse me?”
Donghyuck walked towards you with a hand over his eyes and another one reaching forward, swishing back and forth to make sure he didn’t run into anything. You placed a hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”
He shook his head, “no.”
“Uh, what happened?” you asked, placing down the bottles you were holding.
“I was blinded,” he cried.
“Oh no! How?”
“By your beauty,” he smirked, removing his hand. 
You instantly let go of him, lips lined straight. He blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the light.
“Yeah, so I’m going to need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”)
“I’m sor-” 
Donghyuck suddenly sat up, “it’s okay, I know what you can do to make it up to me.”
Mark raised a brow, “oh yeah?”
He nodded, “throw me a surprise party!”
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You stifled back your yawn. “Alright, well I had plans to study today, but um,” you gave him a small smile, “since it’s your birthday, we can skip that.”
He shook his head, “it’s okay, don’t let me ruin your education.”
His thoughtful eyes made your stomach flutter, the memory of that night starting to resurface. You nodded, “to the library I guess.”
And in that brief moment when Donghyuck acted serious, you thought that you’d have a peaceful time at the library. You were wrong.
“This is boring,” he complained for the nth time.
“I suggested something different,” you paused your typing, “but you insisted that I not sacrifice my education to make you happy.”
“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” he muttered.
(You stared at the boy, unimpressed with his exaggerated gesture.
“Impressive,” he smiled, “I know.”
All you wanted was a distraction, not this guy with his pointy birthday hat. You smacked your lips, picking back up the bottles of alcohol before making your way to the exit.
“Woah, hey, where are you going with my alcohol?” he asked, standing in front of you.
“Your alcohol?”
“I’m the birthday boy,” he smiled, pointing to the ‘birthday boy’ party hat he was wearing, “also known as, the party host.”
“You hosted your own birthday party?”
“Well, my roommate did, but I did buy that alcohol,” he told you, taking the bottles from your hands.
He opened the fridge, “How about some ice cream instead?”
“That doesn’t drown out my memories,” you frowned, reaching for the bottles again.
He shoved a tub of ice cream in your hands, “No, but they give you brain freezes.”
“That doesn’t compare to the pain in my heart,” you scowled, shoving the ice cream back towards him.
He chuckled, “Edgy.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’ll just have the spiked punch.”
“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “what about using me as a distraction, instead of, you know, alcohol.”
You actually considered his offer, the word ‘okay’ lingering on your tongue, but it never got the chance to escape.
“Hey, there you are!” some guy shouted, “hiding out in the kitchen, I see.”
The guy smiled at you, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to steal the birthday boy from you for a moment.”
“Looks like you’re needed elsewhere,” you told Donghyuck, making sure to take the bottles from his hands before his friend dragged him away.)
Your heart melted at the way he cutely laid his head down in boredom. “If you don’t distract me, then we can leave here in thirty minutes.”
You fought the urge to smile as he perked up, sitting up and nodding with determination.
However, ten minutes pass and you’re not sure if you can finish up in the time you said you would. In the last hour and a half that the two of you spent at the library, Donghyuck wouldn’t shut up, constantly commenting on everything and anything as he looked through your work. Now, he just stared at you, taking in every little movement.
“Didn’t anyone tell you that staring is rude?”
“I’m just admiring art,” he shrugged.
You didn’t have to look at him to know he gazed at you with the same soft brown eyes from a year ago.
“It’s distracting,” you muttered.
After an excruciating 60 seconds, he turned his attention to his phone.
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“When are we going to eat an actual meal?” you asked Donghyuck, choosing not to comment on how he hasn’t let go of your hand ever since the two of you left the library.
His free hand picked up another perfume, “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” you pouted, patting your stomach.
He chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned towards you, fairly close to your face. Your eyes widened, heart speeding up. After a moment of simply staring into your eyes, he stepped back and placed the perfume back on the shelf. 
“That’s not the same one,” he commented.
“What?”
“We looked at all the perfumes in this place, and not one is a match,” he frowned.
“A match for what?”
“To your favorite perfume,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He continued walking down the aisle, wandering into the cologne section. 
You watched as he continued to sniff around. “Why do you care?” 
“Because,” he sprayed another bottle, “I owe you a bottle.”
He remembered? 
(You scoffed, shaking the last empty alcohol bottle. “You’re gone already?”
Grumpily, you got up. As you stumbled out of the bathroom, you noticed your ex down the hall, walking towards you. 
“Yeah, I'll be back, I gotta use the bathroom,” they called out.
Your eyes widened and you pulled the nearest stranger into the bathroom with you.
“Can I help you?” 
You didn’t answer him, taking the drink in his hand and gulping it down. When you finished it, you handed the cup back to him. “Yes, you can get me more.”
Donghyuck shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough.”
“Enough?” you slurred, “I’m still sober!”
“You can’t even walk.”
“Yes, I-” you stumbled after the first step, falling into his arms.
“I rest my case,” he muttered, lifting you up on the sink.
“My mind isn’t...I haven’t forgotten yet,” you mumbled, head lolling to the side.
He stared at you for a moment before opening the medicine cabinet. You watched as he scanned the shelves muttering to himself about what he could use to distract you.
“That’s my favorite perfume!” you excitedly pointed at the unopened pink bottle.
“This?” he handed it to you, amused at the way your eyes lit up like a child opening a present.
“Yeah,” you enthusiastically told him.
Donghyuck closed the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, “Really? My sister bought it to gift to her friend.”
You sadly smiled at the bottle, “I ran out of this two days ago.”
He lifted your chin, “If we ever meet again, I’ll buy you a bottle.”)
You took the bottle of cologne from him and placed it back on the shelf. “I still have some left. Plus, it's your birthday. I should be getting you something.”
He thought for a second, “I guess you could treat me to lunch.” 
With that, his hand tightened around yours and he dragged you off to a cafe nearby.
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“What did I tell you about staring?” you told him, eyes still focused on the menu.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer?” he suggested, wiggling his phone.
“Don’t take a picture of me,” you deadpanned.
He smiled, “Too late.” You heard the shutter of the camera and you reached across the table for his phone.
“Delete the picture!” 
“You’re going to knock over the drinks!” he warned, causing you to pause.
You frowned, sitting back in your seat. After a moment of you glaring at him, he sighed, “Give me your phone.”
“What, why?” you asked, placing a protective hand over your phone.
“Just, trust me,” he smiled, sticking out his hand.
“You know I don’t trust you, right?” 
He sighed, standing up and sitting next to you, grabbing your phone before you could process what’s happening. He held up your phone and basically gave himself a photo-shoot using your phone. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the photos that he took.
“Why did you take so many?” you asked, turning to look at him.
He was already looking at you. Your breath hitched when you realized just how close his face was to yours. His lips looked just as soft as you remembered them.
(Maybe it was the way his promise resonated in your ears, or how sincere his eyes looked, or how plush his lips looked, but you had the sudden urge to kiss him. And when the door opened, you were reminded of why you initially pulled Donghyuck inside the bathroom - to hide you.
If he rejected you, that would be your excuse. With that thought in mind, you pressed your lips against Donghyuck’s. Your heart was uncharacteristically beating fast in your chest because Donghyuck didn’t move. 
“Oh, uh, sorry,” your ex quickly said, unable to see your face.
Once the door shut, you backed away, “Sorry my-”
He cut you off, cupping your face and pulling you in. You melted into his arms. The kiss was firm and way more addicting when he returned the favor. He tasted like beer, along with a hint of something sweet. One hand cupped your face and the other wrapped around your waist. You slipped your arms around his neck trying, attempting to pull him closer as your need for oxygen grew with each passing second.
He pulled away, admiring the fast breaths that pushed past your swollen lips.
“I think your ex is gone,” he muttered, forehead leaning against yours.
“Who cares about him?” you asked in disbelief, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.
You leaned in again.)
You cleared your throat, sitting back and taking your phone from him. 
“It’s taking up a lot of storage,” you softly scolded, thumb hovering over the trash can.
But you knew deep down inside that you didn’t have the guts to delete the photos.
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Everyone cheered as Donghyuck blew the candles. 
“To Donghyuck!” Mark giggled, already drunk. You rolled your eyes at your brother who took another shot. Another round of cheers were heard and Mark nudged you, “Aren’t you going to drink?”
“Someone has to take care of you,” you excused, avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes.
He shrugged, taking the shot for you. 
You patted his shoulder, “Don’t complain to me in the morning when you’re hung over.”
Your eyes wandered back to the birthday boy, his pointed hat sticking out against everyone else’s. He laughed along with his friends. 
You couldn’t get drunk, not when he was here.
(You tugged on his shirt, “Just kiss me.”
Donghyuck hovered above you, “Love, we don’t know each other’s names.”
“y/n,” you quickly said, pulling him down, “your turn.”
He sighed, “Donghyuck-”
You didn’t waste time reconnecting your lips with his. It took all of his willpower to pull away from you, arms extended as he pushed himself up.
You stared at him with a hurt expression, “You don’t want me?”
“No!” he cupped your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, “the complete opposite actually.”
“So why-”
“You’re drunk, y/n,” he softly smiled, “and if in the morning, your feelings are the same, I’ll be more than willing to continue where we left off. After I bring you out on a date, of course.”
He sat up. “But right now,” he removed the throw pillows from his bed, “just rest. I’ll get you something to drink.”)
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“Aren’t you going to sleep?”
You finished tying another trash bag, “Soon.”
Donghyuck picked up the other two trash bags lying next to you, following you out to the trash bins. Both of you were silent until you got back into the house.
“You can go to sleep, you know,” you nodded towards your brother who was passed out on the couch, “you can sleep in his bed.” 
He ignored your suggestion, continuing to help you pick up trash, “You avoided me the whole party.”
“Or maybe you were just having fun with your friends and I was running the party,” you suggested, not looking at him.
“So I didn’t imagine you leaving the room every time I entered?” he asked, pausing to look at you, “or how you suddenly had a conversation with the person next to you every time I smiled at you?”
“Even now, you won’t look at me,” he muttered, going back to picking up trash.
You were silent.
He sighed, “You have something that belongs to me.”
“What?” you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“You’re a thief,” he tsked.
You stared at him in confusion. He solemnly glanced at you, “taking my heart and just running away like that?” 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes before going back to picking up more trash.
“You swept me off my feet when you sang,” he laughed, “which is amazing because you can not sing.”
(“Hey Hyuck,” you hiccuped, eyes blinking slowly.
“Yeah?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you.
“I didn’t get you a gift.”
He chuckled, “You didn’t even know whose birthday it was.”
“But now I do,” you pouted, “so here’s my birthday gift.”
And you started off humming, before using the word ‘do’ to replace the words of the unknown song. Donghyuck’s heart sped up, the tune buzzing in his ears.
“You might not know it,” you said when you finished, “only my soulmate would.”
He knew the song, he knew it well.
“It broke my heart when they didn’t recognize it,” you closed your eyes, voice quieting down, “I really thought they were the one. They turned out to be a jerk who used me to make their actual soulmate jealous.”
And Donghyuck thanks the heavens up above that your ex wasn’t the one.)
You glared at him, “Thanks.”
He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with adoration, “Don’t worry. Despite the off pitch singing, it still seemed magical, like you and I were the only people there.”
“Weren’t we, though?”
He furrowed his brows, “What?”
“The only people in the room?”
He dropped his shoulders, letting out a loud sigh. “I’m trying to be romantic!” he whined.
You chuckled, the first time that he’s heard you laugh since he saw you a year ago. 
“Do you want to know the song?”
You humored the boy, “Okay.”
When he uttered the first note, you instantly knew the song. The various times you mindlessly hummed it passing through your mind. You bit your tongue, opting to listen to his angelic voice rather than join him. He changed the ‘do’s’ into actual words for the last line.
“I couldn’t believe that I fell in love in the city of love,” he looked down at the empty cup in his hand, finishing up the song, “but just as quickly as you appeared, you left. I didn’t even have your number.”
He opened his mouth before closing it, before, again, opening it. He turned to you, “Just an FYI, if you weren’t ready to jump into a relationship, I wouldn’t have forced you.”
(You remembered everything up until the point when he led you to his bedroom, inconveniently forgetting the part where he forced you to sleep rather than take things further. You awoke with a pounding headache, aware of the fact that this wasn’t your room. Donghyuck softly snored next to you, the sun making his skin look ever more beautiful. You brushed the hair away from his eyes, almost tempted to stay with him until he woke up.
But you remembered your broken heart and all the energy you spent while being in a relationship. Last night, you promised yourself that you would take a break, take time to focus on you. I mean, you were in Paris for crying out loud, might as well enjoy it. 
You chuckled, it’s not like you guys were soulmates or anything. With one last glance at Donghyuck, you picked up your belongings and walked out the door.
Even you were soulmates, then you guys would meet again, right?)
“I’m sure you would’ve,” you softly smiled.
He nodded, “but you needed a break, huh?”
“You didn’t need to be a rebound, Hyuck.”
He grinned, “I like it when you call me that.”
“Hyuck?” you repeated, “but everyone-”
“You’re not everyone,” he interrupted, “you’re my soulmate.”
You felt giddiness churn in your stomach, “I like it when you call me that.”
And then you gasped, “I never got you a birthday present!”
He laughed, “Out of all the times, you remember now? It’s not even my birthday anymore.”
You pouted, “I’m sorry! I meant to buy one when you weren’t looking, but you were attached to me the whole day. And then at the party, Mark was drunk so I had to make sure everything ran smoothly-”
“Sweetheart,” that nickname made you forget anything else you were going to spout out, “it’s fine. You gave me the best gift yet.”
“I did?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “you.”
You gave him a ‘really?’ look.
He laughed, “Okay, okay. How about we go on a date tomorrow, or today since it’s like 1 o’ clock?”
You nodded, “Sounds good.”
“Or, we can pick up where we left off,” he winked.
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