#because i’m not about to trash my own team | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshifighting · 2 months ago

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staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

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scarletriddles · 1 month ago

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Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them “…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl��s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

574 notes · View notes

noosayog · 10 months ago

Text

003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine

❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy

❥ wc: 3.4k

❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist

“Good morning, senpai!”

Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.”

“It’s raining hard today, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure is.”

“Did you bring an umbrella?”

“Nah, forgot it.”

“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!”

“Good for you.”

The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?

Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!”

He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day.

“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.”

You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate.

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him.

“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice.

You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot.

Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.”

“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.

Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s.

A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.”

“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.”

“Hey!” the idiot in question protests.

Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”

“Morning, Yakkun.”

“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains.

“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him.

“Yep!”

“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.

In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.

“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks.

“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!”

She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”

You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”

“You like him because he’s tall?”

“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”

“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.”

With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you.

“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.”

“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.”

“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.”

You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.”

Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with.

“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”

“Pass.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.”

–

“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.

Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down.

“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out.

Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!”

Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic.

–

When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom.

You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today.

Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright.

When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through.

“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation.

When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?”

Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-”

Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?”

“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.

“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.”

You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend.

“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.”

Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans.

“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.”

You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo.

As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room.

“All done! Now can I-”

“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.”

“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again.

“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?”

It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.”

You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”

“Everyone?” he smirks.

“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.”

“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.”

“Weasel my way- wait just a second-”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.”

“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back.

This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force.

“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.”

“Great, you can start tomorrow.”

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten.

Hook, line, sinker.

–

Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class.

During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof.

“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.”

“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.”

“What? Slander! I’m committed-”

“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-”

You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word.

“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?”

Kuroo grins. “Coming.”

In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends.

Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company.

One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

–

When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate.

“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you.

“Yep, I plan to.”

“And Kuroo?”

You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off.

Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief.

Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.”

“Who?”

Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home.

The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.

For Senpai, obviously.

Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?”

“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.”

“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?”

“He is not boring!”

“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?”

“... yup.”

“What was that pause?”

“What pause?”

She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook.

–

“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs.

“Can you stop elbowing me?”

“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!”

“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses.

Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?”

“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.”

He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head.

When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo.

He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day.

He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question.

–

At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all.

As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs.

What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture.

Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone.

He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface.

Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you.

The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day.

Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon.

“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?”

“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!”

Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you.

In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name.

Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness.

All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away.

Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go.

He freezes, back still turned away from yours.

It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground.

“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively.

How was he going to get himself out of this one?

So he does what he does best with you.

Cower.

He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth.

“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.”

You blink at him. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-”

A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water.

“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”

As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face.

He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him.

You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you.

“Let go!” you thrash.

But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming.

“They’re for me?” he asks.

“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-”

He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really.

Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across.

You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.”

He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you.

“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.”

Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile.

Instead, you mumble, “die then.”

764 notes · View notes

rageserenity · 9 months ago

Text

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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too-deviant · 9 months ago

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.”

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game.

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time.

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.”

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.”

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.”

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.”

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!”

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train.

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile.

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.”

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.”

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations.

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened.

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all.

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off.

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood.

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch.

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.”

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you.

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?”

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.”

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.”

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later.

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him.

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you.

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.”

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.”

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought.

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all.

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up.

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.”

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless.

“Well…” Connor started.

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued.

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.”

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?”

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word.

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you!

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!”

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.”

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same.

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters.

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look.

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder.

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone.

Then it was a waiting game.

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.”

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.”

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer.

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.”

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees.

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side.

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves.

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height.

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too.

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again.

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit.

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear.

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more.

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head.

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory.

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it.

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else.

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you.

You almost missed Chiron's next words,

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud.

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped.

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that.

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most.

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

��Why does me being seventeen mean anything?”

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore.

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door.

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.”

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged.

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt.

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont.

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry.

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt.

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed.

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow.

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.”

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.”

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?”

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.”

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.”

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.”

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.”

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.”

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears.

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling.

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently.

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.”

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears.

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier.

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile.

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.”

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded.

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.”

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.”

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

#sunny!verse #who gasped #guys tell me this is good #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #@lia’s works #luke castellan x you #thanks to the anon who gave me the idea for her godly parent

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wosoimagines · 10 months ago

Text

Swap - Jessie Fleming/Reader

just a little something for you guys that i've had an idea about for way too long (thank the USWNT v Canada game for this cause it made me remember how much i love Jessie)

prompt: Jessie and R have a long standing tradition of trading jerseys, but someone gets in the way of that.

warnings: none

words: 1,256

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I found Jessie in the crowd. I knew that the game didn’t actually end the way either of us wanted, but at least neither of us could be that upset since we didn’t lose.

“Swap with me?”

My eyes darted away from where they had locked onto Jessie to turn to Eriksson. I tilted my head in confusion. I had never actually talked to Eriksson before other than some light trash talk on the field.

“You want my jersey?”

Eriksson softly chuckled but nodded.

One of the best centerbacks in the game wanted my jersey.

It was still surreal that there were other players out there who would seek me out to get my jersey.

“Well, I feel like it would be fitting considering how much trouble you give me during these derby games and when you play against Sweden.”

“Oh.”

I still didn’t make a move to take my jersey off though. My eyes darted to where Jessie was talking to a couple of her teammates.

“So, how many of her jerseys do you have, and you still haven’t told her how you feel?”

My eyes snapped back to where Eriksson was standing. She was watching me, but I knew that she was aware of who I was staring at.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged as I ducked my head. It honestly was too high of a number to count now. We had gotten into the habit of trading our jerseys at least once a year when we played each other, and, honestly, even when we didn’t play against each other nationally, we still saved each other a jersey from the year. “We just kind of started as teenagers and never stopped. It’s our little tradition now when we play each other the first time of the year to swap.”

“How about this,” Eriksson started, causing me to look over at her, “you go tell Jessie how you actually feel about her, and I’ll wait until the next time we play to swap with you.”

I huffed a little at that. It wasn’t that I didn’t mind telling the world about Jessie and me, but Jessie was such a private person that I didn’t mind keeping our relationship from the world. Besides, our family and most of our friends knew.

Well, at least most of my friends knew. If Jessie’s captain didn’t even know then I wasn’t sure who all on her club team knew. I didn’t even know if any of them knew.

“I’d much rather just break tradition.”

Eriksson raised her eyebrows at that.

It wasn’t often that I would turn down a challenge. But if Jessie’s own teammates didn’t know, then I definitely didn’t want to risk them and the fans finding out about our relationship because I took Eriksson’s challenge.

“Didn’t think it was like you to turn down a challenge.”

“Not usually, no,” I said as I tugged my jersey over my head. “But there are some things that are better left the way they are. My friendship with Jessie isn’t one I’m going to risk for a jersey.”

“Wouldn’t she be more upset that you’re not trading with her?”

I shrugged at that. Jessie probably would be upset with me initially, but I figured she would probably get over it pretty quickly since I knew neither of us would be required to go in tomorrow. We always had the day after derbies off.

“I’ll trade with her next derby. And maybe you could convince Harder to trade with me the game after that?”

“I’ll mention it to Pernille.”

I grinned at that as Eriksson finally pulled her own jersey off. I had been wanting to trade with Pernille Harder for quite some time, but I never had gathered the courage to ask the forward I looked up to. I handed mine over to her as she handed her jersey to me. I wasn’t surprised either when we were asked to pose for a picture with each other.

Once the picture was over, I shook hands with Eriksson.

“You should still tell her,” Eriksson said as she pulled me closer to her. “I think you might be surprised with how she feels about you too.”

“We’ll see.”

Eriksson gave me a pat on the back before she was off towards Harder. I sighed as I shook my head. I turned to try and find Jessie; I wasn’t surprised to find her still with Nimah as they talked with Lotte and Leah. I grinned as I weaseled my way in between Leah and Jessie, but it dropped a bit as Jessie’s eyes darted down to the jersey in my hands before looking at me.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the conversation that the three English players were having as it was obviously more about their next camp. I nudged Jessie before nodding my head towards the tunnels.

Jessie glanced at Nimah before she nodded. I smiled a bit wider at that as the two of us split off with waves to our respective teammates. Jessie stayed quiet as the two of us headed toward the tunnel.

“So, my place or yours?” I asked. Jessie tilted her head to the side as she looked at me. “Well, normally the winner takes the loser home, but we drew.”

Jessie slowly nodded at that.

“Didn’t realize you still wanted to come home with me.”

My brow furrowed at that. I had no real idea why Jessie would think that I didn’t want to go home with her.

“Considering you swapped your jersey with someone else. Thought you of all people would keep with tradition.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You swapped with someone else.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

I huffed because I was sure that we were attracting quite a bit of unwanted attention from fans. I grabbed onto Jessie’s arm as I dragged her into the tunnel finally before heading toward a more secluded area of the Emirates.

“Look, I did it for you.”

“Doing it for me would have been swapping with me.”

“Are you jealous?”

Jessie scoffed at that as she began to shake her head.

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“Are so!”

“You can sleep on the couch then.”

I rolled my eyes at that. I knew that Jessie wouldn’t actually make me sleep on the couch, especially since we hadn’t been able to spend time with each other in the same place since the winter break. Facetime and phone calls only went so far.

“She wanted me to tell you how I felt,” I admitted. Jessie raised an eyebrow at that. “Eriksson. I told her it was tradition for us to switch jerseys and she told me that I could switch with you if I told you how I felt. I didn’t want to put you in the spot where you either had to out our relationship to your teammates if you haven’t told them or where you had to act like you rejected me. I know you want to keep us private from the public eye. So, I figured I could just swap with Eriksson this time and we’ll swap next time.”

“I get it the next time though,” Jessie said as she poked at my chest, “and I guess you can sleep in the bed with me since you did it to make sure that our relationship stayed out of the public eye.”

I grinned at that.

“Does that mean I finally get my kiss from you?”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming imagines #jessie fleming x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #woso imagines #uswnt imagines #arsenal wfc imagines #woso #jessie fleming #uswnt #arsenal wfc

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

Omg yay I love that slightly dirty man!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to do something along the lines of a flower shop au situation, where Carmy is obv still a chef but reader works/owns a place nearby and they end up seeing each other a lot and so on and so forth but also I will devour literally anything about that man so wherever your heart takes you I’m 100% on board <3

He is perfectly dirty! Thanks for requesting babe <3

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 831 words

It’s peak hours, and your shop is completely empty. You’re leaning against the counter by the register, mashing your fingers into your temples and praying to whoever will listen for the noise next door to stop.

It’s some sort of fire alarm, blaring from the shitshow construction zone you’re lucky enough to neighbor. It’s been going since nine this morning. It’s after noon now. No customers will stay long enough to buy anything, not even your regulars who come in looking for a specific book. At this point, you need to either get out of here or get a lobotomy. You head for the side door.

It’s a bad idea. The noise is worse outside, but you’re committed now. You walk paces up and down the alley, blowing puffs of air that cloud in the cold and rubbing your arms because you left your coat inside. You’ve already walked the alley twice when you see him, bare-armed as you but smoking a cigarette like this temperature is just right.

“Hey,” you say, too irritated to be embarrassed, “what the hell is going on in there?”

Carmy shrugs, taking the cig from the corner of his mouth. “The fire alarm won’t stop going off.” Smoke rises into the air as he talks.

“I know. Are you going to do anything about it?”

“We’ve got people on it.”

That’ll mean the Faks, you suppose. You wish this was something you could rage about, but Neil’s a nice guy. He came over to help you board up your window when it broke during a hailstorm last year, and when you brought him a coffee he acted like the beans came from the Garden of Eden.

You take a breath, trying to chill out. “So, are you guys all losing your shit in there?”

Carmy shrugs again. He never really looks at you, you’ve noticed, just sort of near you as if that’s as close as his eyes can get. “Some more than others,” he says. “I don’t mind it.”

“You don’t mind?” you laugh, incredulous. “You must be insane.”

He turns his head to the side, something unidentifiable passing over his expression as he takes a drag. “I know.”

You get the feeling you’ve taken a misstep. You need to say something nice, remind him you’re on the same team. You kick the overflowing dumpster next to you lamely. “Can you believe this shit? They’ve skipped us for two weeks straight now.”

Carmy nods, relaxing somewhat. “It’s bullshit.”

“If they miss us again, I’m gonna have to start bringing our trash to other dumpsters or something. I don’t even know.”

“They won’t miss us again. I’ve got someone making a call.”

You grin. “What are you, part of the mob or something?”

Carmy looks almost like he might be thinking about smiling. You have the urge to take a picture. “My family is Italian,” he says.

“Oh, I know. Richie’s definitely brought it up.”

Carmy blows smoke out, shaking his head in a way you suspect might be fond. “Richie’s not even Italian.”

“Seriously?” A laugh stutters out of you. The wailing siren has faded into the background. You feel lighter than you have all day. “He’s the most Italian guy I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, he definitely thinks he is.”

You look at Carmy for a moment. There’s always this tautness about him, like he’s perpetually ready to run or punch someone. Right now he’s as close to casual as he ever gets, hunched against the alley wall, but however he’s acting you can see the raised hairs of goosebumps on his biceps. His tattooed, very large biceps. You look away before you can get swept away by that line of thinking.

“Well, even though the noise doesn’t bother you, do you wanna get away from it for a sec?” you ask casually. “It’s not so loud in here. You can barely hear it in the back room.”

“Seriously?” Carmy’s looking at you as though this may be some sort of trap. He’s looking at you, and without explanation the world seems to sharpen into startling clarity. You’re suddenly conscious of your heartbeat. “Uh, yeah.” He glances behind him, seemingly wary of one of his coworkers coming out to stop him. “That’d be cool.”

“Okay.” You open the door, nodding to his cigarette. “You can’t bring that in here, though. I don’t need it smelling up my books.”

“Right, yeah.” He snuffs it half-smoked on the alley wall. There’s a slightly awkward moment where it seems like he’s trying to grab the door for you even though you’re already holding it open, but after a second he ducks inside, something that might be embarrassment stiffening his shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.” You let the door swing shut behind you, leading him towards one of the plush couches in the back room. “We’ve got to do what we can to keep each other sane around here, right? A crazy neighbor would be bad for business.”

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my-darling-boy · 5 months ago

Text

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

#needed to get that off my chest it’s been sitting in my drafts and it’s still true #genuinely hate just about everything I’ve produced on this course #like illustration as a course was fine #this one is just depressing #had to almost completely reinvent my art after first year cos this Forced Style threw me off so bad #I am Scared for the future of creativity in academia #wrote a 10000 word essay (for fun) about why the corporate bullshit is contributing to the downfall of art #so needless to say I have my dissertation for my honours already #ok to rb #illustration #design

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crazyk-imagine · 2 years ago

Text

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?"

"That's not a can-do attitude."

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted."

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute."

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you."

"After we go out to lunch."

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open.

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind.

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened.

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again).

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders.

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

You shrug.

"How long?" He asks again.

"A few weeks."

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-"

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises."

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?"

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?"

"You have a few of the signs."

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in.

"A while ago."

"So, you know?"

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house."

"Oh, honey."

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again).

"What do you mean?"

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks.

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since."

"He should know."

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.”

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now."

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away."

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?"

"Yeah."

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this."

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again.

It wouldn’t be the first time this week.

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him.

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please."

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew."

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please."

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door.

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness.

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance.

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you.

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?"

No one responds.

"What fucking happened?"

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all."

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?"

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours.

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you.

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in.

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad.

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened.

"Why is he here?"

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side."

"How did he know?"

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help."

"Isn't family only allowed in here?"

"Apparently you two are engaged."

You owlishly blink. "What?"

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since."

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?"

"I think so."

Jamie moves a little in his sleep.

"That's my cue to leave."

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here."

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up.

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh.

"Sweetheart?"

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad.

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?"

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?"

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat.

"Jam-Jam?"

A sniffle fills the room.

"Jamie, look at me."

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me."

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt."

"No more, Jam-Jam?"

"I was going to tell you."

"What? After the birth?"

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out."

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?”

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once.

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears.

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue.

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.”

“I made one.”

You tilt your head. “What was that?”

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-”

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?”

He nods, scratching his head.

“Come closer.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues.

“Come here.”

He scoots the chair closer.

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?”

He nods.

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave any time soon?”

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.”

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.”

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?”

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-”

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?”

You shamefully shake your head.

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?”

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?”

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.”

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?”

“Not in the least bit.”

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.”

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles.

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence.

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say.

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.”

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.”

He shakes his head.

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug.

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you.

“No. You didn’t.”

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?”

He nods, “’course I do.”

“Give me your hand.”

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you.

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?”

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?”

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.”

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.”

“He?”

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.”

“Everyone?” You repeat.

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.”

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.”

“Hey, hey. Look at me.”

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now.

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.”

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.”

“We can.”

“Atta girl.”

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in.

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment.

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled.

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?”

You smile, “I’m better now.”

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?”

“Yes, coach!”

“And now I’m scared.”

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out.

“Oh fuck.”

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks.

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.”

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.”

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.”

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs.

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend.

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie.

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.”

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand.

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.”

“What’s that?”

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.”

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?”

“No,” Ted shakes his head.

“Not at all, Beard.”

The door opens and heads turn.

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.”

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks.

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud.

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out.

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do.

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap.

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.”

“I’m your dad.”

“We’re your dads,” Beard adds.

You glance over at Jamie.

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.”

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in.

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see.

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks.

“Jaim?”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again.

Ted smiles behind his phone.

“We should probably give them some time alone.”

“You think?” He asks.

Beard nods.

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.”

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off.

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long.

“I think we should name it Jamie.”

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue.

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.”

“Why not? It’s a good name.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?”

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Was that everything?”

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents).

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles.

“Is there a card?”

“I hope so.”

Now you’re confused.

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles.

“I’m lost.”

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair.

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.”

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile.

“And he let you?”

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Yea- really?”

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right.”

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“You lie.”

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine.

“I’m not. I’m just being me.”

“Yeah, and that’s mean.”

He smiles and shakes his head.

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Girls can like boy things too.”

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.”

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.”

He groans, “please stop.”

“Never.”

You stiffle a yawn.

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.”

“But I don’t want to.”

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.”

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.”

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest.

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch.

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier.

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.”

“Jam-Jam?”

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. What were you doing?”

He shrugs.

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x you #crazyk-imagine

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edelfie · 4 months ago

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#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! who’s that girl?

Y/N L/N is a nobody. well, maybe that’s a stretch, but it’s nothing compared to the other words the media uses to describe you. washed up, irrelevant, talentless—any cruel word or insult has or will be thrown your way. but 10 years in the game has forced you to grow thick skin, even if the supposed quality of your music doesn’t suit it. so why is it that today, of all the days, you awake to the worst news imaginable—worse than all the name-calling and jeers?

or, you open twitter. it doesn’t go well.

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this millionaire’s daughter influencer is known for buying many of her followers across all platforms. however, brands and colleagues ignore it because of the fat check lining her pockets.

## this one-of-a-duo A-list model is having business disputes with his other half and sibling. apparently, he wants more creative control over their projects despite having been in the industry for less time. it’s so serious that legal litigation is in the works. [revealed: lev haiba, alisa haiba]

## the not-so-indie band’s newest album is rumored to be about a controversial figure in the industry. this figure has already produced an album about the lead singer years ago, however it failed to garner any publicity.

## off-the-charts wannabe pop star is postponing her next album because her team knows her career is over if she doesn’t chart well. after nearly a decade in the industry and without a single long-lasting, cultural hit, she’s better off waiting tables than writing music. [revealed: Y/N L/N]

gracetheestallion. the haiba twins fighting ?? i can’t believe, like actually

colormeshocked. if y/n doesn’t clutch up rq then i’m gonna be so sad for her — underdawg. honestly, it’s just not fair how she’s treated by the industry — garagoesgaga. it’s “unfair”? she literally only makes trash songs and hooks up with men in relationships, girl bye — underdawg. your misogyny is showing, ugly <3 — garagoesgaga. wowwwww insults, so mature. average iq of a y/n fan

NOTES! —

Two posts in one day? It's more likely than you think! Anyways, today's fundraiser is for the family and sons of Reyna and Javier. Reyna and Javier lost their lives in a fatal crash, leaving their three sons without parents. Of their sons, one of them was dependent on their parents as he has been wheelchair bound all his life. In this brief period of time, he has lost both his parents and his primary caregivers. The entire family is feeling the financial strain of the sudden loss, so every help counts. Please consider donating here on GoFundMe or copy the link and share it online!

If you're new here, or even if you're not since I'm just starting to post again, I strive to bring attention to different fundraisers in all my posts. I primarily focus on sharing the stories of individuals in dire need, such as refugees in Gaza or those experiencing sudden homelessness, however there is no comparison between struggles, grief, and loss here! So I also take the time to share the stories of families such as Reyna and Javier's, and would deeply appreciate it if you could show them some much needed love as well.

I won't say too much, but as someone who has had the cards stacked against them (being a poc, nonbinary, queer, a religious minority, etc.) and has experienced my own share of loss, I can say that while the pain doesn't feel the same, the knife digs itself into you either way. My family was privileged enough to afford a funeral for my grandfather, who recently passed, but with many other family members getting older in age and being taken by the devil that is cancer, it does make me nervous as to how we will make it through. Regardless, I just hope that my plea and the stories I share will implore you to help others—not out of moral or societal obligation or to save face, but out of humanity and compassion <3

SEVEN EVIL EXES + MASTERLIST + NEXT

#༄ — taste #?! — edelfie #//#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #hq smau #smau #hq x reader #hq #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert

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minkkumaz · 1 year ago

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OUR WICKED LOVE

your history with love was a little evil, causing you to aid to your own broken heart. when you finally stray away from the dating scenes, popular boy myung jaehyun asks you out. however, you don't know if he's being truly sincere.

PAIRING myung jaehyun x fem!reader WC 3.1k TAGS fluff. angst. popular boy jaehyun. he needs better friends. reader has fear of heights. misunderstandings. OMI NOTE inspired by queen yena but i might've put shame on her name cuz idk if i like this or not. too tired to proofread, and too tired to care.

love had always been extremely evil. a forbidden force that always ended with you, a broken heart, and multiple wet tissues crumpled up in the trash. you weren’t perfect, but every boy you’ve ever loved taught you a valuable lesson. don’t let the next one fuck you over.

and while your list of lovers wasn’t long, you’d never let it define you; considering many in your grade were already stupid enough to waste their firsts. each boy that seemed to be the one that would sweep you off your feet, left you disappointed and still painfully single.

the never - ending yearning to feel something was simply ignored however, as you decided not to try as hard for your senior year. there wasn’t much of a point on wasting it away on someone you couldn’t guarantee the rest of your life with.

despite this, he made your heart skip a beat, maybe two. it was only last year that he had transferred, and many girls couldn’t keep their gazes off of him.

myung jaehyun, the captain of the sports team, was what could only be described as pretty boy eye candy. talented in multiple departments, and had crazy amounts of energy. most of it sounded too good to be true, but you still admired him a lot.

envisioning someone like him with somebody like you was a difficult task though. he wasn’t normally in the dating scene, so you gave up on the romantic idea.

school rolled around after a long summer. the trees bloomed fragrant flowers that sometimes fell onto the pavement, only to get ran over by passerbys. mornings like these you always got to school a little earlier than usual. first days always excited you.

when you finally arrived at the familiar building, there were big banners and booths for incoming freshman, making you smile. just a little years back you walked into the gates completely clueless. however now was not a time to reminisce, as you were too distracted to see where you were going.

you tripped over your feet, colliding with the person in front of you in the process. hands quickly flew to your side to stablize you so you wouldn’t fall. as you were back up, you quickly bowed and apologized, earning a chuckle from the victim you accidentally fell on.

“it’s okay, be more careful next time, alright?” he spoke in a voice that you remember distinctly, making you shoot your head up to be met with him.

“ah– myung jaehyun! i’m so sorry.” you felt embarrassed before he pat you on the back. “don’t worry about it. you’re y/n, right?” jaehyun questioned, squinting to analyze you a bit more. the sudden attention made you even more nervous than you already were.

“yes, i’m y/n. how did you– how did you know that exactly?” he read the confused expression on your face before cracking a smile.

“you dated that popular senior last year, didn’t you?”

“wow so everyone remembers me from that? he wasn’t my smartest decision.” you laughed, feeling anxiety bubble up in your stomach.

“maybe not, you dropped on the grade list after you guys went public. i only know that because my friend was dying to beat you all year.” he put his hands into his pocket, looking around to see if he could spot his friend.

“i’ll make my comeback this year, now that i’m in books and not his bedroom watching him play valorant.” you scoffed, feeling slightly more competitive.

“i’m sure my friend will be very happy to hear that then.” he joked a bit, “well um, i guess i’ll see you around, y/n.”

you nodded him off, waving a small goodbye before watching him go towards a sports booth. the interaction left you very confused and a little sheepish. your first interaction with the cute boy and you were falling into him.

the best thing to do was ignore it for now, and maybe avoid him for the rest of your life to prevent yourself from humiliation. putting your best foot forward (not the one you tripped over), you walked into the school to find your home room.

it wasn’t difficult, considering you knew the school like the back of your hand at that point. there were a few people that littered the desks, wearing identical uniforms as you did. you sat yourself down at an empty seat, fixing your skirt appropriately.

the atmosphere was quiet despite the loudness from outside, it was still quite early so the first bell wouldn’t ring for another hour. to busy yourself, you pulled a book from your backpack. the hardcover made a quiet noise as you placed it on the desk softly, flipping through the worn pages.

you were immersed in the story at hand, barely noticing how quickly time flew by and how crowded the classroom became. quiet laughter and desks moving around became background noise as your eyes scanned the pages. you wished you had taken note of where all this noise came from, before there was a tap on your shoulder.

“hey, y/n, can i ask you something?” it was jaehyun. he never spoke to you until this morning, and suddenly he was coming back for more? his friends laughed behind him in the background, trying to shut eachother up.

“of course.. what’s up?” you asked suspiciously.

“i was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime? i know we met kind of rocky but you seem pretty cool.” he rolled back and forth on his heels, awaiting a response of some sort.

“oh– um, you want to go out? when were you thinking?” you asked shyly.

“next weekend? the fair is in town and i think it would be fun to take you and get to know you. if you’re down, you know. it’s sudden but a bunch of people from school are going so we could spend the day together.”

any form of words felt like they were suddenly stripped from your throat. you mind told you it was a bad idea, and that it was way too soon. but your heart was telling you yes.

“that sounds nice jaehyun. i’d love to go with you.” you smiled fondly in which he mirrored, handing out his phone for you to input your number. after punching it in, he walked back to the group of his friends to show them your name in his contact lists.

when the school day passed by, you got a moment to properly reflect on what had happened. the myung jaehyun thought your one minute interaction was interesting enough to willingly hang out with you. the same jaehyun that had girls dropping like flies and shoving miscellaneous gifts and letters in his face.

it felt like a prank, some twisted shit that only immature school boys would pull to mess with poor hearts. yet that wasn’t the reputation that jaehyun put out, so you didn’t give it another thought.

the two weeks came and went, but in between it felt like forever. counting down the days that you get to officially hang out with him. but in this time you got to know him more, so in the end, the wait didn’t even matter.

sometimes during class he’d pull his desk by yours and talk to you forever until the bell rang and he had to scurry back. he’d shoot you glances or funny faces everytime the teacher had their back turned, making you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

jaehyun made sure to take care of you too, despite not knowing you for long. he had some sort of motherly instinct, asking if you had eaten or if you’ve been sleeping instead of studying all night. and afterwards, he’d use the excuse that he didn’t want you to die from starvation or lack of rest before he had the chance to hang out with you.

moments like those made you blush, swallowing back any doubt that he wasn’t sincere in wanting to be around you. his friends definitely made an impression that they thought you were lame, but he was different.

through all of this you started to like him, picking up on the small things that happened. how he would laugh too hard he had to grip onto your hand to keep himself from falling over; in which he’d forget to let go. or when he gave you big hugs whenever you helped him understand a stupid grammar question.

maybe you liked him a lot, just after you swore off relationships the school year. after all, your heart moved quicker than your brain.

these thoughts buried your head as you got ready to leave your house, using your phone camera to make any further adjustments to your appearance. you wore pretty jewelery that complimented the outfit you were wearing. overall, you felt confident that this night would go good. it was almost impossible for him to awkward.

it didn’t take long for a text notification to pop up on your screen, jaehyun telling you he was outside. after one final look you tied your shoes and left to his car parked in front of your house. your proximity grew closer and he waved at you from an open window.

“hey, y/n! you look good.” he unlocked the doors, allowing you in.

“thank you.. you look good too!” you complimented back trying to seem casual.

“i’m flattered, but that’s all you. i hope you’re excited.” he brushed it off, starting down the road.

“haha yeah um– i’ve never really been to a fair before so this is my first time.”

“oh shit really? we have to go on the ferris wheel the view is really nice from up there!” he suggests.

“ferris wheel? is now a good time to tell you that i’m deathly afraid of heights? last time i went on one i almost passed out!” the mere thought made you shiver.

“come on, what if i hold your hand or something? i won’t let you fall off i promise.” his offer made you blush.

“maybe i’ll think about it.” you mutter while sinking down into your seat.

the two of you maintained a steady conversation on the short car to the fair. fun lights crowded your vision the closer you got, blurring together to create one big mush of colors in the night. people walked around with popcorn, cotton candy, and numerous prizes.

the scents filled your nose as you got out of the car. jaeyhun walked alongside you, pointing out all of the best rides.

“only crazy people go on that ride, it’s totally insane! looks sketchy too.” he shook his head, “the more tame ones are the few roller coasters, gravity ride, and of course, the ferris wheel.”

“i still don’t know if i wanna go on that one! i promise i’ll try everything else.”

“once you get up there and see the skyline, it’ll be beautiful. trust me.”

“okay okay i’ll go, only if you’re right next to me.” you sigh.

“good! let’s go meet up with my friends first and see what their plan is, and we can go.” he leads you through the crowd, searching around for his group. it was difficult in such a busy environment, but he called out their names loudly once he spotted them. they waved the two of you over as you followed behind.

“jaehyun! hey!” his friends called him over.

“whats up guys? me and y/n just got here, we weren’t around for long.” jaehyun grinned, fixing his hair from the slight wind.

“y/n?”

you poked out from behind jaehyun and waved. the relationship between you and his friends wasn’t great yet, they didn’t seem to like you at all.

“jaehyun can we talk to you in private for a second? just us dudes you know..” one of them spoke quieter into his ear. “yeah, uh.. y/n you wait here, we’ll be back.” jaehyun knew what they were going to ask him, and he dreaded it.

once the group was out of your vision, one of them spoke up sounding agitated.

“dude when are you break her heart? the dare wasn’t supposed to go this far.”

“i know i’m– i’m going to do it i promise.” jaehyun muttered.

“you better. just ditch her on the ferris wheel or something so we can go hang out without her dragging onto you.”

“i can’t leave her on the ferris wheel, that’s fucked. she’s afraid of heights.” jaehyun tried to argue.

“that’s not our problem. she’s lame and we didn’t even want her around in the first place. it was supposed to be a joke.”

“exactly, just leave her.”

not every popular student could be exactly whole - hearted, and because of this jaehyun wasn’t sure he was with the right crowd. their words stung his heart, knowing he’d have to get rid of you eventually. he was too deep into this stupid friend group that he didn’t want to risk leaving it all.

initially, it was an innocent conversation of who would do the worst dare. but then you became an unknowing victim of their game. get the girls number, make her like you, then shatter her idea of love. it sounded less dramatic at first, but he was too deep into it once he finished the first two steps.

jaehyun didn’t want to hurt anybody, at first he thought that since he barely knew you, it’d be okay right?

wrong.

the more time he spent with you, the more he started to genuinely like you. he suppressed the idea of hurting you until it was too late. now he was running back to you with a huge smile on his face. underlying something much more disappointed.

“hey, sorry about that! let’s go on the ferris wheel, yeah?” jaehyun turned your body around swiftly, and leaded you with his hands on your shoulders. the line wasn’t very long, so surely it wouldn’t be awhile until you got up.

“i can do this, i can do this.” you attempted to hype yourself up as you neared closer to the front.

“it will be fine trust me! i’m just gonna throw away my trash real quick and i’ll run back in line, okay?” he was lying.

“hurry please! theres only a few people left and they’re not letting anyone leave the line.”

“i will!” he crouched under the chain holding together the lines and ran to his group of friends, taking a look back to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

jaehyun’s stomach tightened as he watched you enter by yourself, calling out his name frantically. his friends pat his back, laughing at your reaction.

“jaehyun!” your breath quickens as the operator closes the middle bar. “please sir, let me off my friend was supposed to go on with me!”

“sorry kid, we have to keep everything running.”

the wheel started going and you panicked, anxiety beginning to run through your veins. you kept calling out for jaehyun, but there was no point. you scooted yourself as far into the back of the seat and blinked back the hot stream of tears running down your face.

through your hazy vision you barely saw him in the crowd before you got too far up. he was with all of his friends as they watched you freak out in mid air.

feeling betrayed was an understatement. but you couldn’t focus on your anger when you were going to have a panic attack. the higher you got, the heavier you breathed. your hands felt sweaty as you gripped onto the bar that held you in.

maybe the skyline was as beautiful as he said it was, your eyes were wired closed, unable to tell.

you drowned out any other noise, focusing on the creaking of the metal bars as you circled around. once voices became a little more clear, and your feet hit the ground, you opened your eyes and watched the operator lift up your bar and let you out.

your legs felt shaky as you stepped to the side, settling yourself on a bench. jaehyun came running towards you, seeing your tear stained face and balled fists.

“y/n! holy shit i– i’m so sorry i didn’t want to–”

“what the fuck is this, jaehyun? you force me to face my biggest fear just to ditch me for your friends?” you choked out, wiping your face with your sleeve.

“it was a dare, y/n.” “what?”

“i was dared to ask you out.” he admit, staring at the floor.

“so this was just one sick joke? you talked to me for two weeks straight then planned to blow me off the first time we hung out?” your face burned up.

“at first it was but–”

“i should’ve known better. i’m never falling in love ever again.” you cursed, getting up to leave him before he grabs your wrist and yanks you towards him.

“wait y/n!”

“what the hell?!” you yell trying to break away from him, “this isn’t funny jaehyun let me go–”

you couldn’t even process what was happening before his lips were on yours. the kiss enveloped you with a warmth much greater than the one burning in your heart. in that moment you felt your stomach dropping, yet feeling too guilty to indulge in it.

when he pulls away, you stare at him with shock and fresh tears welling in your eyes.

“why would you do that jaehyun.. you already hurt me.” you cry, attempting to get away from him while he held you still.

“because i don’t care about the stupid dare anymore. through all of that bullshit i started to like you a little more than i thought i would. so please, don’t run away.” he confessed, “you can hate me all you want, y/n. i deserve it. just know that there was a point where i stopped pretending.”

“what about your friends i thought–”

“i don’t care about my friends at this point, y/n. they weren’t good influences on me anyways. introduce me to your friends for all i care, i want something real. something like you.”

“you’re not just saying that, right?” you hesitated before he kissed you again, this time you kissed him back.

“do you believe me now?”

“maybe a little bit, but you still hurt my feelings jaehyun!” you pout, relaxing yourself in his grip.

“and i’ll work forever to forgive you. let me take you on an official date, yeah?” he let go of you, letting his hands trail to yours.

“you’re lucky you make my heart melt, myung jaehyun.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

#⋆｡˚ my works #myung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor angst #boynextdoor jaehyun #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor fanfic #myung jaehyun angst #myung jaehyun fluff #boynextdoor au #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor myung jaehyun

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syeren · 7 months ago

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HOW ARE THEY LIKE IN REAL LIFE? — JJK MEN & WOMEN.

SYEREN; mayhaps my 12 AM thoughts… but what if the characters from jjk get plopped down into the real world? whatcha think they might be like?

Gojo — 五条悟

in all honesty…

he’s givin frat

LMAOOOOOOOO

or a rich kid with really successful parents who are either a)

architects

or b)

business owners

he also gives me the vibe that if you ask him how rich he actually is, he’ll just respond with

“i’m living comfortably xx 🫶” 😭😭😭

complains about how his body reacts to things like pollen or how his eyes get too dry throughout the day— so, he carries eye drops, lozenges, and those ointments sniffer thingys.

he also gives me the type where he looks not so concerned about maintaining good grades in academics… but he’s just NATURALLY smart

does that make sense?

he’ll just chug energy drinks to pull 3 consecutive all nighters before a final exam, and BOOM… flying colours

decides to opt for his own business and annoys utahime with how much bank he’s making

love language slowly switched from words of affirmation to gift giving, thus showering his friends with lavish gifts

right now at this point in time, he’s just berating all his friends with how much money he has

Geto — 夏油傑

minus the whole ordeal that happened

he looks the type who would ACTUALLY get his life together 😭😭

occasionally parties, still regularly studies and does his part in group projects

he would go for philanthropy or mayhaps sociology

gojo is his one and only best friend and classmate that he somehow ALWAYS gets stuck with in every class

after graduation, he’s taking a break for himself and is travelling the world

during one of his trips in thailand, he calls up gojo to ask why tf he’s bragging abt his wealth

Nanami — 七海建人

he’s never escaping the business world i fear LMAOOOOO

he really DOES give business i’m sorry pookie 😞

BUT, his OWN business where he’s his own boss and doesn’t have to work under someone else

he would much prefer that either way

but yeah, working class adult, has a dozen pack of beer or sangria wine in his own personalized wine cellar

often competes with gojo’s business, but decides to make a partnership in the end due to gojo’s persuasion

he’s also stuck in his office currently, looking at his phone in bewilderment to screenshots of gojo’s bank acc that gojo himself sent

Yuji — 虎杖悠仁

average teenager

he partakes in the track team at his school and likes to exercise ALOTTT

gym buddy in question? todo

i feel like his guilty pleasure is watching mukbangs to torture himself 😭😭

he ends up being megumi’s roommate after a long time of convincing.

he tries to keep his side clean and tidy but it always ends up being an organized mess

right now, he just came back home from the gym with todo and is in choso’s apartment watching a horror series

Yuta — 乙骨憂太

would you look at that?! average college student

LMAOOOO

definitely majors in either a) science or b) math

NOOOO WAIT

or c) computer science

overall normal kid!

i have no other words, he is also living his life to his fullest, but is very stressed out due to some big projects and tests he has coming

performance anxiety 😞

Megumi — 伏黒恵

also another average teenager

he’s a bit more toned down tho

lil’ meg over here gives me the vibe that he also knows what he’s doing and is very present in life

he’s on top of his hw, does his chores, has a comfortable room that’s neat enough for him…

he also gives me the vibe that he does NOT GAFFFF !!!!!

protect my own peace 🙏 kind of guy

in college he makes the silent regret of dorming with yuji, the complete OPPOSITE to his own tastes but thats twin 🤞

“yuji, could you take out the trash to the lobby? it’s garbage collection today.”

“what? why me?”

“because i have a meeting through zoom with my classmates”

“then do it after?”

“yuji, my zoom call is two hours, taking out the trash will take around five minutes."

"it's actually a five minute walk down to the lobby, and another five minutes back up... w-wait, why are you holding up your slipper?"

ANYWAYS, he’s havin a good time chilling with his friends 😋

Choso — 脹相

he’s for SURE in a biker club

rides a kawasaki ninja h2r with yuki from time to time

other than that, decided to work after hs and he works in a tattoo shop next door to mechamaru’s pub

big scary big brother vibes compared to golden retriever yuji 😞🙏

currently, he’s lounging in his apartment with yuki, yuji, todo, and megumi

Inumaki — 狗巻棘

he's too busy spending time with me unfortunately <3

im kidding

maybe not

ANYWAYYYYYYY, i feel like inumaki would have a hobby in pc games.

he would absolutely ROCK valorant

whenever he plays horror games he FORCES the rest of the squad to play with him because he's a pussy scaredy-cat

in his spare time he likes to do track or go on long runs whenever he feels stressed out from uni

forgets to shower sometimes after he runs, so he fucking reeks the day after

he's majoring in comp-sci

speaking of runs, look at him go! he’s on one right now

Sukuna — 両面宿儺

the most annoying and narcissistic man

AND SO MEAN TOO?!

yknow those tiktok comments or ig reel comments you see? yeah, those ones.

that’s him. he’s the one making those actually.

very misogynistic, controlling AND argumentative

he swears on the history of the world wars and somehow always brings it up during conflict? 💀

believes mental health is fake and violence can solve everything

prolly wholeheartedly disagrees with women’s rights with his ancient ass mentality

he’s preparing for an argument stream against mahito 😭

Todo — 東堂葵

GYMMM RATTTTT

ALWAYS HOGGING THE MACHINES NO MATTER WHATTTT

only talks about fitness and nutrition, girls, and what his plans are for the weekend.

“nah bro, i’m all natty rn,” “i don’t use creatine,” “what?! i’m not on roids dude! just the chicken breast and asparagus with rice”

he’s also the type to look at someone a little too long at the gym, or outside

or anywhere, in fact

studies kinesiology

hope i spelt that right 😁🤞

Mechamaru — 与幸吉

in my reality, he and miwa would be a couple

THERE I SAID IT!

he would genuinely try to be a good boyfriend while bartending in a dingy pub just two blocks away from their shared apartment.

he would be the type to spam miwa msgs on his break

lowkey wants a tattoo done by choso so he could swipe that discount 😋

Mahito — 真人

he’s known on the internet for being a controversial streamer on twitch

he also has such a shitty mic that when he screams it cuts off the sound

ALWAYS has his shirt off during the stream 😭😭

he would say the most out of pocket statements and without context, it would be the most HORRIFIC thing

so, people would clip that and post it 😟 thus, he gained a large following bc of those statements

Miwa — 三輪霞

raves about cats and dogs to her bf and after a long, agonizing wait… they finally adopted one from the pound and this is all she has been doing

taking care of her animal child, and man child that is mechamaru

I FEEL LIKE MIWA WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE ANIMALS SO THIS IS WHAT SHE DECIDES TO GO FOR IN COLLEGE

with a minor in marine biology too :3

Shoko — 家入硝子

i would catch her at a pub or a bar somewhere either drinking gin and tonic on lighter day, and more heavier days she would go for whiskey

if NOT, then she’s in an back alley smoking before she needs to go back to her like… 20 hour shift as a nurse.

spends most of her time at home and scrolling on her amazon shopping cart to see what else she can buy to help her busy ass life

Maki — 禪院真希

similar to todo, but she gives me the vibe that she would train in both calisthenics and mma as a hobby

like hobby: all that stuff, and the other half is dedicated to working towards her degree in either a science like forensics or history.

she lives her life to the fullest on her terms!! really mia from social media and is training real hard everyday

right now, she’s with nobara on a shopping trip to the mall

(she did NOT wanna go, but she likes spending time with her bestie anyway)

Mai — 禪院真依

FASHION DESIGN I REPEAT FASHION DESIGN

when i first saw mai come on screen, i also did too jus a little bit

but her aura makes me imagine that she runs a tiktok account to post fit pics onto it, has so many pinterest boards dedicated to vintage or her new obsession— office siren outfits.

also has such a GOOD spread of pictures up on instagram, like she’s THAT girl

now, she’s currently studying fashion while scourging the internet for good statement pieces like red leather kitten heels to go along with her two-piece cropped blazer and mini skirt outfit.

Mei Mei — 冥冥

hmm… 😟

teacher vibes…

but like, those english teachers that only interact positively with the popular kids

PLSSS IM SORRY OKAY, THATS THE ONLY FACTOR ABOUT MEI MEI THAT REALLY CAUGHT ME OFF GUARDDDD

APART from that

actually good at her profession, and makes sure her class is fun

the type that does NAWT give two fucks abt late hw bc she complains that “the workload will double up on her anyway”

Utahime — 庵歌姫

bc of her personality as well as her easily irritated anger tolerance with gojo…

def a head master of a boarding school or an instructor for flight attendants

occasionally goes out for drinks with shoko, but only rants abt gojo bc of his dumbass

very good at her job, and often sees her alumni if she has time in her schedule

right now, she’s currently cooped up in her office filing out different paperwork and silencing her phone from gojo’s numerous screenshots of his bank acc 😭

Nobara — 釘崎野薔薇

the last of the bunch for average teenagers.

nobara DOES NOT give that much attention towards school, so she opts for a general of easier course— psychology being one, because everyone else is taking it so she thinks it’s easy. two, general studies.

you can find her ALWAYS OUT for some reason?!

she gains her energy by socializing and just being outside of the house in general 😭

says it’s a ‘waste of a day.’

she’s dragging around maki to push clothes into her arms that she deems acceptable and will look amazing on her

—

AN; SYEREN here! creds to @ kOmuuuug1xxx on x for the pic :3

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff

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torturedblue · 1 year ago

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Part 2 of endless Disaster Twin parallels, the not so fun version

Part 1, the fun version

Considering the series shows Donnie coming off as autistic, he’s portrayed that way much more in fan art and fanfics, etc. We often see it in fan portrayals through an aversion to touch or his senses getting overwhelmed, etc. In the show I noticed Leo actually has a consistent aversion to anything with a gross texture too: like in the first episode when they’re all sliding down Draxum’s vines and he’s tripping over himself, the only one bothered by them “I hate this!”

He also starts flailing in a panic after a worm jumps on his face (and do I even need to bring up how the texture of worms ain’t all that enjoyable let alone on your face), recoils when that evil Hidden City massage guy pours hair serum all over his head, and he’s the most visibly repulsed when Raph gets trash all over them in the beginning of Battle Nexus: New York. So on multiple occasions he comes off as pretty texture or germ averse as well

Both also have insecurity issues about their role to the team: “If mystics can do everything I can but better then why would you guys even need me?” “I’m nothing without them!”

Ironically, in Many Unhappy Returns, Splinter thinks Leo doesn’t know what he’s doing and isn’t taking the mission seriously, saying he should’ve brought Purple. But in the same episode during fights with Shredder Donnie’s seen texting on his phone half of the time. Which is also very parallel to Leo making quips in the beginning instead of helping fight like Donnie and the others

In that same fashion, Donnie’s also goofiest when everyone’s acting serious in Insane in the Mama Train, while Leo’s the unserious one in the following episodes. Another role reversal from their norm

The show also portrays these two as feeling the most affected by Splinter’s history of emotionally distant parenting. Donnie constantly talks about his unmet need for parent-aged-adult approval/validation, and Leo shows his struggle in a more Leo-like way, constantly finding father figure connections in other people like Jupiter Jim and The Dunk. He also rejects/roasts Splinter a lot too, which seems more like a form of overcompensation; acting like he doesn’t totally need or crave Splinter’s attention. The exact opposite of Donnie’s methods. “No! I’m not going back to what’s-his-rat.”

“He’s my all-time favorite actor/role model/father figure!”

“That eccentric billionaire, who was kind of a surrogate father figure to me, has shown me a version of myself I don’t like.”

Leo acts like he doesn’t pine for his affection. I’m sure he sees the way Donnie openly, desperately goes after it when it’s offered and then gets crushed even harder with disappointment (ahem Turtle-dega Nights). No way Leo’s opening himself up to that. I mean come on how sad is the moment when Splinter says they should do something together and Mikey is so eager to jump on the opportunity before it gets taken away, only for Donnie to have to pull him aside and remind him it’s usually some kind of trick or he’s likely possessed? Just for Mikey to immediately respond, “You’re right, I always fall for this!” Ouch. Honestly considering Mikey’s empathy and emotional maturity in mind, the reason both he and Raph seem to handle Splinter’s lack of attention so well is probably also because in addition Raph became a second parent himself, and taking on that role like Splinter, he knows from his own experience that even though their dad doesn’t show it in the ways they wish he would, of course he loves them and what he does do to take care of them as a parent proves that

I think the parallels and direct contrasts between how Leo and Donnie show their dissatisfaction in their relationship with Splinter is probably the most developed and interesting one to me 💔

I mean Leo’s the only one who would actually say something like this to Splinter and you can’t tell me there’s not some deep-seated resentment in the way he looks and the way he says it…

So yeah. There’s the sad edition of Disaster Twins parallels. Let’s all cry together 😃

#disaster twins #rottmnt disaster twins #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #leo and donnie #rottmnt character analysis #these poor boys

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ladyodium · 7 months ago

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Controversial take: (this is my own opinion and you don’t have to agree, but I ask you to respect it because that is just how I perceived Rhaenyra not everybody perceives the characters the same way.)

I don’t think Rhaenyra would be a good ruler. Neither do I believe Aegon is either. I am neither Team Black or Team Green. I don’t like either factions, it’s a stupid civil war between families.

However, Rhaenyra herself made me angry throughout the whole show and while reading the book. Rhaenyra was given the chance to show the realm that she could be a Competent ruler, a leader, a new hope for the people and women that lived in a society ruled by the patriarchy. Instead, we get to see her just straight trash all the opportunities, have affairs, have illegitimate children, and then turn almost every noble lady and lord against her.

Before anyone says “she was mourning her mother.” “Her kids were still targaryens!” “Oh, well she did the right thing.” “Oh, you’re just saying that cause you have some Internalized misogyny.” I understand this to a point, and I don’t dislike Rhaenyra because she’s a woman, I don’t like Rhaenyra because she makes these selfish choices that only benefit her. You can argue that she did this for her kids, which is true, but she still could have done those choices without offending the Great houses.

She tries to pass off her kids as Velaryons, and everyone knows this isn’t true even the people who are apart of House Velayon know that her children are illegitimate, and it’s seen as a huge slap in the face to her biggest ally. I also wanna point out that’s why Vaemond, Corlys brother, was so offended that the King would accept that this illegitimate child should take the throne of House Vearyon.

Rhaenyra to me is a tragic character, I like how she’s charming, headstrong and willing to protect those she holds dear. I think she truly wants to show she can be a Great Ruler, but she plays the Game of Thrones like a man instead of playing it like a woman. Sometimes, when I was watching the show it seemed like she didn’t even want it until it wasn’t hers anymore.

To conclude this kinda rant, Rhaenyra was given the opportunity to become the first woman (after Rhaenys) to sit upon the iron throne, and instead of showing that she is capable of becoming the ruler of the seven kingdoms, she basically shows the realm that she is ill prepared to take the throne, and she takes advantage of the fact that her father, The King, is willing to be ignorant of her wrongdoings, and not a uphold her to the same laws of the realm that hold it together.

Rhaenyra was a child who was grieving the loss of a Mother who was always on the birthing bed and never in her life. She was surrounded by men in her life that continued to use and abuse her, even if she didn’t realize she was a victim. She is product of her surroundings and even after all my rants about her, I still want to believe she could be a Great Queen with the proper guidance and education.

( I’m gonna do one for Aegon as well and Alicent)

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #alicent hightower #team black #team green #i’m just a girl #hotd fandom #hotd season 2

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wosoimagines · 7 months ago

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Told You So

part 6 of rivals

Jo gets her first start of the Victory Tour in her home state, and the team finally gets to meet her family.

2,832 words

previous part| |next part

“Guess what I’ve got.”

I grinned as Hope tilted her head to the side. I tapped at my chest.

“Hope you brought all the good trash talk today, Solo. You’re not gonna stop anything I throw at you.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, Pip.”

I pouted at the nickname. I was sure that I would have grown out of it by now, but Hope had been adamant about making sure it stuck around.

“Jo!” I whirled around to look at Becky who did not look happy with me. “Stop taunting the goalies. Get to work!”

“But that’s no fun,” I whined, although I was already starting to move to the opposite side of the field to get ready with the rest of the forwards. “You don’t have to be so boring all the time.”

“If you don’t get your butt over there, I can really be boring for you,” Becky assured, “I’ll make sure you do all of your school work on our off day.”

I shook my head at that as I started to jog across the field.

“Always ruining my fun,” I grumbled knowing that the mic would pick it up. “I’m sixteen. I think I’m allowed a little fun, right?”

My eyes found the camera that was following me as I gave it a little shrug.

Once I reached the other forwards, Christen was quick to join my side. We didn’t initially say anything to each other as we warmed up. That was until Christen tried to nutmeg me, but I moved my heel just enough to keep the ball in front of me.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tobin,” I said as I pointed at her.

Christen shook her head at that.

“You’re in a really good mood. Your exams go well?”

“I was exempt. All A’s.”

“That’s good. Get you into Stanford with those grades.”

“I know some others who would object to that.”

Christen rolled her eyes at that. I had been hearing everyone hype up their own college, but I ultimately hadn’t decided where I was going to go just yet.

“So, what does have you so happy?”

“We’re in Texas. This is my home game. Jill told me she’d start me since I saved up all my tickets for the year so my family can come.”

“You had to save up all of your tickets?” Alex asked behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to look at her before nodding.

“But that’s almost thirty tickets,” Christen pointed out.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I hadn’t been shy about talking about how big my family was.

“I have twelve siblings. That’s why they couldn’t go to the World Cup. There’s just way too many of us.”

“You have twelve siblings?” Alex asked. I nodded. “Did your parents never hear of a condom?”

“To be fair, I was a complete accident,” I admitted. “Marley was born when my parents were nineteen. Five of my siblings were born back-to-back years.”

“You were an accident?”

“Yeah, no one told my parents how long they should have actually waited after my dad got a vasectomy. Nine months later and there I was.”

“They’re all coming?”

“Yeah! And my niece, Sky. I can’t wait for you guys to meet Sky. She loves the team.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “She watches all the games. I think she’s the only one who knows more about soccer than you just need to get the ball into the back of the net.”

“Well, then I can’t wait to meet her,” Christen said as she ruffled my hair.

I grinned at that before we were all called to huddle so we could start our drills.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean you aren’t coming?”

I ran a hand through my hair as I paced in front of the foot of my bed.

“I have an important interview scheduled, Jo,” Mom said causing me to scoff. “It could boost the book sales. And our family is expected to be there to support me. We’re supposed to be showing a united front.”

“Yeah, because nothing screams united like missing your youngest daughter’s victory tour. I don’t even know why I try to invite any of you. It isn’t like I’ve been asking the team to save all of my tickets for the games throughout the year to make sure everyone in the family could come.”

“You’ll have other games,” Dad cut in. I shook my head at that. They didn’t get it. They never did. “Us missing this game isn’t going to kill you.”

“When was the last game of mine you went to?” I asked. Both of my parents went silent. I couldn’t even remember myself. “You couldn’t come to the World Cup, which is the biggest stage I’ll ever play on. You didn’t come to my national team debut. Those I could somewhat understand because they weren’t in Texas. But this? This game is in Texas. It’s San Antonio. It’s only three hours and you’re telling me you won’t even make that trip to watch me?”

“We have more important things,” Dad said. I tried to blink away the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes. “We’re trying to think about the family.”

“How about for once in my life, you think about me? It’s always been the family. No one has ever been there for me. Not really!” I snapped. I let out a laugh of disbelief. “The only person who has even cared to learn anything about the sport I love so much is Sky! You couldn’t even name half of my national teammates. You’ve never cared about soccer past whether I was a good player or not. The only time you’ve had something to say to me was when I lost. It’s never when I win.

“I won the World Cup and I stayed silent when no one in this family besides Sky celebrated it because I knew that this game was going to happen. Silly me for believing that this family would actually show up to celebrate me for once! I had to watch as every single one of my teammates was able to celebrate with their family while I was left alone! You will never understand what that’s like!”

“You want to talk about never understanding?” Dad snapped back. “You could never understand that sacrifices that your mother and I have made for this family!”

“That’s your responsibility! You’re the ones who decided to have a family! It’s up to you to take care of us and make those sacrifices! I’m not the one who should be suffering just because I was the kid you never wanted!”

“We’ve never said we didn’t want you,” Mom defended. I didn’t fight the tears this time. “You and most of your siblings weren’t planned but we have always wanted all of you.”

“Do you?”

Both of my parents went silent at that. They had never shown true interest in what I was doing.

“You both have a funny way of showing it.”

Before either of them could respond I ended the call. I tossed my phone to the side, not caring where it ended up, before throwing myself on the bed. I curled into a ball as I grabbed a hold of a pillow. I let out the loudest scream I could muster up as I just let the tears fall from my eyes.

I didn’t even think too much about it when the pillow was pulled away from me and replaced with a person. I didn’t mind either even as someone else hugged me from behind as well.

“It’s okay,” Becky soothed as she rubbed my back. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Jo. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

It didn’t take much to deduce that the person who had pried me away from the pillow was Alyssa. Especially once she started to run her hand through my hair. And with the emotional toll talking to my parents had already taken on me, it wasn’t long before I was falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I blinked my eyes open before I wiped my face. I frowned as I glanced around at the room. I tried to get my bearings, but it just felt like I couldn’t get over how disoriented I currently was. I could have sworn that Becky and Alyssa were here, but there was no trace of them.

I reached over to grab ahold of my phone where it was sitting on the nightstand. I didn’t even remember picking it up after I had thrown it to the side. But then again, I wasn’t even sure what time it was.

8:17 pm.

Shit.

Dinner was nearly over. I scrambled from the bed and into the bathroom. I turned on the sink and quickly washed at the tear tracks that were on my face. I couldn’t let any of my teammates know that I had been crying over something so insignificant. They had finally just started to look at me as if I was actually worthy of being on the team. I couldn’t let anything risk that.

Once I had decided that my face was cleaned off enough that I wouldn’t get any questions, I grabbed a hoodie that was sitting on the desk chair before pulling the hood up over my head. I didn’t even bother with the elevator. I was much more likely to run into some of my teammates that way. The stairs were much safer.

I made it through the doors of the mess hall that we had set up downstairs just before they stopped serving our meals. I was a bit surprised by how empty the room already was, I knew that most of the team liked to hang around and just chill with each other. But Becky and Alyssa were sitting at a table with each other with an extra plate.

Becky was the first one to spot me and waved me over to join them. As if I ever ate with anyone else.

“Feeling better?”

I froze at Becky’s question. So, I didn’t make up Becky and Alyssa being with me in the room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I refused to look at either of them as I focused on my food.

“Jo,” Alyssa started as I tried to shovel my food in my mouth as fast as I could, “it’s okay to be upset about it.”

“Seriously, guys,” I said, once I swallowed the food in my mouth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So, you don’t want to talk about a call with your parents made you cry enough that you eventually fell asleep?”

I pushed the plate of food away from me as my fork clattered against the table. I met Becky’s eyes as I clenched my jaw.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said after a moment of silence passed between the three of us. “I’m usually much better about making sure no one has to see that.”

I didn’t waste any time standing up. I knew that I could at least hide away with Rose and Sam. We had, after all, gotten close while at the U-20 World Cup a year ago.

“Jo.”

Alyssa tried to catch my hand, but I was quick to shuffle away from the two of them.

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

I didn’t give them any time to say anything else as I left the mess hall. I knew that I would regret not eating my dinner, but I really wasn’t in the mood to eat right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you know that we love having you,” Sam started, causing me to raise my eyebrows at the taller player, “but Becky keeps asking us to make sure you’re fine. Like multiple times a day.”

I rolled my eyes at that. I had initially thought that Christen was just messing with me when she told me that I would never be able to escape Becky and Alyssa being my team moms now.

“Did something happen that we need to know about?” Rose added.

“Everything’s fine,” I assured. I had been so adamant about making sure that I wouldn’t be anywhere near Becky and Alyssa the past couple of days that I had even knocked out all of my homework for the entire trip. “Becky’s just dramatic. Really wish she’d learn that I don’t need a second mother.”

“Hey,” Rose said, drawing my eyes from my phone to her, “Becky’s just worried about you. It’s a little unfair for you to be upset with her when we all are.”

“Yeah, well, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Jo,” Sam softly said, “You’ve been avoiding Becky and Alyssa for the past two days. Something obviously happened. Becky seems really worried about you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Look, we’re not asking you what it’s about,” Rose said, as she grabbed my phone when I went to look at it again. “We’re just asking that you check in with Becky. Sam and I don’t mind you staying in our room, but we are getting tired of Becky constantly asking us how you’re doing.”

I sighed at that. I knew that it wasn’t Rose or Sam’s fault. It wasn’t even Becky or Alyssa’s fault.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. Becky at least deserved to know that I wasn’t mad at her. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. After the game.”

“Jo-”

“After the game,” I reaffirmed when Rose tried to say anything. “I just need to make sure that my head is in the game since I’m starting.”

Rose and Sam looked between each other before Rose nodded in agreement.

“But you have to talk to her.”

I nodded at that. It was a fair demand if I was going to still be here in their room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned as I jumped up onto Sam’s back. The older woman grunted but she steadied herself.

“I’m not a horse, you know.”

“Come on, Sammy! I scored a hat-trick. Gotta keep these legs fresh.”

“Try an ice bath.”

I shivered at the thought.

“No thanks,” I said to Sam.

Sam huffed, but she didn’t fight to get me off her back.

“Saw that your family is here,” Rose spoke up. I nodded at that as my eyes found where my family was sitting in the stands. “You weren’t lying that it’s huge.”

“Did everyone think that I was?” I asked. Sam and Rose both nodded their heads causing me to huff. “No one ever believes me. Not even my friends at school. Am I really that hard to trust?”

Both Sam and Rose froze at that.

“Not hard to trust,” Becky assured me as she and Alyssa joined our little group. “But twelve siblings is a lot. Kind of hard to wrap your head around.”

I slid off of Sam’s back. I knew that I needed to talk to Becky and Alyssa without anyone else butting into our conversation.

“I can explain it all to you if you really need me to when we get back to the hotel.”

Rose and Sam both shook their heads at that before making their exit to greet the fans.

I looked at the two for a moment before rubbing at the back of my neck.

“I was never mad at either of you.”

“We know,” Becky said. She reached out to place a hand on my shoulder. “We were never upset with you. We just worry about you, Jo.”

“Yeah, and the whole running off didn’t help,” Alyssa added. Becky was quick to elbow the goalie’s side. Alyssa glared at Becky. “Hey! I’m just trying to tell her that she worried us more by running off then just talking.”

“I’ve never had anyone to talk to,” I admitted. Both of the older players looked at me. “I have twelve siblings and not a single one is that interested in soccer. Plus, Elvis and Mick are the closest to me in age and they can be assholes.”

“Siblings usually are,” Alyssa agreed. “But they’ll always be there for you.”

“I’m just not used to it,” I said. They two looked between each other causing me to motion to them. “People actively caring about me. I mean, they care. My family. I know they do, but there’s so many of us that things just don’t seem as impressive anymore.”

Becky reached out to pull me into a hug along with Alyssa.

“Well, you’ll always have us. Promise.”

I squeezed the two a bit tighter before Alyssa forced her way away from us.

“Okay, go spend some time with your family. After all, Becky didn’t convince them to come just for you to ignore them.”

I paused at that as I turned to Becky.

“Thank you.”

Becky nodded before pushing me away.

“You’ll have to bring Sky to the locker room with you,” Becky said with a grin. “Go enjoy the time with your family.”

I nodded before rushing off over to where my family was.

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