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rbfclassy · 1 year ago

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STILL IN LOVE! #2 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

It’s been about three weeks since you found out about Toji’s new girlfriend. You still haven’t met her or properly seen her yet, but from what the kids tell you, she seems nice. It still felt weird having to get used to the idea that your ex had actually moved on. It was silly to think about, you know. Having been married over five years and getting a divorce, you’d think that means you would be done with your ex, but no, it was quite the opposite. Toji and you were still at each other, flirting, kissing, having sex. Neither of you had essentially ‘moved on’ from one another. It was normal for the both of you. It just never clicked in your mind that he would actually leave and live his life like a divorce is intended to do.

You’ll pin that blame on yourself, thinking too much into what you had with him is what caused you to feel this jealousy in the first place. Having remembered how you were once her spot, being the girlfriend that he took everywhere and did everything with. Hell, shes even met your kids before she’s even met you. It was clear Toji felt serious about her, otherwise he would’ve never brought her around Megumi and Naya. That thought made something twist in your chest.

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. Her big eyes watching as you applied your moisturizer in the bathroom mirror, a stuffie in her arms.

“Yes, baby?” You smiled, kneeling down so you were eye level with her.

“Daddy is at the door. He’s asking for you.” She blinked, squeezing the stuffed animal in her arms. Usually Toji just comes on in announced, startling you when he suddenly speaks, but you found it weird that he was now waiting at the door to speak to you. You grabbed your daughter’s hand, walking her to living room where Megumi was watching teen titans and eating popcorn. “Ooo, is that starfire?!” You daughter ran towards her brother, letting go of your hand.

Your eyes landed on Toji who leaning against the door way, dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweats, a stoic look on his face. “Hi, mama,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“Can I talk to you really quick? Outside?” He nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“Yeah.” You nodded, following his footsteps as you shut the front door behind you. “Something wrong?” You looked at him.

“I won’t be able to take the kids this weekend,” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean? Why?” Your brows furrowed, standing there confused.

“I got…things to do,” he meekly answered. He kept his answer as vague as possible leaving little to nothing for you to go off of, but deep down you had a feeling it had something to do with his new girlfriend.

“Things to do? Like what?” You questioned, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue.

“Nothing important,” he quickly replied, sucking in a breath.

“If it’s not important then why can’t you take the kids? They’re not gonna be happy about this,” you try to explain. You couldn’t understand why he was being so secretive towards you all of sudden, especially when it came to his time with the children.

“Can you just accept the fact I can’t take them? Please?” He seemed to be getting impatient, rolling his eyes every time you questioned him on something. It was obviously bothering him.

“Does it have to do with your new girlfriend?” There was no harm in asking him, curiosity getting the better of you.

“That’s none of your business.” He tone was rough and stern, almost like you hit a nerve.

“Oh?” Your brows raised in surprise in his sudden change of attitude. “I think it is my business considering this involves your time with our children and the fact you bring her around our kids, Toji. It’s a simple yes or no question.”

He let out a scoff, averting his gaze in a different direction. A sigh left his lips as he ran his hands down his face. “Here you fucking go,” he groaned. “You’re getting jealous.”

“I’m sorry?” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him.

“You’re getting jealous of her, aren’t you?” His question hung in the air for several seconds as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Here you go assuming shit like always. See this is why we can never have a normal conversation, cause you always wanna start something! Where the fuck did that even come from?” You were starting to see just why you and Toji got divorced. There was some truth to his words, about being jealous. Though, you were too stubborn to admit such a thing to someone like him. What good would it do you anyway? He’d probably just laugh in your face and walk off. “Have your weekend to yourself, Toji. I’ll find someone else to take care of Megumi and Naya.” You turn around to enter the house, not having the energy to argue with him.

“Woah, what do you mean someone else?” His hand is wrapped around your wrist as he pulls you back towards him. “Why can’t you?”

“Cause I have things planned! Pretty sure Shoko won’t mind watching them.” You snatch your wrist back from him, only for him to grab onto you again, pulling you back. “What, Toji?!” You ask in annoyance, sighing loudly.

“You got things planned? With who?” It almost made you laugh how he was the one asking so many questions, trying to peak in on your life.

“That’s none of your business,” you casually say as you stare him. His jaw clenches, finally letting go of your wrists. Both of you stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes when in actuality it was only a mere second. You had a date on Saturday night, someone you met while you were out shopping for groceries. He was handsome, and kind enough to ask you to a dinner, even offered to pay. It would be wrong if you said no because you wanted to say yes, so you did. His name was Kento Nanami. “Goodnight, Toji.” With those words, you walked back into the house and shut the door behind you, locking it.

“Mommy, what did daddy want?” You daughter asked, peaking up from behind the couch.

“I’ll tell you two tomorrow, just keep watching your show.” You smiled at the both of them, quickly rushing to your room to try shake off the funny feeling that you had. Why couldn’t he just be upfront with you? Tell you the truth? You wouldn’t mind if you he needed time to himself, but to come out and be secretive about it was a different story. Then, to start arguing with you simply reminded you of the times he and you fought over the stupidest things. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, but you couldn’t help it.

You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead thinking about the date you soon had. You got walked over to your closet, skimming through the hanging clothes in search of a perfect dress to wear. Something elegant yet sexy is what you were going for. You didn’t want to wear anything too over the top in fear of scaring him away, but you wanted something that also showed him you weren’t a prude.

Finally, you landed on your favorite black dress, the corners of your mouth forming into a smile as your eyes scanned over the piece of fabric. “Perfect.”

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bad268 · 6 days ago

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Your Number's Up (Max Verstappen X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope (Your Scream Poll winner!) (side note, im scared to turn anonymous back on should i?)

Warnings: Literally Scream 1996, murders, kinda gorey, talking about splitting people open, jokes about virginity, small sex scene (skipped the actual smut), guns, knives (a lot), lmk if I missed anything.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 5233

Summary: The sleepy little town of Woodsboro just woke up screaming. There's a killer in their midst who's seen a few too many scary movies.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You awoke with a start, sweat drenching you from head to toe. You were on the couch, and your TV was still on. The Netflix screen “Are you still watching?” stares back at you. How long had you been out? You couldn’t tell.

The sun was long set as you begrudgingly sat up, stretching your shoulders. You glanced at the clock to see that it was nearing 10 at night. You got up, cracked your back, and padded your way to the kitchen.

“I’ll be back later, forgot my wallet and ran to get us ice cream,” You read. Max left a note taped to your cabinet. You already planned on a movie marathon, and no movie marathon is complete without popcorn and ice cream.

Of course, Max would remember your ritual.

You set the pan up on the stove, and threw some butter and kernels into the pan before covering it. You walked back to your living room to load up the next movie.

Halloween. Your favorite. It was your turn to pick anyway, but since Max wasn’t here either means you got to choose.

You checked your phone again as the kernels started popping, and your phone wouldn’t turn on. You could’ve sworn you still had at least 10 percent left on your battery, but oh well. You tossed your phone back onto the couch before heading back into the kitchen.

In a lull between pops, the shrill of a phone ringing caused you to jump.

Your head snapped over to the landline that you didn’t even know the number to. You didn’t even think it still worked. Last you checked, it wasn’t connected to anything, but apparently it was.

You cautiously walked up to it and picked it up, thinking it was your parents.

“Hello?” You answered in a reserved tone, still in shock that the phone even worked.

“Hello there,” The voice responded. That definitely didn’t sound like your parents or any of your friends, for that matter.

“Who’s this?”

“Soon you’ll discover.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I think you have the wrong number,” You said, confused. You started to pull the phone away from your ear just before you heard him say something that grabbed your attention.

“Oh, just a minute. You’ll be dying to hang on the line,” He said, pulling you right back in, “Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“I don’t think so,” You humoured him as you leaned your elbows against the kitchen table as you kept your eye on the popcorn.

“What’s that noise?”

“Popcorn,” You answered with a pip. “I’m getting ready to watch a movie.”

“Oh really?” He sounded surprised as you moved to quickly shake the pan. “What kind of movie?”

“Some scary movie,”

“Do you like scary movies?” He questioned in a flirty tone. Maybe this call wasn’t so bad. You made an agreeing noise, so he asked, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Halloween!” You cheered as you moved the popcorn off of the heat, so it wouldn’t burn before sitting at your bay window. “You know, the one with the guy with the white mask who just sorta walks around and stalks the babysitters. What's yours?”

“Guess.”

“Uh…” You thought for a second, “Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Duh, Freddy Krueger!”

“Freddy! That's right. I liked that movie,” He answered, “It was scary.”

“The first one was, but the rest sucked,” You chuckled, looking out into the woods surrounding your house as the wind brushed against the leaves.

“So, you gotta boyfriend?” “Why? You tryna ask me out? You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Maybe,” He said simply, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Unfortunately, I do, phone man,” You replied in mock disappointment.

“You know, you never told me your name.” He switched up the topics.

“Why do you want to know my name?” You chuckled again as you rested your head in your palm.

“I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

“What did you say?” You shot up, blood running ice cold as you blankly looked out the window.

“I want to know who I’m talking to…” He trailed off with a chuckle.

“That’s not what you said,” You muttered, backing away from the window, pulling the curtain closed.

“What did you think I said?” He asked in fake concern. You could hear it now.

“I gotta go.”

“Don’t hang up on me-” You didn’t listen to the rest as you hung up immediately, and ran around the house, making sure all of the doors and windows were locked and covered.

The phone rings again.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you little bitch!” He shouted over the line, “If you hang up on me again, I’ll gut you like a fish. Understand?”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“More of a game, really,” He teased.

“What do you want?” “I wanna see what your insides look like.” Immediately, you hung up the phone.

Then, your doorbell rang.

“Who’s there?!” You shouted, eyeing the door as your breaths came out heavy and fast. You muttered a quick, “fuck this” to yourself before dialling the police.

Before you could press call, another call comes in.

“Don’t you know not to ask those questions?” He yelled back over the line. “Don't you watch scary movies? It's a death wish.”

“Enough is enough, you’ve had your fun,” You seethed as you grabbed a kitchen knife before slowly walking towards your front door. “I’m not afraid of you. You better leave me alone or else.”

“Ooo, or else what?” He teased again, causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Or else my boyfriend is gonna be pissed when I tell him!” You shouted, hoping it would make him go away. “He’s gonna be here any minute, and your ass better be gone by the time he gets here!”

“I’m so scared,” He said sarcastically. “I’m quacking in my boots.”

“You better be because he’s big and scary, and he will totally beat the shit out of you!” You yelled through tears, probably not sounding at all convincing. The man on the other side didn’t respond, but you could still hear his breathing. “What, cat got your tongue now, jackass? Leave me alone!”

You hung up the phone again, but dialled Max immediately instead. It took him a couple of rings to answer.

“Max? Tell me you’re almost here,” You sighed out as your breath continued to come out strained.

“I’m in your driveway,” Max answered, and now that he said that, you heard a car turning off in your driveway. “I just got here, and I’m heading in.”

“Be careful, please,” You pressed as you stood right by the door and slowly, with shaking hands, unlatched the chain. You let out a shaky breath as you looked through the peephole and watched Max approach the door, a bag in hand. You open the door hastily, grabbing Max's forearm and yanking him into the house before relatching the chain on the door. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

“Did I miss something?” Max asked as you tightly wrap your arms around his waist and hid your face in his chest. “I'm not complaining, but you’re normally not this latched when I come over. It’s the ice cream, isn’t it?”

“Just some dickhead who thought he could scare me, that's all," You explained, “but you're here now and that's what matters.”

The next day, you went to school, wanting to put the previous night behind you, but the entire grounds were swarmed with police and news crews. You passed by a few policemen who were standing guard when you spotted the first reporter, Charles Leclerc.

“The small town of Woodsboro, North Carolina, was devastated last night when two young teenagers were found brutally butchered. Authorities have yet to issue a statement, but our sources tell us that no arrest has been made and the murderer could strike again.” Charles said while flashing a fake, flashy smile at the camera.

You moved around him, disturbed when you were tapped from behind on the shoulder.

“Do you believe this shit?” Lily chuckled as she bumped her shoulder against yours. You looked confused between her and Charles, wordlessly asking her to continue. “Oh God! You don’t know? Casey Becker and Steve Forrest were killed last night.”

“No way,” You gasped.

“And not just killed,” Lily dragged out, “We’re talking splatter movie killed! Split open end to end!”

“Casey Becker?” You asked. “She sits next to me in maths.”

“Ha, not anymore,” Lily joked, “Her parents found her hanging from a tree. Her insides were on the outside if you know what I’m saying.”

It was like someone dropped cold water on your head. This wasn’t a coincidence.

“I wanna see what your insides look like.”

What if you were meant to be the one killed? If Max had not shown up when he did, maybe you would have been the one up a tree with your insides out.

“I...uh...I need to go to class,” You stuttered out, grasping your books tighter against your chest, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Lunch came quicker than you were expecting. Some students were called in to be questioned by Sheriff Vettel and Deputy Bearman, but you weren’t one of them.

“Hunt? Why would they ask if you like to hunt?” Lily leaned back in Oscar’s arms to ask him as you walked up to your normal table with your lunch. Most of your friends were already there, including Max who made a spot right next to him for you by pushing Lando almost completely off the bench.

“Ouch, rude,” Lando complained as he brushed off his pants and moved to the other side of the bench.

“That was pretty funny,” Oscar chuckled, pointing at Lando. “And I don't know, they just did.”

“It was probably because their bodies were gutted,” Lando commented, dropping his head as he shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. You involuntarily felt yourself flinch at the shocking reminder as you sat next to Max. Immediately sensing the tension, Max put his arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you closer to him.

“Thanks, Lando,” Max said, leaving no room to continue that conversation.

“Wait, how do you even gut someone like that?” You muttered, not really expecting the rest of the group to hear you.

“You take a knife and slit from the groin to the sturnum,” Oscar explains while gesturing with his hands. “It was clearly a man because there’s no way a girl could have done that.”

“That’s so sexist of you,” Lily snapped, “The killer could easily be female.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Oscar chuckled lowly, “Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. No offense to any females, but it takes a man to do something like that.”

“Ok, I regret asking anything,” You said, quickly cutting off the rest of the conversation.

Later that night, you knew you couldn’t stay in your house. Your dad was away on business for the weekend, and the big house was too echo-y for your liking. Thankfully, Lily offered to come pick you up after practice.

You were laying on the couch, taking a break from the literature essay you were working on. You had already packed a bag and had it sitting in the foyer, ready to grab and go. You thought it would be fine to take a small nap.

You awoke with a start as you looked around the room. Again, your phone was dead, but the landline was ringing.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Lily’s voice came through, causing you to squint a bit to see what time it was. 7:15 PM. “Practice ran long. I’m on my way now.”

“It’s past seven,” You grumbled, rubbing at your eyes.

“Don’t worry! Casey and Steve didn’t bite the dust until like nine or something.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Oh well,” Lily’s cheery voice piped, “Anyways, I was gonna stop by your favorite restaurant and get us something. Then, when we get to my house, we can watch Tom Cruise in All The Right Moves. You know, if you pause it just right, you can see his penis.”

“Cool,” You scoffed with a small smile, “Just hurry up.”

“Impatient much?” Lily joked, “Does Max not put out? I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Goodbye, Lily,” You dragged out, avoiding her question. She made a disappointed noise, but you hung up before she could actually say anything. Immediately, the phone rings again. You chuckled to yourself before answering, “Lily, I’m not answering that question.”

“Hello,” The voice from before responded with your name.

“Hey, asshole,” You replied noncelantly, knowing for certain that every door, every window, every possible entrance to your house was already locked down.

“Scary night, isn’t it? With the murders and all,” He said, dropping his voice. “Are you alone in the house?”

“Wow, trying to give yourself credit,” You replied in fake interest, “So humble. Honestly, come up with something original. Who even are you?”

“I think the right question is where am I,” He corrected.

“You’re on my front porch, aren’t you,” You said sarcastically, looking out the window and seeing your entire porch. Shocker, no one was there. “Again, where’s the originality?”

“Just ask the damn question!” He screamed into the phone.

“Where are you?” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“In your closet.”

“False, I was just in there and I know for a fact you have not gotten into my house or into my closet in the last 10 minutes,” You shouted back with a smile before jumping up. “I’ll call your bluff.” You run into your room and open your closet door. Sure enough, no one was there. “Good try, but you’re not scaring me tonight.”

You hung up the phone and turned to walk out of your room and back to the living room. Just as you’re about to leave the room, a figure jumps out of the hall closet.

You scream and jump backwards as it rushes toward you, ramming into your side. The landline falls to the ground as the figure gets on top of you after you tripped trying to back up. You look up to see the figure’s face, but it’s a white, ghostly mask instead, and they are covered in a black cloak. You almost freeze completely when your eyes caught sight of a silver blade in his hands, causing you to kick your legs up spastically. One of them comes into contact between his legs, making him topple over to the side.

You use that time to roll away into your room, locking the door behind you. You pushed your dresser to block the door from opening as the figure pounded against the door. He was even throwing himself against it. The figure got the door open slightly, just enough so you could see his face and the knife, but the dresser kept it from opening any further.

You looked around your room for anything to call the police with, not find anything. Then, you remembered something your parents taught you. You loaded up your old desktop that you had been meaning to get rid of but never had the time to, and opened the 9-1-1 fax send. The figure behind you began using the knife to try and cut at the dresser as you looked back at the screen.

“Help Killer, 1220 Craven Lane,” You typed out. As soon as you hit send, the banging stopped. The figure is gone, and the only sound is your own rapid breathing.

The police responded by saying they were en route, as you heard a noise at your window. You started screaming again until your eyes landed on Max, sitting at the ledge, looking concerned and trying to open your locked window.

“Oh God, Max!” You shouted, running over to open the window for him. You didn’t even wait for him to climb in before you were learning out the window, hugging him and letting your emotions out. “He was here, Max. The killer was here.”

“The killer? The one from the news?” Max asked, curious as he moved into your room, still keeping his arms tightly around you as he ran a hand up and down your back.

“He called me last night too,” You admitted lowly, pulling away from his shoulder, wiping at your nose for a second. “I don’t know if it was before or after Casey and Steve, but he called me. He called me, said he was outside, and then you showed up. I think he was scared of you. Maybe you showing up tonight also scared him away.”

“I told you, I’d always protect you,” Max comforted as he kissed the crown of your head. “Here, I’ll take you to Lily’s house.”

The next day, the school was shut down. People were accusing others left and right. There was a curfew for sundown. Then, there was a plan for a party at Oscar’s house since his parents were out of town, and no one wanted to be alone. Or maybe you were all just a group of teenagers looking for any excuse to get drunk. Who knows?

You and Lily walked through the door slightly late with bags of snacks and drinks. The party had already started, and the living room was crowded with random people you could barely remember the names of. As soon as the two of you walked into the room, everyone erupted into cheers and a couple took the bags from you.

“Catering’s here,” Lily joked, handing the bags off. You two walked into the kitchen to find a group of guys, including Max and Lando, surrounding another guy, Oscar, who was drinking beer through a funnel. “That’s mature.”

“Where have you guys been? We had to get started without you!” Oscar shouted, shaking his head as he was already mildly drunk.

“We’re gonna have a movie night!” Lando cheered from behind them. “I’ve already got one loaded up.”

“Great, Lily, get me a beer, would ya?” Oscar asked, batting his eyes at his girlfriend. “There’s a fridge in the garage that has beer and your favorite drinks too.”

“Do I look like a beer wench to you?” Lily snapped, glaring at him.

“Oh, and there’s someone upstairs for you,” Oscar ignored Lily, directing the statement at you. “Says he just wants to talk.”

You grumbled a bit under your breath, stomping over to the stairs while Lily went to the garage. Once you reached the top, you saw Max standing there with his arms open for you.

“You guys can go up to my parents' room,” Oscar shouts from the bottom as soon as you reached Max’s arms. Oscar wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you as he teased, “You can talk or…whatever.”

“Subtlety, Oscar,” Max scolded, already turning you around and pushing you towards Oscar’s parents’ room, “Look it up!”

As soon as you made it to a room (you actually realized it was a random guest room rather than his parents’ room), you immediately locked the door behind you and pushed Max against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Max asked skeptically, eying you wearily. “I thought we were just talking.”

“Let’s blow off some steam,” You replied seductively as you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him. You leaned in and kissed him long and hard. “You think I could be a Meg Ryan movie?”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Max whispered against your neck, “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to be a good porno, y’know?” That made Max freeze and pull away slowly, looking up into your eyes. You stare back down at him. Your eyes dark with desire, something Max hadn’t seen yet.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah…I think so.”

Afterward, in your post-sex awkwardness, you were both quietly redressing, talking nonsense, and avoiding the topic of what just happened.

You turned around laughing at something Max said when your breath got caught in your throat as you saw the figure again, standing out on the balcony. “Max!” You shouted, pointing behind him as the figure broke through the glass door.

Max is barely able to turn around before the long blade rises high above his head and comes down on his chest with force. Blood sprays up in the air, and blood splatters across your face as the knife is plunged in and out of Max’s chest until Max just collapses on the floor, lifeless.

You couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry, couldn’t move, couldn’t anything. You slowly moved your head up from Max’s still body to see the figure stalking toward you, and that’s when you made a break for it.

You jump over the bed, throw the door open before running down the hallway and down the stairs. No one is in the living room now as you shout for anyone. You run through the kitchen and decide to run into the garage. Worse case scenario, you could run outside.

You get into the garage, locking the door behind you. You quickly pat down your pockets, feeling for your phone. For once, you actually had a decent perfect on your battery life, so you knew you could use that once you were certain you would be safe to call.

You were just about to call the police when the banging returned from the garage door connected to the house. You turned on the light in the garage and opened the door. The door makes a weird noise, but you're still focused on the door connected to the house where you’re certain the figure is still banging. You backed up, thinking the door would be fully opened at this point, only to hit the back of your head on the half-opened door. You grabbed the back of your head as you looked up, and what you saw made you let out a blood curdling scream.

“Lily!” You screamed as tears flowed nonstop down your face, watching helplessly as your best friend dangled from the garage door. Half of her body was out, and the other half was stuck inside since she went through the pet door. Her neck was also hanging at a weird angle, and by that alone, you knew she was dead.

You found Max’s car down the drive and made a run for it. You needed the cops here, and you needed them now. You still had a spare key to it, so you unlocked it, jumped in, locked i,t and dialed the police.

“Help! Please, I’m at Oscar Piastri’s house on Turner lane,” You shouted into the phone, “Please, he’s gonna kill me!”

While ranting to the police, you don’t notice Ghostface behind you until he grabs hold of your neck and pulls you against the seat. You spun around, wildly throwing punches and kicks.

Anything to get away.

You reach for the door, throwing yourself out and onto the ground. You dragged yourself away before looking over your shoulder to see Ghostface completely gone. Nowhere to be seen.

You push yourself up and limp your way up the stairs of Oscar’s house. At the front door laid Charles’s dead body. You reach for his holster and grab his gun as someone called your name from behind you.

You quickly spun around, holding the gun out in front of you, when Lando came into view.

“Jesus, way to take a gun,” Lando attempted to joke, but it fell flat. “We gotta get out of here.”

“Don’t come any closer,” You seethed, not sure who you could trust anymore.

“Listen to me,” Lando said slowly as he held his hands up, “I found Lily. She’s dead, she’s been killed…I think Oscar did it.”

“Don’t believe him!” Another voice shouted from behind you. You spun around to see Oscar moving closer to you. “He’s lying! He killed Lily! And Max. I saw it.”

“Stay away from me.” You tried to stay composed, but your voice wavered.

“His movie nut mind has snapped! He’s gone psycho,” Oscar defended.

“Don’t listen to him! It’s him! He’s the one!” Lando objected, not believing a single word Oscar was saying.

“Fuck you both,” You shouted before running into the house and slamming the door shut.

“No! He’s gonna kill me! Please, open the door! He’s gone mad!” Lando shouted through the door as his fists pounded against the door. You stumbled backwards before turning to try and find your phone in the living room. Just as you reach for it, it rings, causing you to jump and fumble with the device momentarily before answering it.

“Please, help me!” You shouted into the line, and you’re met with chuckles on the other side.

“Are you having fun yet?” That same fucking voice.

“No!” You screamed, hanging up and dropping the phone to the ground. You walked back over to the door, listening to Lando’s screams, and you thought for a second whether or not to unlock it for him when you heard something from upstairs. You spun around, pointing the gun up the stairwell, and you see a bloodied Max leaning against the banister.

“Oh god, Max!” You set the gun on a bookshelf before meeting him halfway, before he collapsed in your arms. “I thought you were dead..”

“I’m alright, but we gotta get help,” Max said as he pushed on the rest of the way down the stairs and straight to the door where Lando was still banging from the other side.

“No! He’s out there!” You shouted, putting yourself between Max and the door.

“Please! You have to let me in!” Lando continued to scream from outside as his knocks became more frantic. “He’s gonna kill me!”

“Don’t believe him,” You whispered, knowing Lando was listening in from teh other side.

“It’s okay, I’ll protect you,” Max said as he put his hands on your shoulders. “Do you have a weapon or something?”

“I have a gun.”

“Okay, give me the gun.”

You walked over to the bookshelf again and grabbed the gun. You quickly handed it over and stood behind Max as he opened the door. Lando rushed through, grabbing Max.

“Help me,” Lando cried.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Max comforted, holding the gun behind his back so as to not scare Lando anymore.

“No, you don’t understand,” Lando stuttered, shaking his head back and forth, “Oscar’s flipped out! He’s gone mad!”

“‘We all go a little mad sometimes’,” Max whispered with a small smile. Lando squinted at him before Max stepped back, pointing the gun at him. Max quickly pulled the trigger, sending Lando to the ground as you screamed. Max leaned over Lando’s still body and added, “Anthony Perkins. Psycho.”

You watched in horror as Max stood up slowly and turned to you. You met his eyes as your breath came out faster and heavier than before. He tilted his head slightly before flicking his tongue out to lick some of the blood off his lips that had started to dry.

“Corn Syrup,” He said with a smirk. “Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”

“You’re sick,” You muttered, taking a step back towards the kitchen. Max lunged forward in a fake-out, causing you to jump back again, but this time, you hit something, someone, behind you as their arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Ah! Oscar, please help me,” You cried once you noticed who it was. Oscar loosened his arms around you but still stared at you with wide eyes and a subtle smile. Then, he lifted his hand that held a small box.

“Surprise,” He whispered into the box, and everything clicked. “It’s more of a game, really.”

You stood between them, your eyes bouncing between the two of them before it kicked. When it finally did, you tried to make a run for it, only for Max to block the only kitchen exit. From behind you, Oscar tosses the voice box to Max, who holds it over his mouth as he lowers his eyes at you.

“Where ya going? It’s not over yet,” He teased in that distorted voice. “It’s all part of the game.”

“Fuck you,” You seethed.

“We already played that game,” Max said in a lighter tone, “You lost, remember?”

“And because you’re no longer a virgin, it means you have to die!” Oscar mocked, going over to the kitchen counter and grabbing a large knife. He walked back over to you and Max, twirling the blade around. “We’re gonna play one last game. It’s easy, really.”

“We’ll ask you a question,” Max started, “and if you get it wrong, you die!”

“And!” Oscar interrupted, “If you get it right, you still die!”

“You’re sick. Both of you,” You spat between the two of them.

“The official term is ‘psychotic’ actually,” Oscar corrected as he held a knife out towards your neck.

“You won’t get away with this,” You said through gritted teeth. “If you’re gonna kill me, at least tell me why.”

“You want a motive?” Max chuckled lowly as he walked around the kitchen. “I don’t really believe in motives. I mean, did Norman Bates have a motive?”

“Nope,” Oscar cheered, walking around you while still holding the knife near your neck.

“Did they ever explain why Hannibal Lecter liked to eat people?”

“I don’t think so,” Oscar said in a peppy tone.

“You see,” Max said as he got up close to your face, fanning his breath against your lips, “it’s so much scarier when there’s no motive, huh. I think it’s time we get to the main show, don’t you agree?”

You trembled as you watched Max and Oscar make eye contact before smirking. Then they caged you between them and the countertop.

Oscar held the knife against your neck again. This time, he actually pressed down, and you could feel your skin splitting and heating up as blood started spilling from the side of your neck.

Your breathing picked up as you looked at Max. Those blue eyes you used to get lost in for hours. Those same blue eyes that used to comfort you whenever you were anxious. Now, they were unrecognizable. You didn’t know who you were looking at anymore.

You took one last breath as you watched Max lift the gun and point it directly at your face. You stared down the barrel of the gun and waited for the inevitable.

Of course, Max would remember your ritual.

~~~~~

64 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 1 year ago

Text

Vice;Grip || chapter 3 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!!

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out. Section Specific Warnings: penetrative sex, language, reader on top, angst, depictions of depression/depressive episodes, edging, dirty talk, emotional constipation, bar scenes and recreational drinking, brief mention that reader had a sick (unspecified illness) parent in the past, sexual acts in a technically public place but they are not discovered, arguments and hurt feelings

wc: 6200

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

11 months ago

Vernon was afraid of drowning. All those rocks he carried - they weighed him down, pulled him under. He considered this as rain beat against the windshield of his car, ran down the windows so thickly that he struggled to see the front door of your building through the onslaught, didn’t even see it open and close, had no idea you were already outside until his passenger side door opened and you threw yourself into the car, squealing, wiping rain out of your eyes.

“Can you drive in this?” you asked breathlessly. Above you, the clouds lit up and went dark again. Vernon didn’t answer you; instead he silently counted the seconds until thunder cracked, sharp and insistent, somewhere behind them. Eleven seconds.

“Buckle up,” he said, no irony in it.

Stopped at a red light, he glanced over at you. Watched as you turned to trace a raindrop down your window with your fingertip as it worked its way through fragmented droplets, cast red by the stoplight, by the brake lights of the car ahead of him. Another flash; Vernon didn’t catch the bolt this time, either.

One, two, three…

Eight seconds until the thunder broke.

“Were you scared of storms when you were little?”

You turned to look at him, something quizzical on your face. He kept his eyes on the road, embarrassed. You and him - you didn’t ask personal questions. You didn’t talk about things. Even now, over a year since you’d started hooking up, you kept things strictly business, but for a few hiccups.

It was starting to wear on him, weigh on him. Neither of you had been with anyone else in a year - so what were you doing? Just spinning your wheels?

It was the first time Vernon realized he was angry. With you.

Lightning flashed as he slowed to turn into his building’s lot, the bolt snaking down so quickly he could have imagined it.

Vernon knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you for not giving him something he’d never asked for.

Thunder cracked again, above the car. Five seconds.

“Actually, yeah,” you said finally, and Vernon startled a little; he’d already forgotten he’d asked the question. “My sister and I used to hide under the bed.”

He didn’t know you had a sister. He bet you didn’t know that he had one, too.

What are you doing?

Inside, his window flashed white, the whole room going greyscale, and then darkened again. The thunder snapped, furious and louder than before, and you screamed a little, then covered your mouth with your hand to hide your self-conscious giggles.

Vernon laughed, then lowered his body over yours and murmured, “Let me help you calm down.”

Three seconds.

The rain beat against the windows in waves, the sound coming from beside his bed and the ceiling in tandem, nature’s surround sound. Vernon slid his fingers through the mess between your legs, sinking two of them deep into your heat just in time for a roll of thunder to drown out your wavering moan. He fucked you steadily, the way he knew you liked, then shifted to rub circles on that place on your front wall. Your breath caught, your back bowed, your hands fisted his comforter, your head tilted back to expose your throat. The room went white and dark again in a single second, and the silhouette of your pleasure burned into Vernon’s brain like a photo on film.

He moved to replace his fingers with his cock before the thunder could answer.

Two seconds.

You wrapped around him - your cunt squeezing around his length, your arms looping around his neck, your legs wrapping around the backs of his thighs, trying to bring him closer.

He gripped your hips and rolled, giving you the chance to ride him, his hands caressing the backs of your calves as they flexed.

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, teeth gritted as he groaned out his own answer to the clouds’ cacophony. Your hands, gentle in his hair, guided him back down.

He found your hoodie near the foot of his bed, after. He carried it wordlessly to you, holding it out like an offering.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice tiny. Like you were accepting something bigger than clothing.

“You could stay,” Vernon heard himself say, and something inside him started kicking and screaming, panicked and trying to grab the words and pull them back in.

You looked at him sharply, your eyes a little wide. You didn’t do that, you didn’t sleep over.

“Why?” you asked, the word leaving your body with all your breath, almost a gasp.

Vernon felt his lips part, felt his stomach clench. “I -”

The syllable stretched, loomed, filled the room so completely that it crowded out the flash of lightning and the immediate rumbles. Zero seconds. The pounding rain drowned out the roaring in Vernon’s ears.

Maybe he’ll drown, too. Maybe he’ll let himself.

I want you to. I want to sleep next to you.

I need to know what this is. I need to be closer.

I need to kiss you and mean it.

His stomach sank as he watched the way you waited, breath held, for his answer.

“I just meant, because of the weather,” he said, his voice ringing hollow and flat even to his own ears. “If you don’t want to go back out in this - you don’t have to.”

“Oh,” you said, and he wished he could read it, wished he could translate that single sound. Was it disappointed? Relieved?

He couldn’t fucking tell.

“No, it’s okay,” you said, and you were already moving towards the door. “I think the worst has passed us already.”

Vernon thought that was bullshit; the worst hadn’t passed - he was standing in the middle of it, wind-whipped and drenched to the bone, watching the sky alight again and again, unable to make himself move.

10 months ago

whats up for tonight

idk

want me to come there?

i dont think i want anything

sorry. shouldnt have sent that one. door’s open if you decide to.

Vernon came into the apartment so quietly, you didn’t even hear him until he was shuffling into your bedroom. The cat leapt from the foot of your bed and wove itself around his ankles twice before darting into the living room.

“You good?” he asked, eyeing how you were curled on your side, watching him in the doorway with a small frown.

“Mhm,” you said, nodding a little, even though it was only a little true. “Just. One of those days, I think.”

He laid behind you first, one arm crossing your torso and pulling you tight against his chest, pressing kisses to the bare skin above your shirt collar at the nape of your neck. The sensation tickled just enough that goosebumps rippled down your arms.

“I can make you want something,” he offered. Or threatened. Or promised.

“Cheesy,” you accused, but a smile played on your lips, and you felt his own smile curve against your neck.

“Watch me,” he said, reaching for your hem. He worked you up with teasing touches and kisses until you were squirming, fucked you on his tongue and fingers until you were panting, then pulled away, letting the building crescendo quiet into silence again.

“Vernon,” you threatened, sitting up on your elbows and narrowing your eyes at him.

He cocked his head to the side, all innocence. “Is there something you want?”

“I’m not playing this game with you,” you growled.

He smiled beatifically, then went back to kissing your collarbones, starting at the very beginning again. That time when he stopped, you let out an exasperated shout.

He cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask, yes? but didn’t speak. He waited for you to say it.

It took three more rounds of this - getting you close, waiting you out - before you caved, admitting what he wanted you to admit:

That you wanted it. That you wanted him.

“Please, fine, you menace,” you cried, so frustrated that your chest was hot with it. “I want you to fuck me - I want you, I want to cum, please, Vernon -”

When he gave you what you asked for, pushing into you in one easy motion that made you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut, your tongue tripped up, telling him a truth you hadn’t meant to.

Instead of I want it, as he set a quick pace, burying himself inside you again and again, you babbled, I want you, I want you, I want you.

The sideways glances he sent you while he got dressed had the question all over them. He may as well have just asked - did you mean it? Did you?

In his absence, you pulled the blankets over your head and pressed your face into your mattress, trying to drown out the question in his eyes, trying to forget the feeling of his lips on your neck, the sound of his sighs in your ears, the taste of his kiss. Your bed retaliated, assaulting you with his smell on your sheets.

I want you.

Kicking at the blankets in frustration, you got up and slept on the couch, instead.

9 months ago

wyd?

ah, going out with some friends tonight. sorry.

come over after?

i would, but my friend is here from out of town and shes staying with me

bring her

you’re so gross.

next time then. have fun :)

dont smiley face at me chwe hansol

oh god the government name. fine, i take it back

You hadn’t done a girls’ night in over a year; your friends made sure to remind you of this frequently as the night wore on, as if it was singularly your fault. It was different from a night out with Chan and Soonyoung and Seungkwan - different because the shots being pressed into your hands were pink instead of clear; different because no one was handing you beer bottles; different because they wanted to dance, not talk shit around a table in the corner.

But you leaned into it, sneaking to the bar between songs to order shots that didn’t taste good, dancing with your friends until your feet ached, until your ears rang, until the colored lights bled together above you, until you forgot that you were annoyed about all of this.

When the lights flashed in warning - the overhead lights, the go away now it’s 2 am lights — you went to close out your card, casting a glance over your shoulder to make sure your friends were all accounted for. They were - mostly still dancing, but a few headed to the table to gather coats.

You were heading back across the dancefloor when you saw them. You spotted Mingyu first - one of Chan’s friends, one of those cross-over friends that knew both Chan and Vernon.

Your stupid heart jumped. Had he come out? Had he somehow ended up at the same club as you? You wouldn’t be able to leave with him, but you’d see him.

That wasn’t something you should want. It shouldn’t excite you that you might get to smile at him across a crowded dance floor. You didn’t like him, this wasn’t a crush.

Besides, crushes happened at the beginning; you’d been hooking up with Vernon for over a year now.

You scanned the crowd near where Mingyu was standing, waiting for the moment that your gaze snagged on a spark of familiarity. It didn’t come, so you pressed into the crowd; at this point in the night everyone was pretty faded, dancing with abandon, unaware and uncaring that anyone could see them - you’d all be leaving in minutes anyway. This one last song should matter, this one last song should seal the envelope on the night with a lipstick kiss.

The spark of familiarity eventually struck, but it came with a flash of warning. It wasn’t Vernon’s big smile or his conversely stoic expression that you recognized, it was his jawline - snapback twisted around, his lips close to some girl’s ear as he leaned in to talk to her.

You looked away quickly, as if he’d feel your gaze and you’d be caught staring, but you couldn’t help but peek again as you kept walking. The girl was laughing, tucking dark hair behind her ear, her eyes eagerly on Vernon’s face.

Your stomach heaved. You wanted to go over there - to slide an arm behind him where it belonged, to smile in this girl’s face because Vernon was yours. Because he was going to text you before he texted her and she needed to know it. Because he let you in when he shut everyone else out and she was everyone else.

Your friends found you then, saved you from yourself, pulled you back to the table to gather your shit, trouped outside to find the Uber home.

In the car you all fell quiet, tiredness creeping up on you. Your thumbs tapped anxiously on the dark screen of your phone, and then you opened your messages.

you gonna leave with her?

The lack of response radiated through you, and you felt sick as you wondered why - because he was pissed that you’d even asked? Because he was already busy with her?

Then -

lmao were u at dark horse?

You didn’t answer, too embarrassed, the shame flying overhead to catch up to you for the first time in a while, its wings spread and claws stretched as it prepared to land.

Your phone lit up again.

i honestly wasnt gonna but now youve got me curious

would it be a problem if i did?

No, you thought defensively, a reflex. But he didn’t give you the chance to answer.

and if it IS a problem… why?

“Who are you texting?” your friend asked, craning her neck to peek at your phone. You turned off the screen.

“Chan,” you lied.

Then why?

Because he was yours and he belonged with you - not with whatever random girl he found at the club. Because you wanted to be enough for him, wanted him to be impervious to anyone else’s advances because you were all he wanted.

Because you did like him. Because you felt something for him - something that might have been a crush eight months ago, but was certainly a bigger beast now.

Fuck. Fuck!

Your feet felt like they were plunged in ice, and you closed your eyes, swallowing back panic and nausea.

At home, you lay across your bed while your friend used your shower, turning your phone screen on and off, typing and erasing, your mind dizzy with the war it was waging against itself.

Vernon was a wildfire, catching and migrating, drawing closer and closer. Something in you screamed to take action - start digging a trench, start running if nothing else, just get away get away get away before you’re not just burned but reduced entirely to ash. Something else argued that Vernon’s fire was the only thing that kept you warm, vital for survival against the icy nights that overtook you at their whim.

How to protect your dignity, deny that you need him, deny that you’re trying to keep him all to yourself, without losing him completely?

You imagined him at his place, rereading these messages. You wondered if he was mad, frustrated. You wondered if he felt suffocated by your display of possessiveness.

You’d never answered his why.

You never did. You left it unanswered, and his next three wyd’s went unanswered as well.

Then he stopped trying.

8 months ago

sorry. i - - can we just go back to normal - - wyd later? - - i’m sorry - - hey - - it’s not a problem, you can do what you want - - it is a problem because i - - sorry for not answering, hru? - -

Unsent, each. Deleted.

You had Bestie Night with Chan during a deep freeze, your radiator working overtime as you split a bottle of red.

You sketched absently on your napkin as you caught up.

“I dunno, Chan, the co-worker thing always scared me a little. Mom always says don’t shit where you eat and I think she’s right.”

Chan, who was head over ass in love with Jinseo in marketing, scoffed at you heavily.

“A romantic situation scaring you means nothing to me,” he said, dead serious. “I think someone asking for your number would scare you.”

You scowled at him, defensive. “We haven’t had enough wine to start the personal attacks.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying. You spook easy. It’s not a secret.”

You stuck out your tongue, went back to your doodle.

“It’s nice to see you drawing,” he said, casually, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Are you intent on being a busybody tonight?” you asked, and he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just saying!” he cried, still chuckling a little. “It’s nice to see! It’s a healthy outlet for you!”

“I’m kicking you out,” you deadpanned, then reached to refill your glass, because if he was in this kind of mood, you were going to need it.

In all honesty, sketching wasn’t really your thing - you weren’t drawn to pencil or charcoal or ink or even digital sketches the way you were drawn to painting. But you hadn’t in so long now you felt almost stubborn about it, like starting again would be the same as admitting something. Like starting again would mean admitting that you were dumb to quit in the first place. It would mean admitting that you’d fucked away every good opportunity you’d had, and for nothing.

Nothing had even happened - that was the part that kept you up at night, gave you a stomachache. You’d fumbled your entire future, a few years ago, and you didn’t even have a good reason for it - no major trauma, no life-altering crisis. Just your own worthless brain doing everything in its power to bring you low.

You’d graduated from undergrad already knowing you’d been accepted to a great visual arts school - prestigious, even. You’d had to submit a portfolio, had forgone sleep for months trying to make it perfect. But every time you’d tried to move on it - send in paperwork to register or officially enroll, forms for financial aid, any of it - you’d frozen like a rabbit in headlights, too scared to push a single button unless it was the X in the corner of the screen.

Your dad had been sick at the time, that was true. But he’d been okay in the end - just a few touch-and-go months, some hospital stays, nothing worse than that. He was fine now. You weren’t even living at home, didn’t have to deal with it - it didn’t factor in. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t enough to take the blame from you.

And, true, you’d just come out of an episode right before graduating, and found yourself standing among the rubble of what your life had been before the episode started noticing that your two best friends were no longer present - hadn’t waited around for you. But that wasn’t a good excuse either. Friendships faded all the time. Life went on.

“So, are you gonna ask her out?” you asked, hoping to turn the conversation.

“I would love to, but I think if I tried, I would throw up right there in front of her,” he said, and you were pretty sure he wasn’t kidding.

“Text her,” you suggested.

“That seems… so sad,” Chan admitted. “I’ve got to have the balls to just do it. Right? Aish, Lee Chan.” He buried his face in his hands, frustrated with his own cowardice, and you reached out to give his arm a reassuring pat-pat.

“Did you talk to her this week?”

“Yes,” Chan said emphatically. “We took our breaks at the same time on Thursday, and we talked about the cold snap!”

You leveled him with a look. “Have you talked to her about anything besides the weather?”

He pointed at you, expression darkening. “I will not be judged by the likes of you. When was your last date? What year?”

“Wow,” you said flatly, and he began cackling, delighted with himself. “Wow. Just… wow. I truly have nothing else to say to you.”

“Ask her if she’s watched any good shows lately,” you offered. “Then you have something you know she likes to talk to her about.”

“Eeeehhh,” Chan said, which meant I don’t think I like your idea.

You shrugged. “Stay lonely, then, I guess.”

You should have enrolled in the grad program. You should have pursued painting.

Instead, you’d convinced yourself it was stupid - not lucrative for a real career, just hobby-chasing, and you weren’t good enough anyway.

The deadline had passed. You got a job in an office, an apartment, the cat. Life went on. Your bunny-rabbit brain had said hide scared hide scared hide scared and you’d listened, had pushed away the scary thing until it was too late to grapple with it at all.

It was the parallel to now, and maybe the wine, that pushed you to look steadfastly at your kitchen wall and admit, “Actually, there’s something I haven’t been telling you.”

Chan’s smile dropped quickly, and he leaned a little closer, ready to listen.

“I’ve been hooking up with this guy,” you admitted. “For a while.”

Chan’s gaze sharpened and you wanted to flinch. “Only him?” he asked. And then, “How long is a while?”

Shame beat on the window, scratched its nails down the panes line a chalkboard, the screeching sending shivers down to your toes.

“A little over a year,” you mumbled.

Chan’s silence rippled out like you’d thrown a stone into the quarry. He said nothing, just watched you carefully, swirling his wine around in his glass just for something to do.

“That’s a long time,” he said. A long time to keep the secret from me, he meant. A long time to be with one person, you heard behind it.

“I know,” you said, deflating. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just… I knew you’d romanticize it, try to talk about it like it was a thing - and I… I really, really wanted it to stay just hooking up. None of the other stuff.”

He very nearly grimaced when you said this, and it made your stomach sink even further. You knew you were broken, unable to connect, unable to give or receive anything close to love - but to see your best friend react like he knew it too? It sucked the breath out of you.

“And he’s okay with that?” Chan asked, instead of addressing your allergy to feelings. “For a year, just sex?”

You shrugged. You were the one who’d gotten possessive. Vernon had never asked you for more, had never indicated that he might want to shift your boundaries. “Seems like it.”

Chan shifted in his seat, frowning a little. “Well, if you’re on the same page, then I guess… I’m happy for you?”

“Eh,” you said. “Don’t be. I screwed it up. As usual.”

He gives you a look that says don’t do that. You drink the rest of the wine in the glass and reach for the bottle again, but it’s empty.

“Can you fix it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I haven’t tried.”

“Okay,” Chan said easily. “So try.”

When Chan left, you stayed at the kitchen island, pulling out a notebook and pen. You sketched across four pages - flowers, faces, the clock on the wall, the frost patterns on the window.

It wasn’t a paintbrush, sliding through a shade you’d worked to make just right. But it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t terrible.

You picked up your phone.

hey. sorry for the silence - really. that was shitty of me. you been okay?

You passed your fingers back over the last page of sketches, feeling the tiny ridges where the pen had pressed. You traced back over a flower - hyacinths, just like your mother used to grow under your bedroom window.

You were prepared to receive no answer; you would have deserved a taste of your own medicine, and you knew it. But it wasn’t much later when an answer came through.

no worries. my place is freezing, our boiler broke. can i warm up there?

You thanked every star in the whole sky that Chan wasn’t there to see your smile at Vernon’s answer. You could never have denied it - the smile said I am feeling something, allergy be damned.

And just after the smile came the bunny-rabbit instincts: hide scared hide scared hide scared.

of course. i’ll be here.

7 months ago

“I think I’d be happier as a cicada,” Vernon mused, squinting at Seungkwan through the half an inch of vodka rolling like a sea in the glass he held aloft.

Seungkwan’s face dropped into a frown. “Is this, like, would you still love me if I was a worm?”

They were on opposite sides of the tiny, wooden table he usually ate at, the bottle open between them and sweating a circle onto the wood. Vernon dragged a finger through the condensation until the streak ran dry.

“Nuh-uh. I just think I’d be happier.”

The frown deepened. “I can’t tell if you’re being ironic or if I need to be concerned about you.”

Vernon dodged, said something that might make more sense outside of his own head. “What if I dropped out of grad school?”

The vodka in the glass did nothing to blur the flat expression Seungkwan leveled at him. “Now what in the fuck would you do that for with only four months left? That’s just financially stupid. It’d be like running a marathon and giving up on mile twenty-two.”

“Counter-point,” Vernon said, lowering the glass as far as his mouth, teeth clicking on the rim of the glass, “I fucking hate it and I don’t see the point in finishing.”

“Money down the drain,” Seungkwan intoned.

“Years of my life down the drain,” Vernon grumbled.

“That actually adds to my point. You’ve invested time and money. Might as well see it through.”

“But for what?” Vernon demanded, finally getting closer to the truth he’s been circling.

“The job opportunities?”

Vernon drained his glass, waited for things to soften just a little around the edges. “I don’t know if I want them anymore,” he mumbled, then made an escape into the kitchen to put another few ice cubes in his glass, to get away from the way Seungkwan’s gaze sharpened as he caught on to how much Vernon meant what he was saying.

The problem was that he had to leave the kitchen eventually, and Seungkwan was waiting, his face carefully blank.

“You don’t want to -?”

“I don’t know,” Vernon interrupted with a grumble. And that was the truth - he just didn’t know. He didn’t know if he’d like his field, didn’t know if he’d be good at it or if he’d find it fulfilling or if he’d hate it and regret his choices and wake up every day feeling just as bored and - frankly - unenthused about his life as he did these days.

And he was tired. He woke up tired every day, fought exhaustion the whole time he was awake, went to bed tired. His eyes ached from wanting to close, his heart screamed for a chance to rest. He was tired of it - of fighting the exhaustion, the apathy. He wanted sometimes (often) to just give in - sleep however long it took. Months, maybe.

“Gonna have to pay your bills somehow,” Seungkwan reasoned. “See? Cicadas don’t have bills,” Vernon argued, and Seungkwan rolled his eyes so hard that Vernon couldn’t help but laugh, leaning sideways against the kitchen’s doorframe as his body shook with it.

Later, after Seungkwan left for the night, Vernon squinted at his phone until the letters held still.

wanna be a cicada with me?

vernon what the fuck

its a serious question

i mean, maybe??? sleep for seven years, come out and scream for three months, then die? i could get behind this plan

i knew you’d get it. seven years of sleep? bet.

personally i think screaming for three months straight would fix me

exactly.

[ ]

wanna come over?

yeah. omw

“You’re so drunk.”

Vernon squinted at you, unsure if he was hearing judgement in your tone (which would be rich) or if he was projecting (much more likely). “‘S ‘Kwan’s fault,” he muttered, still squinting, even though it really wasn’t Seungkwan’s fault. In fact, Seungkwan had been the one to twist the top back on the vodka bottle and walk it gingerly to Vernon’s freezer, claiming he was just helping tidy up when they both knew he’d thought Vernon had had enough.

Vernon was still seated at his little table, body turned so the wall behind him held him up as he leaned back against it. When you dropped into his lap, his arms came around you automatically, pulling you in tight. You leaned into him, brushing your lips gently across his cheekbones, down his jaw, and then resting your head against his shoulder so that you were almost burrowed in the nape of his neck.

The room swam around him a little, but Vernon flexed his hands against your waist every time it spun too much and it helped him ground himself, helped him remember that if you weren’t spinning then he couldn’t be either.

“They molt, too,” you said, and for a long minute Vernon thought he’d blacked out and missed part of the conversation. But then you ran a hand down his chest, letting it land on his forearm, and clarified, “Cicadas. They shed their skin. I like that part, too. Getting to step out of a self that doesn’t fit now, leave it behind - leave behind physical proof that you aren’t that, now.”

Vernon’s hands flexed around you for a different reason.

He liked that, too - the idea of leaving himself behind, a self he didn’t want to be anymore.

His eyes slipped shut, but he heard himself say, “So, it’s settled, then. We’ll be bugs.”

Your giggle, the light sound of it as well as the feeling of your body moving against his, brought him back a little, and he cracked his eyes open to see you smile.

“Yeah,” you told him, sitting back up and smiling lightly. “We’ll be bugs.”

6 months ago

going out with seungcheol-hyung later. u gonna be out?

yeah - going to maestro with some friends

i dont think hyung would step foot into maestro but i’ll try

Vernon is sharp. Sharp wit, sharp eyes, sharp angles, sharp smile twisting into something leering.

You were chasing lights, trying to track pink beams as they carved paths across the club’s dark walls, when you caught his gaze across the crowded dance floor. He leaned against the bar, watching you, still and jagged, a serrated edge.

You held his gaze long enough for him to know it was a message, then you began pushing your way through the mass of people around you - not towards him, but away, towards the barely lit back hallway that led to the bathrooms.

You knew he’d follow. You didn’t have to check.

When he pressed you into a dark corner, you wrapped an arm around the back of his neck for stability and let your eyes slip closed, let the colors you’d been chasing flow around you as you floated.

“Where’d your hyung go?” you breathed as Vernon traced your silhouette with heavy hands.

“Don’t care,” he muttered.

He tucked his chin low, focused, slid one hand up the trembling inside of your thighs, slipped his fingers past the thin layer of your panties, pushed two fingers deep inside you and sucked in a breath when you moaned out loud, your head falling back against the wall.

“Already fucking wet for me, so wet for me,” he growled, fingers working you in even, steady pumps that made your walls flutter and your legs shake. “Didn’t even do anything yet.”

You whimpered his name, the muted bass from the club’s main room settling around you like a fog, syncing up with your pounding pulse. You said it again, a little louder, desperate. Somewhere in your mind, you were aware that you could be found, and that piece of you urged him to be quick.

“Hurry -” you gasped, “-before -”

“Hurry?” he laughed, the sound almost mocking. “Why would I hurry? Want to stay knuckles deep in this pussy all night -”

You gasped, your hips bucking, and he groaned out loud, unashamed.

“Fuck, you fucking gushed when I said that, christ,” he whined, voice suddenly thinner, like it might crack. Like he might shatter, leave more sharp pieces behind.

You shattered before him, trying desperately to keep the long, keening noise buried in your throat as he pushed the pads of his fingers against your front wall, urging out every last shudder.

When he slipped his fingers from you, he paused, face freezing with his mouth stretched into an exaggerated grimace as he tried to work out where to wipe them. It surprised both of you when you surged forward and grabbed his wrist, bringing his sticky fingers to your mouth and licking a stripe from the edge of his palm to his fingertips before taking them between your lips.

You thrilled when his eyes rolled back, when he slapped his spare hand against the wall next to your head to brace himself, when he rutted against you furiously as if you weren’t in plain view of anyone who decided they had to pee right now. He pressed against you, so hard you could feel the heat of him even through his pants, as you laved his fingers with your tongue, mimicking what you’d be doing on your knees if you were in private.

“If I cum in my pants in the fucking club, I’m going to be so mad at you,” he gasped, and it made you laugh, giving him the chance to pull his hand away, to back away from you desperately, chest heaving. You laughed again, feeling a little victorious.

You straightened yourselves up and made your way back to the bar; you ordered shots and took them in succession. Then, one eyebrow raised, you asked him, “So - want to finish what you started?”

He laughed, teeth flashing. You ordered a ride on your phone. You stood and he trailed you closely as you made your way unsteadily through the crowd. A group of girls tried to pass the opposite way and you had to pause, stopping short as they wiggled past you, sending you grateful smiles. Vernon bumped into your back, his hands finding your waist.

You stayed there, even when the path cleared, feeling his body solid against yours, his hands tight on you, losing yourself in the tidal pulsing of the room, as if the whole club inhaled and exhaled each time the beat changed up.

“What?” Vernon asked behind you. “What is it?”

Everything in your bloodstream - from alcohol to adrenaline to oxytocin to you weren’t even sure what else - spoke for you. Turning just slightly, you asked him something you’d kept caged for months on end.

“When are you gonna leave?”

Shock crossed his face before he could school it. Then, confusion, or something like it, his brows furrowing. “You want me to go?”

“No,” you said quickly, knowing what you’d already said was a mistake, knowing anything else you said could only make it worse, but unable to stop the words that your mouth provided. “No, I didn’t mean tonight. I just. I meant… in general.”

Something cold slid over his face. “That’s not better,” he said, his voice suddenly so even that it sent shivers down your arms. You turned to face him fully; around you, bodies moved, voices shouted, and the music was almost deafening.

You barely noticed any of it.

“I meant -”

“I know what you meant,” he interrupted, angry. You could see it all over him - his shoulders tight, his mouth turned down. “You meant you’re just riding out your sentence with me until I inevitably leave you. Right?”

“I -” No, you meant to say, but he was kind of right, and it was confusing.

He shook his head, took a step away from you. Miraculously, the crowd let him. “This is bullshit,” he told you, his voice low and brittle with hurt. “You don’t get to fucking put that on me - you’re the one who runs in this - in whatever this is.”

He took another step back, shaking his head, obviously disgusted.

“Vernon, that’s not - I do not run -” You couldn’t choose what to argue first; your head swam, and you pressed a hand to your eyes for a second, hoping to clear them. “Why are you so mad?” you asked plaintively, looking at him again.

He laughed, just as mocking as he’d been when he was toying with you in the back hallway. “Why am I mad?” he repeated. “Go fuck yourself.”

Vernon was always sharp. He left you standing there, bleeding on the dancefloor.

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thank you so much for reading!!! i'll update again next friday :)

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years ago

Text

“Neither of you are getting it.”

Twin sighs come from his laptop speakers. Lance lifts his head up from where he’s smushed it into his pillow to glare at his two best friends who apparently hate him, for some reason.

“I mean, there’s not much to get,” Pidge says. “You’re a big dumb gay loser and this predicament effects you emotionally.” She looks at Hunk as if to ask, right?, and Hunk, who is a traitor of the worst kind, shrugs in agreement.

“I don’t even get what you’re worried about, man. You have consistently been the one to get him the best gifts for years. None of us even try to beat you.”

“That’s the point!” Lance shrieks. “You’re not listening! I had ideas every other year, Hunk! This year I have nothing!” He taps his head aggressively. “There is not one thing in here! Nada!”

Pidge snickers. “Well, that’s not new.”

“Can it, Pidgeon.”

Hunk holds his hands up placatingly before the two of them can really start to go at it. “Alright, alright. Pidge, have mercy on him. He’s suffering. Lance —” he falters. “Dude, you walked into that one. Sorry.”

Lance will concede to that point. He kind of set his own trap. But still, he’s having a crisis, Pidge as his best friend should be going easy on him, so he sticks his tongue out at her.

“I just — ugh.” He takes a moment to fluff his pillows back up before falling backwards on them and throwing a hand over his face. This is a ridiculous thing to be so bothered by, and he knows it, but he is. Bothered by it, that is. He hasn’t been this lost since the first year they were in space.

“Lance,” Hunk says gently, startling him. “It’s August, dude. Keith’s birthday is two months away. You really, truly, do not need to be stressing about it.”

Lance’s eyes trace the long-faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. His gazes unfocuses on the red-orange star that represents Pollux, which has always been his favourite.

“This will be the first time I’ve seen him in months,” Lance says quietly. “I want him —” he swallows. The dryness of his throat makes his voice scratchy. “I want to be perfect.”

It. He had meant to say, I want it to be perfect. Because that’s what he wants — he wants Keith to get here safely and actually be able to stay this time and nothing to go wrong and him to celebrate his birthday surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and family. And — Lance. Wants to be there. Also.

He swallows again. It’s harder this time.

“He’s going to love anything you give him,” Pidge says, uncharacteristically soft. “You know he’s just going to be glad to see you upright and in one piece.”

Lance winces and the strained quality of her voice, the sudden darkness in Hunk’s expression. He knows he’s the cause of it.

It was hard on the team, his death.

He knows it was. That’s why he never talks about it. (They were never supposed to even know about it. When Lance’s soul was yanked back into his body and Allura gasped in relief and hugged him to her chest and sobbed out, I thought I was too late, Lance clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. When he had rare moments on their long trip home where the adrenaline began to fade and he felt his heart begin to slow, he picked fights. He ran sims. He made stupid decisions. He kept his body distracted and his mind wound so tightly around Red’s that there was no chance for it to slip, to remember what had happened to him, to fade back into that dark and silent place. He kept his mouth shut and kept his quintessence dragged up to the highest level he could bring it.

And when they defeated Sendak, and they had to sacrifice their lions or sacrifice their friend, Lance’s hands shook and he made the obvious choice. And he doesn’t know what happened, when the adrenaline finally faded and the one thing keeping him tethered to their plane disappeared, but he knows when his soul was yanked back into his body, permanently this time, his friends wouldn’t answer his questions or let him out of their sight and all of them had the same haunted look to their eyes. He has never had the strength to ask. But he has been careful with himself, since. He covers his Altean marks — a testament of how much Allura gave of herself to keep him alive — and keeps his feet planted on Earth and out of danger and knows that he owes it to them to keep himself safe.)

“Well, anything I could give him would be better than what you got him last year,” Lance says loudly, beating back the oppressive silence that has fallen over them. It works — Pidge scowls at him, remembering the plant she had got him that had turned out to be highly toxic to any Galra. Hunk snickers at the memory of the bright blue hives that had covered Keith’s skin for weeks.

“How was I to know?” Pidge cries. Hunk and Lance’s increasing laughter only seems to make her angrier “He — ugh! It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you handmade him a leather sheath for his knife so he wasn’t looking at what I was giving him anyway! Shut up! Ugh!”

“It’s true,” Hunk agrees, chuckling. “We should make you gift stuff last. It’s not fair and makes everyone else look bad. He couldn’t take his eyes off that sheath, last year. He still wears it every day.”

Pidge mutters something in her hand that sounds suspiciously like “he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone,” so Lance ignores her in favour of whining again.

“Yeah, well, there’s no point this year because I’ve got nothing. I started making that sheath in June. I started making his jacket from two years ago in March. But this year I didn’t have any ideas and now I don’t have the time, even if I do come up with something. ” He sighs, defeated. “It sucks. I’ve hardly seen him outside of a computer screen and I’m only going to see him less, and I can’t even give him something to remember me by.”

“You’re talking like you’re never going to see him again,” Pidge points out. “There would be way less pressure if you just — saw him more, dude.”

Lance scoffs. “Yeah, right. Lemme just pack up and run off to space with him. Boom, all problems solved.”

He blinks.

He sits up so fast he very nearly brains himself on his bed frame.

“Holy shit,” he whispers. He looks over at his friends, who are smiling widely. His heart pounds.

Holy shit.

“I gotta go,” he shouts, scrambling to grab his laptop.

“Goodbye, Lance,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes fondly.

Pidge makes a crude gesture at him because she’s the worst. “Bye, gay pining loser!”

He slams the laptop lid shut and holds it tightly to his chest. Everything, finally, starts to click into place — Lance smiles; small at first, but quickly his mouth spreads so wide his cheeks ache, and his eyes practically squish shut.

He knows what to do.

———

On the morning of October 23rd, he is stressing.

“You’re embarrassing,” calls Allura, from where she‘s been lazing on the couch and eating pineapples for the last three days.

“I regret asking for your help,” Lance grunts, struggling to lift a sack of flour. He side eyes her. “Especially because you’re supposed to be helping, Miss Superstrength.”

Allura snorts, shoving another chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “I am helping. If I wasn’t here you would have talked yourself out of this several times over. You’re welcome!”

“Ugh,” Lance says, because she’s right and he knows it. “I’m not letting you lick the spoon.”

“What? Hey!”

He does let her lick the spoon. Because he has no discipline. But to her eternal credit she does actually help, too, and in more ways than just picking him up and physically shaking him out of his many freak outs, and he has a lot of them.

He’s been planning this for weeks. There are so many aspects, so many moving parts, that it’s just — stressful. Trying to put together a party that balances all the people who want to come together and celebrate Keith’s 25th with every single time constraint and restoration effort and even Keith’s own discomfort with too much fanfare is…a lot. Plus all the actual stuff that goes into hosting people at a party — Lance absolutely would not be able to do any of this without Allura’s help. She is, after all, his best friend, even though she drives him crazy and always has, in more ways than one.

At eleven thirty, when all the (tasteful, despite what his siblings had insisted was too boring) decorations have been set up and most of the food has been prepared, Allura clasps her palms to his cheeks and says, “Lance, breathe.”

Lance looks at her with wide eyes and says, “I’m cancelling everything.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? This is — cringe. Ridiculous.” His chest shakes on an inhale. “What was I thinking, ‘Llura?”

She hums thoughtfully. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones, wiping away the makeup that covers his Altean marks, making Lance twitch but not move.

“You were thinking,” she says quietly, “about how long it has been since everyone has been on the same planet.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“And how much we have all missed each other.

His shaking hands come up to grip her wrists, breath shuddering as he exhales.

“Yes.”

“And. Maybe. How much you miss Keith.” She pulls her hands away from his face and wraps them around his hands. “How much you miss the stars, even.”

“I’m scared,” he admits.

She squeezes his hands. “When has that stopped you?”

———

It’s three thirty and there’s still no sign of Keith.

Shiro and the rest of the Atlas crew, including Hunk and Veronica, arrived arrived sometime around one. The Holts came in right on their heels. Kolivan, Krolia, and a few other Blades Keith has kept up with over the years showed up a few hours ago. Lance’s family has been here the whole time, and Coran and Romelle came with Allura. Everyone that Lance had invited to come is here.

Except the one person Lance actually wants to come.

“Lance,” Shiro greets, somehow sensing his anxiety like the guru goody goody he is and popping up next to him.

Lance smiles anyway. He’s missed him too much to do anything else — he hasn’t seen anyone on the Atlas since their last restock, ten weeks ago.

“Hey, Shiro.”

“You freaking out?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’d be shocked if you weren’t, you walking Xanax advertisement.”

That startles a laugh out of Lance, and he shoves him, grateful for the distraction. Shiro grins wide and throws an arm around him, guiding him away from the front door — where he’s been biting his nails and staring at the sky in anxious hope for the last twenty minutes — and back to the rest of the party, ducking under flailing limbs and the random football that someone has brought out for some reason (Marco, probably).

“He’s gonna come, you know. He’s been excited about it since you invited him. I have received no less than nine hundred and twenty-two texts about it. It’s all very sweet and embarrassing. He’s coming, Lance.”

Lance huffs. “Unless he’s dead or maimed somewhere. I did some quick stat evals and there’s at 37% chance he was attacked on the flight to Earth and is bleeding out as we speak.”

Shiro stops them. He blinks at Lance several times. He sighs.

“You actually need to see a psychiatrist. Genuinely.”

“Nah.”

Shiro flicks him on the forehead, but the fond smile stays affixed to his face. Soon Lance finds himself relaxing, tucked under Shiro’s arm. He’s probably right — he usually is. Keith is chronically late, just as a person. Lance even told him the party started at ten just to make it more likely that he’d show up before everyone left. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be places — he just struggles with the concept of time passing, and also gets distracted a lot. (There are a lot of people who need Keith’s help, after all, and he’s a bleeding heart if Lance has ever known one. All humans are wired to respond to calls for help, but Keith seems almost attuned to them. If Lance thinks about his crooked smile and kind eyes for too long he gets physically nauseous.)

As Lance’s watch ticks its way to four o’clock, a light streaks across the sky, and before Lance knows what he’s doing he ducks under Shiro’s arm and starts running. He flings open the back gate and slides down the sandy hills, barely managing not to trip on rocks and pits in the sand where children have dug little pools. He doesn’t bother to slow as the aircraft makes its fiery descent, confident the pilot will not hit him, and by the time he makes it across the beach his bare feet burn and he’s stepped on a sharp shell and lost his jacket somewhere near the house. But it doesn’t matter, because the craft lands and seconds later the door flings open and Keith comes sprinting out, still clad in armour, hair long and thick and braided back, and he runs at Lance at full speed and they collide at the top of a sand dune and Lance leaps into his arms and Keith loses his balance and they go tumbling down, laughing, Keith’s hand on his waist and Lance’s fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders.

“You made it!” Lance shouts, smile wider than he ever thought capable.

Keith laughs again, full-bodied and relieved, crooked incisors on full display and long neck pulled back as his head rests on the ground.

“I know! I’m late, I’m sorry, I lost track of time and —”

“You always lose track of time,” Lance says warmly. He traces a strand of hair that has loosened from Keith’s braid, brushing it off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He stays where he is, half-pinning Keith into the sand, knees on either side of him, re-memorizing the curve of his grin and the indigo of his eyes and the scars on his face and the softness of his gaze. Suddenly his chest aches, painful in the best possible way, and his stomach pits and swirls and butterflies flutter wildly in his abdomen. Heat zaps up his veins and sparks through his arteries. The slowly setting mid-autumn sun casts golden light on Keith’s face and Lance is reminded, again, how breathtaking things are outside of Earth.

“Happy birthday,” he breathes, choking on the words.

Keith’s eyes crinkle. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb pressing gently on the gold Altean marks. They curve perfectly around the shape of his fingerprint.

“I missed you, Bluebell.”

Someone huffs. “Yeah, and he nearly killed us trying to get here. Some kind of leader you are, Captain.”

Keith flushes, gently pushing Lance up so he can get up and glare at Ezor properly. “We were fine!”

“We crossed nine hundred million lightyears in two days!”

“I took a shortcut!”

“Through weblum mating grounds!”

Lance punches his friend in the shoulder. Keith pouts at him, wounded.

“You flew through weblum mating grounds?!”

“It was fine!” Keith defends. “It wasn’t even an issue!”

Acxa scoffs incredulously. “We were chased by fourteen weblums at once, Kogane.”

“But did you die?”

All three of Keith’s crew roll their eyes. Keith crosses his arms smugly. Lance loves him so fiercely that it hurts.

“Keith!”

With what Lance can only call divine instinct, he has enough forethought to throw himself out of the way before a five foot nothing blur throws herself at Keith’s person and sends them both crashing to the ground, significantly more painfully that Keith and Lance’s whole thing. Keith groans loudly, but Pidge doesn’t even give him half a second to complain, dragging him back upright and hugging him properly. Keith, softie that he is, hugs her back immediately, smiling into her hair.

“Hey, Pidge.”

“Happy birthday, loser! Birthday beats!”

She, immediately, starts to let him have it, impervious to Keith’s yelps. He attempts to squirm away, but Zethrid, lover of violence and also loud supporter of Pidge in general, firmly clamps onto his shoulder to allow Pidge to assault him in peace.

“That was twenty-six!” he says in outrage when she finishes.

She smiles pleasantly. “You were late.”

Hunk, thankfully, chooses that moment to jog over, carrying an ice pack because he’s an angel and also a genius.

“Figured Pidge would come in fists swinging,” he jokes, leaning down to hug Keith tightly. “Happy birthday, man. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Keith protests, but he looks like he agrees.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to flock over, despite the fact that it would be much easier for everyone to just wait for Keith to walk over to them. Lance isn’t surprised — it’s not like he could wait, after all. When Keith is around, people gather. Such is the way of the world.

He smiles at the crowd of Keith’s loved ones, and especially at the bewilderment on his face. It’s been years, but Lance knows that he still gets surprised when he’s reminded how big his family has gotten. It’s nice to see that reminder written all over his face. He edges out of the smattering of people and starts to head back to the house, figuring he might as well start setting up the table to get dinner started now that Keith’s here. Most of it is already cooked and keeping warm in the oven, but he figured it would be best to wait until everyone was ready to —

“Hey, Lance, wait up.”

He startles when a hand wraps its way around his wrist, relaxing when he recognises the calloused fingers and leather-covered palm. Keith jogs over the rest of the way now that he has Lance stopped, falling into step next to him.

“What’re you doing?” Lance asks, looking at him urgently. “Go say hi to everyone!”

Keith shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He flashes another smile at Lance and it’s crooked and familiar and Lance is weak in the knees. “I started an argument about human versus Altean time measuring systems. Everyone is now picking sides. They won’t notice I’m gone for the next ten minutes at least. I’m all yours, Sharpshooter.”

Lance resists the urge to bury himself in the sand and die of mortification. There’s actually no physical reason for Keith to look the way that he does. It’s — too much. The smouldering eyes and sturdy shoulders are one thing, but with the whole — grin and hair and wide hands and fucking — everything else; it’s too much. It’s a lot. Keith should maybe — wear a mask, or something. Or a hood. Or be more of a klutz, just so he’s humbled slightly.

“Oh,” Lance croaks, trying desperately not to focus on the way Keith’s hand is still holding onto Lance. “That’s — cool.”

“Cool.”

Blue, Red, if your spirits are still kicking around somewhere, send help, he prays at the heavens.

Apparently they are, because the heavens do indeed provide.

The air in front of the sparks and warps, flashing blue so bright Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He hears a loud bark, and opens his eyes again just in time to catch the ball of fur and floof that throws himself into his arms.

“Kosmo!” he cries, pulling away from Keith in his haste to hug the space-wolf tightly. Kosmo yips in delight, covering Lance’s face in dog slobber as he wiggles around in excitement. “Oh, buddy, I was wondering where you were! Mwah! Mwah mwah mwah!”

“He saw the crowd on the descent and got nervous,” Keith explains, scratching Kosmo’s fur fondly. “He was hiding in the back, huh, buddy?”

“Like father like son,” Lance teases. He adjusts the big dog into his arms so he’s half on his shoulders, panting right next to his ear and giving him gross slobbery kisses every three seconds.

“I do not hide from crowds,” Keith huffs. “And he can walk, Lance. Don’t baby him. He’s always spoiled after he hangs out with you.”

“You do so. And of course I spoil the little baby!” Lance coos, scratching under his chin. Kosmo howls in excitement, tail thumping hard against Lance’s hip. “Who’s the bestest boy? Who is my favourite in the whole big universe? It’s you! Yes, Kosmo-baby, it’s you! Good boy!”

“He’s not your favourite,” Keith grumps.

“Yes he is! Oh, yes he is!”

He coos over Kosmo for the whole walk back to the house, only setting him down when they make their way to the kitchen. Keith grabs the dog gently under the ear when he finally stands on his own, bending down to look him straight in the eyes.

“Kosmo,” he says quietly, angling himself slightly away from Lance, “remember what we Talked About.” He stares at the wolf for several moments. “You know. About the — thing.”

Amazingly, the dog seems to bark in understand. Keith nods in satisfaction, patting him on the head. “Good. Go do.” With a poof Kosmo disappears again, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen.

Lance pouts. “Aw. I wanted to spend more time with him. I haven’t seen him in months.”

Keith looks affronted. “You haven’t seen me in months!”

Lance turns away to hide his smile, busying himself with the food. “Eh.” He waves an oven-mitt-clad hand dismissively. “I text you all the time.

“You’re a bully,” Keith pouts. “You’re being mean to me on my birthday.”

“At the party I put together for you, dweeb. Don’t you pout at me.”

In response, Keith inserts himself into Lance with the guise of helping him plate and pouts harder.

“Bully,” he emphasizes.

Lance flicks him on the nose. Keith catches his hand and holds it hostage between two of his, rubbing his thumb along the bump of Lance’s wrist. Lance considers screaming.

“Help or get out of my kitchen,” he manages instead.

Smirking, Keith does, loading garlic knots onto a plate and stealing several, thinking he’s slick. He’s not — Lance notices, but it’s Keith’s birthday and Lance also ate like six already, so he lets it slide.

They have everything ready to go in under five minutes, loading up as much as they can carry and heading outside to set it all out. Everyone else is back by the time they get there, and Hunk and Shiro scramble to come help set up. Very quickly the party is in full swing, people eating and laughing and wishing Keith a thousand happy birthdays. Keith has always claimed to hate attention and crowds, but he’s — glowing, really. His smile doesn’t leave his face. Maybe it’s that he’s older and maybe it’s that he knows everyone. But more likely it’s the easy confidence that’s grown in him over the years, sprouting from the knowledge that he is good and he is kind and he is loved, and trusting everyone who assures him this is true. Lance remembers when he hunched his shoulders and scowled at anyone who looked at him too long. Now he smiles when someone calls his name.

There’s no rhyme or reason to the party. Lance had attempted to plan it, but given up quickly — he knows his people. They’ll flutter around something until inspiration hits and they’ll flutter around something else. The only constant has been food and loading Kosmo up with affection.

As the sun begins its journey below the horizon, someone — Adam — forces Keith into a random lawnchair and says, “Open your gifts, gremlin.”

Immediately, everyone else clambers to grab their gifts and gather around, ignoring Keith’s protests of “I’m twenty-five goddamn years old, I don’t need gifts, you people waste your time and money —” and arguing over who goes first.

Adam goes first. Obviously.

Despite Keith’s grumbling, he’s very obviously touched. He gets a range of things, from a fancy knife from his mother (again) to a framed photo from Shiro, with he and Adam grinning widely at a camera as a young Keith snores in Shiro’s lap. Keith starts bawling some time around gift number three and never really stops. Lance tries to hand him tissues, but after he uses up an entire box decides to let him be a big emotional dork in piece.

“Is this a crystal from the first Balmera we ever visited,” Keith sobs.

Hunk smiles, amused. “It is.”

He makes his way over to Keith’s lawn chair and hugs him tightly for several minutes, muttering something and pressing dozens of kisses into his hair. Keith holds him tightly. Lance himself cries on several occasions, but he’s not alone.

“I just love everyone so much,” Keith blubbers.

“Here we go,” teases Allura, but she’s the one to shoo everyone out of his space to give him a break. “Take a few minutes, darling. Gather yourself. Let me know when you’re up for company again.”

Keith nods at her gratefully. Kosmo makes his way onto Keith’s lap and plants himself there, curling up and laying his head on Keith’s knees. Lance sits on the lawn chair next to Keith, offering him a glass of water that he accepts gratefully.

“I do this every year,” Keith laments, attempting to dry his eyes.

Lance pats him delicately on the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s charming.”

Keith sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.”

Lance is the only one who hasn’t given Keith his present. Well, and Allura, technically, since she’s part of it. Part of him wants to do it now, get it over with. He even finds the words for it, but then Pidge hollers something about cake, and Keith, who has the biggest sweet tooth in the entire universe, brightens, looking at Lance hopefully, and Lance swallows it down.

“Go sit at the table,” Lance orders. “I’m doing candles and you’re blowing them out.”

“That’s babyish,” Keith protests stubbornly.

“No candles, no cake.”

“Ugh.”

Keith gets up and goes to sit at the table, Kosmo pattering after him.

Smiling to himself, cheeks redder than he would like, Lance ducks back into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards for the candles he bought the other day and carefully pulling the cake out of the fridge.

It’s chocolate-chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. Quadruple chocolate. It’s chocolate cake with chocolate custard and chocolate frosting covered in chocolate decorations. What it is is sugar on a platter, and Keith will devour it. Lance spent more hours than he’s willing to admit on making it. If anyone questions him even a little he is going to die on the spot.

He carefully sticks twenty six candles — one for wishing — on the top of the cake, lighting twenty-five of them. Everyone is already sat down by the time he walks back outside, and the second Coran sees them he starts singing loudly, and everyone else is quick to join in. As much as Keith tries to roll his eyes about the truly startling amount of flame on his cake, nothing he can do can hide the obvious excitement that lights up his face upon sight of the chocolate monstrosity. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles when the song ends, extinguishing all but one. Immediatey, a ripple of teasing snickers and ooooooou’s fill the air.

“One candle left! You’re gonna get a boyfriend this year!” Pidge shouts, looking directly at Lance.

Both Keith and Lance flush up to their foreheads.

“Cut the cake!” Allura shouts, because she is a true ally and Lance loves her.

Grateful for the distraction, Lance does, nudging Keith out of the way when he tries.

“If you cut the cake then you can’t get the first slice, dorkbrain. Sit down. Let me.”

He does let Lance cut the cake, which makes Lance feel touched for some reason. God, Shiro is right. He needs a psychiatrist. He hates it when Shiro is right.

He’s very smug to receive dozens of compliments on his cake, highest of all from Keith, who scarfs down his first piece in literal seconds (thirty seven, to be exact). He has several more. There will be no leftovers.

But Lance knew that.

It doesn’t take long for people to start milling about again; finishing their dessert and picking at the various fruit trays and chatting and watching the last rays of sun disappear. Lance twitches nervously, stealing glances at Keith, until Allura walks up to him, pinches him on the shoulder, and says, “Get your quiznak together.”

And Lance grumbles, “Yeesh, woman. Alright,” and forces himself to walk over to Keith, who is spinning some hugely exaggerated story to Nadia and Sylvio.

“Children,” Lance says when Keith finally takes a breath, “Tío Lance has to talk to Keith about boring adult things. Go harass your Tío Marco, it will be fun.”

“Quieres tiempo a solas con tu nooooooovioooooo,” the twins singsong in unison, and then run away cackling. Lance flushes bright red and considers pelting strawberries at them like the little shits deserve.

“What was that?” Keith asks, bewildered.

“Probable cause,” Lance mutters darkly.

Keith snorts. “Please don’t murder your niblings.”

“That’ll be my gift to you. Not committing homicide on your birthday.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, not really.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “You mean…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “This isn’t already my gift?”

Lance shrugs.

“Lance, come on! This is more than enough. It must have taken you weeks to prepare.” He shakes his head, looking at Lance with soft, kind eyes. “You always do so much for me.”

Lance shudders, weak under Keith’s gaze.

“I like to.” He pauses. “I miss you. Always. It — fills the time, to do things for you.”

Keith reaches up and brushes some sand from Lance’s hair. He lingers, after, tracing his fingers along the shell of his ear, resting his hand against Lance’s neck. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into it, letting himself have this affection he’s craved like nothing else for months.

“I miss you, too. Constantly. Sometimes you’re all I think about, up there.” He sighs, and Lance can hear the tired, enticing smile on his face. “Wish you were watching my back again, Sharpshooter. No one else does it quite like you.”

Lance forces his eyes open again, although he can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s eyes. He traces the crooked line of his nose, instead, the tilt of his thick brows.

“You going back tonight?”

“Nah, I’ll stay a couple days. I’ve got nothing pressing for another week.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him, chants the Allura that lives in his head.

Give me a goddamn second, he snaps back at it.

“Uh, Allura and I have been. Working. On a project.”

Keith tilts his head. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s here a lot. Obviously.” He gestures to his Altean marks, which he has just remembered are uncovered. He’s fine — all systems are running and he is a-okay. But his situation was a little different than Shiro’s. A little more Frankenstein. Lance depends on quintessence heavier than anyone else — he’s probably fine to make his own and live his life, but…he’s always struggled with depression. And Allura worries. So she wormholes to Earth regularly to hang out and make sure he’s not too low.

They have a lot of time to scheme, the Blue Paladins of Voltron.

“Obviously,” Keith agrees. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t avoid looking at his marks; doesn’t wince when he’s reminded of them. The only change in his eyes is a look of determination, a renewed intensity in which he watches Lance. It’s a little bit intoxicating.

“I love Earth,” Lance says quietly. “It will always be my home. I will always want to come back here. I want to die here.” He finally meets Keith’s eyes. “But.”

Keith’s eyes are wide. The hand still resting on the curve of Lance’s neck twitches, slightly.

“But?” he asks, breathless.

“I’ve been helping her organize plans for a castleship. A little smaller than the old one, but — you know. Similar. It’s something to do. I’ll feel better knowing you guys are together, up there, fighting as a team together. There’s the Atlas, but it’s not the same. It’s not Voltron.”

“Oh.” Some of the excitement dims from Keith’s expression, although he takes great care to keep the smile firmly on his face. “That’s great, Lance. I miss the castle too. It’ll be a little more stable, and missions will —”

“And I’m coming with you,” Lance blurts.

Keith freezes.

“To space. Permanently. Um, mostly. I still want to come back to Earth and see my mom and everybody but you know. I miss everybody. I’m lonely. And being a farmer is actually super duper boring. No offense to farmers, but I want to shoot shit again. I even miss training, which is crazy, because I hate training —”

“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance says “Yeah?” and then he’s being pulled forward and Keith’s other hand comes to rest on his hip and he is being kissed.

“Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut and words fading from his brain. His hands slide into Keith’s hair without his conscious thought, and he tilts his head and lets Keith devour him as the butterflies storm in his stomach and kisses Keith back like he will get all the breath he needs from Keith’s lungs. His head spins and his knees go weak and Keith smells like pine and sandalwood and his lips are chapped and his hands are calloused and it’s the most wonderfully strange mix of foreign and familiar, bexause Lance knows all these things, but he has never known them in this way.

“Finally!” someone shouts, and soon there are wolf whistles and catcalls and Keith’s smile is pressed against his and Lance can feel the press of his crooked incisors against his bottom lip and he could live off the sensation.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, half-drowned out by the noise of their teasing friends.

“Exactly as I wished it to be,” Keith whispers back, and then kisses him again and again and again.

416 notes · View notes

smellslikechahnspirit · 5 months ago

Text

[Book]

Are we good for each other?

3. Necessary

Bang Chan x F. Reader

Synopsis: Written according to y/n trophy. A story about how you two met. Both having a difficult life, finding peace in each other. Not without lots of drama. Just read it, it's great.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, soft, some smut, drama

Warnings: Under eating, depression, toxic ex (Let me know if I missed something)

Word count: 4097

______________________________

[5:30 AM]

Your alarm clock went off. You were incredibly tired and had almost no energy to the lack of food in your body. Yet this was your chance to get back up, again. So, you got up, showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, then went over to your fridge. There was literally nothing in there, besides some spoiled milk. You figured you’d just get something cheap at a store on your way out.

[6:45 AM]

As you were walking towards the place, which happened to be very close to where you lived, you stopped at a store and got an iced coffee. You really didn’t have much money left now. As you continued walking towards your destination you were starting to get a bit confused. This place seemed…familiar. You looked up and noticed you were at the famous JYP building. You laughed and thought you might have typed the address in wrong. So, you stopped walking for a second and tried to type in the address again. It did in fact gave the same results. So, you decided to call Felix.

Felix and Chris were waiting for you to arrive, but since there were a bit early, they decided to just sit on a small bench near the building, since standing there was just unnecessary. Then suddenly Felix’s phone rang.

Phone call

Felix: Hello?

Y/n: Yeah, hey…uhm I’m at the place you said I should be, but I think there’s a mista-

Felix: No, you’re at the right place haha. Wait where are you, we’ll meet you.

Y/n: Who’s we?

When Felix was about to answer your question you tripped on a loose stone on the ground, which made you drop your phone onto the road. You tried to grab it, but since you didn’t care to look a car was rushing fast towards you. You realised and was frozen in place.

Suddenly you got pulled onto the sidewalk very fast by someone. “Thank you so much I didn’t know what happened…”, as you spoke you turned around and looked at the person who just saved you. Instantly your gratefulness turned upside down a bit, since you saw who it was. “Oh, it’s you…”, you spoke. It didn’t surprise you that he was there, since well, he literally works at JYPE. Even though you were still thankful for him helping you, you kinda didn’t like this person.

Chris smiled. “Well, I see were even now, right?”, he said as Felix ran towards you still stunned at the scene that happened in front of him just now. You just kept staring at Chris. ��Bro, what happened you just ran off, I didn’t even notice you were in danger…”, Felix said while looking at you and Chris. “Well, phew, thank god Chris saw!”, Felix said trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, thank you.”, you said looking down. Then you noticed your phone was broken, and remembered you were calling with Felix. ”Shit, my phone broke, I was calling a friend, I have to be at a place soon, and I don’t even know if I’m in the right place and now my phone is broken and I can’t call him and- “, then suddenly you realised it. You obviously knew who Chris was, and also knew about his team member which name was ironically, Felix. You stared at them for a second. “You’re not gonna tell me you’re- “, you said as the full realisation kicked in and felt really stupid now.

Felix started laughing and also now figured it out, by the way Chris looked at you. “Yep, it’s me, didn’t think your gamer friend would be a kpop idol now did you?”, Felix said. You actually were kind of hyped about it since you always did admire their work. Yet since your interaction with Chris yesterday, you kind of didn’t know how to act now. “No, I actually did in fact not thought that was gonna happen. I uhh….”, you said looking at Chris. “I don’t know about this, maybe I should just go.”, you spoke, ready to walk away.

Chris then went in front of you to try to keep you from going. “Listen, I know you probably hate me since I got you fired, and sorry for being so rude to you yesterday, it’s just…”, Chris stayed quiet for second. “It’s just you need a job. I feel bad for what happened and really need your help with this assignment, so could we please just forget about what happened and let’s help each other out?”, Chris said while looking into your eyes.

Something about him being nice to you, finally noticing you and treating you like an equal was nice. You looked at them both. Since you already knew Felix a bit, and was really in desperate need for a job, you decided to just drop the attitude and be thankful for them giving you an opportunity. “Okay fine, I’ll help you. But only if I do in fact get paid.”, you said, ready to walk with them. “Of course, our company gave us this assignment, so it’ll be fine!”, Felix said.

You started walking with them towards the big building. You’ve never worked at a place that fancy. Also, you were pretty excited to maybe see other Idols here and there, but you made sure not to show your excitement. As you started walking, you were next to Felix and Chris was on the other side of him. You didn’t want to walk next to him, not because you still hated him, but because you just simply didn’t know what you’d say to him. You knew you’d eventually have to start talking to him since your job is literally to help him gain gaming skills.

You actually kinda liked the way he was acting. All sweet and shy and quiet. Felix said that he didn’t normally behave like this, whispering it to you. You laughed silently. Then a few seconds later he whispered to Chris: “Bro she’s stunning, isn’t she?”. Chris just smiled towards the ground, not being able to respond.

As you three kept walking you and Chris didn’t look at each other once. Chris felt good about the fact that you said yes to the job though. He maybe wasn’t talking to you right now, but he was secretly looking at you here and then. You looked skinny, he thought. ‘’Has she eaten anything lately?”, he thought to himself. He got kind of concerned but since you two only just met he didn’t want to be all up in your problems just yet.

[6:50 AM]

“Sooo, here we have the entrance.”, Felix said as he waved hi to the receptionist behind the counter and security. “Noona, she’s allowed in the building from now on, she is helping us with an assignment, could you get her a pass?”, Felix asked the lady. She printed one out very fast, put it on a key chain and gave it to you. You took it from her and smiled and made a slight bow to be polite. “You don’t have to do that you know; people know you’re a foreigner, it’s okay.”, Chris said as he laughed softly. You looked at him, gave him a pokerface and continued to follow Felix. You didn’t want to be rude to Chris but also didn’t want to suddenly be all nice, just because you could. So, with not saying a word back to him you all went into the elevator.

You arrived at the 7th floor. There were all kinds of rooms, almost like offices. You wondered why you were here, and Felix then ran towards JYP who he luckily saw walking by, which he had hoped to find here at this hour. You and Chris were left at the elevator doors for a second, while Felix started to have a convo with their boss.

It was silent. You could feel the awkwardness in the air. Eventually you decided it was time to break the ice. “You weren’t the reason I got fired by the way…”, you said softly, whilst remaining to look at Felix. “Huh?”, Chris responded who now looked at you confused. “Well, I know I said you were the reason I got fired, and maybe in the moment it was true, but I have not done a great job at that stupid café for a long time, I did everything wrong all the time. So, I guess my boss just had enough, and that’s why she fired me. You just happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time, I guess. So, I’m sorry I accused you of being the cause. You were not.”, you said finally looking at him for real for the first time.

You now noticed it again. His beautiful plump lips, his gorgeous brown eyes, big nose, almost like a koala. And then his perfect skin, with teeny tiny freckles on his cheeks. Gosh, he looked amazing. “Well even if so, I was rude to you, I’m sorry I treated you like that. Yesterday was a bit hectic and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. But maybe I was at the right place, right time after all. Now you don’t have to work at that ‘stupid’ café anymore, and get to work with me.”, Chris said. He also surprised himself with his last statement.

“What’s so great about working with you huh?”, you said, still not wanting to like him. But you had to be honest he was growing on you. He looked down for a second. Then he didn’t know how to respond so just stayed quiet. You both just stood there, glad the main problem against each other was out of the way, but now you both had this awkwardness towards each other even more. Luckily at that moment Felix came walking back towards you guys.

“So, what did he say?”, Chris asked the very excited looking boy. “He said it’s great, and you should get started right away. But most importantly he said to have fun, since he does want this all to feel a little bit like a break you know. Oh, and Y/n, he said you should fill in this form, so he could let the administration know where and how to pay you.”, Felix spoke very fast. He pushed the form in your hands, then said: “Okay but I have to go now, my archery coach is going to be at the gym in a few minutes, and he’ll be waiting for me, and the rest of the guys are also gonna start with their coaches and stuff, soooo, have fun?!”, Felix said. He gave you two a hug at the same time unexpectedly, so you both just stood there. But both laughed since he did seem very hyped about it all. It’s just when he left, the whole hallway went quiet. And both of you were all alone.

You filled in the form very quickly with a pen you saw on a table and gave the paper to Chris, who would be sure to give it to the right person. Then it stayed quiet for a minute. Since you had no idea where to go or do now, you just waited until Chris started talking.

“Uhm well okay, how should we approach this, let’s just find a computer I guess?”, Chris suggested. You looked at him funny. “And that random computer will just magically have games on it? No, I think we should find a good pc somewhere where we can really play. Do you know any?”, you said. “Well, don’t you have a pc?”, Chris asked. “Yeah, but we’re not gonna go to my place, sorry.”, you said, only because you would literally die inside if Chris saw the state your place was in right now, let alone your old broken-down pc. “Why not, it’s a great idea, you know your own pc best I think, right?”, He asked. “No.”, you said firmly.

Chris looked at you a bit worried, he didn’t understand, but maybe he was just a bit too close for comfort right now, so he didn’t ask again. At that moment Minho walked out of the elevator. “Hey Hyung, who’s this?”, He asked while giving you a slight bow. You bowed back and tried to smile. “Hey Minho, yeah, uhm, this is Y/n, she’s gonna help me skill up on gaming…we’re just a bit lost right now. We did not think about the fact that we need a good pc here to be able to actually play, so stupid of me.”, Chris spoke, while putting his hands through his hair.

You visually saw his discomfort and felt kind of bad. Maybe you were being too hard on him. He apologised about before and you felt like you had been annoying enough. “No, it’s not your fault, uhm, how bout I call Felix? Maybe we can use his pc, right? Does he live close by? I’d assume that.”, you asked. Chris liked that you tried to come up with a solution and help him in the tough situation.

Minho was looking at Chris up and down for a second. “Yeah, go ask him. You guys seem so tense by the way. Maybe you two should just go for a run first or something, you know, to loosen up a bit. I’ve never seen you so stiff Hyung. Well, bye!”, Minho spoke as he smiled and walked away, since he had to be at his appointment soon as well.

Winking at Chris as he walked through the door. Chris knew that Minho knew, he only acted like that with girls he liked. He never knew how to be his bubbly social extravert self, whenever there was a girl, he really was interested in, which wasn’t really beneficial for him and rarely happened.

“I think it’s a great idea, let’s call Felix, hopefully he isn’t training yet.”, Chris said as u started to dial the number on your half broken phone. Your phone was super pretty, rose gold layered with crystals on the case. It looked expensive. “Wow, fancy.”, Chris said, pointing at your phone. “Thanks, I got it from my boyfriend.”, You said. Chris his eyes widened. “Uh I mean ex-boyfriend sorry.”, you said while looking away. “I’m sorry to hear that…how long have you two been broken up?”, he asked trying to be polite. “A few months… but let’s not talk abou- “, you got cut off by Felix who had answered his phone.

You asked him if they could use his pc. He was a bit hesitant at first since his pc is like his child that he put together from scratch by himself, or so he explained. But eventually he told you that it would be okay. Since he knew Chris would be there the whole time anyways and you were very familiar with PCs' yourself of course. So, he gave you the greenlight, and had to hurry back to his archery. He then hung up.

“We’re good to go!”, you said as you and Chris started walking. You just followed him since he was the only one who knew the way. “So where does he live? I mean you realise you’re telling me a kpop idols home address right now huh?”, you said mockingly. “Hahaha well, we still live in dorms you see. Felix lives together with Seungmin, Jeongin and Minho. But we all have each other keys, so let’s head over there.”, he said.

“And you…?”, you asked after a few seconds. “I live a few apartments further, with Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin.”, he replied. You knew Stray Kids as a group of course, since they’re pretty well known. Yet even though you’ve been in Korea for a while now, you didn’t really stan any groups in particular. You mostly just liked random songs that you heard on the radio.

“So how come you live here, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean you don’t even speak any Korean haha.”, Chris asked. You stayed quiet for a second. It was really hard for you to talk about all of this, since you hated the whole situation so much. But you also kind of like the fact that he sounded truly interested. So, you decided to tell him.

“Or I mean, if you don’t wanna say, that’s okay too you know, I do not want you to feel like you have to or anything…”, he said trying to reassure you it was all completely up to you. “Or does it have anything to do with that ex-boyfriend?”, he asked.

You finally spoke. “No, I mean, yeah, the thing is this story is a lot, I don’t know if you’re up for a story like that right now, while you are supposed to be having fun.”, you said while looking at him and forming a small smile. “Hey, to be honest talking to you is quite fun, no?”, he said while smiling too. You felt a weird energy in the air but couldn’t really put your finger on it. You were trying to be professional, especially because he is an idol, and you are kind of his teacher right now. That sounds weird but it’s true.

You two now walked outside of the building and he showed you where his car was parked. You both got in and buckled your seat belts. You hesitated again but then spoke. “You see, I actually was in a great place in life a few months back. I got into college, my family loved me, I had amazing friends, and I even had a job on the side at the animal rescue centre. I mean a few weeks before I left, I did get fired, because they didn’t need me anymore. Basically, they just had to scrap me from the team, cuz they had ‘too many people’. Fucking bullshit, but fine.”.

Chris laughed. You were starting to feel loosened up a bit already. You secretly did like to get all of this off your chest, since you haven’t really had anyone to talk to these last few months, beside people at the café. “So that’s kind of when it all started. I met this guy.”, you said going all out on the story now, since you two were alone in the car anyways.

Chris started driving. “Yeah, that’s how it always goes huh, there’s always a guy…haha”, he said trying to lighten the mood. “Yes, uhg I hate men. No offence…”, you said. “None taken.” He replied.

“So turned out he was really cute and seemed to have his life together and I was just very mesmerised by who he was, you know?

He worked as an ambassador at this big company and had his own place, it all seemed too good to be true, but I still went out with him since I was like, yolo.

So, we went out for like 8 months or so, I started to actually fall in love, I mean I think, at this point I don’t even know what love is. But I mean I didn’t care about anything he owned or did, as long as I was with him, I was happy.

Then suddenly he got transferred to South Korea. I was devastated and cried for like a week straight. Until one day he came by my dorm room, and he straight up asked me if I should just come with him.

He was gonna get great promotions and it all looked very bright for him. But me, who likes to be independent, was kind of hesitant about it. I had college, a job, friends, family, everything. Stability. But somehow, he convinced me, and assured me I’d find school or a cool career here too.

I did, I left everything. My school, my friends, who now hate me for suddenly dropping them all, my family was furious, since they encouraged me with everything I’ve been trying to achieve my entire life, and suddenly I choose to take this wacky path.

So, I get why everyone was so upset with me. They haven’t spoken to me since, none of them. But I was with the man I loved. So, to me it seemed like a sacrifice I had to make.

We got this super cute place in the middle of Seoul. Since he had to work straight away, I got to decorate the whole house. It was amazing, I did everything by myself. Then I just started realising how lonely the days began to feel.

He was at work the entire day and I’d only see him late at night when he came home, and he’d leave first thing the next morning. You see I’m not really the type of person who just sits around waiting for her boyfriend all day, but at that time I hadn’t found a job yet.

I was just home and stayed home, cleaned, watched some tv shows, painted here and there, I even tried writing a book, which was a disaster by the way so don’t ask.

But long story short. When I told him about my feelings and how scared I was about finding a job in a city where I do not even speak the language, he just gave me the silent treatment a lot and told me it was my decision to come here with him. While I was very hesitant in the first place.

I mean if I’d knew it would’ve been like that I would’ve just stayed home. So eventually I found out his work was more important than my happiness apparently and wouldn’t even help me get back up. Like help me find school, or what not. We just kept having fights. I just felt horrible and was scared a lot.”.

“Did he hurt you?”, Chris asked. “Not physically no, but emotionally I was so drained. So, after a lot of rough fights, I decided that was it, and I just had to leave. This wasn’t love and I didn’t want to waste my time on this guy anymore.

But I couldn’t just get my things and go back to my old home. I dropped out of school, my parents didn’t talk to me and I sure as hell didn’t have enough money to get a place of my own, I was literally so broke.

Luckily, I had saved up some money from my job back home and found a very small cheap apartment nearby. I literally just got up and walked every street to find a place that would hire me for literally anything, that how I ended up at the café. It paid the bills. But sure, as hell not enough to get like new stuff for myself.

The only things I have are things I got from him, or stuff I had brought from my old room back home. And well then, I got fired, so I had no idea how I’d make it through the month.”, you practically preached. “That’s quite the story…you’re incredibly strong Y/n. Good of you to let that douche bag go. He doesn’t deserve someone like you anyways.”, Chris said. You were still so into your story, that you didn’t even really realise what Chris said just now.

“So, I was kind of relieved Felix asked me to help you. I mean gaming for a job how fun!”, you said trying to be excited, since you wanted to be. Yet you just felt a bit dizzy. Maybe you have been talking for too long.

“Haha yeah, I mean it’s just for a while, I have no idea when I have to get back to my actual job, but even when that day comes, I’ll help you find something else, mark my words!”, Chris said. “I’ll figure something out.” You said while smiling.

By now you finally noticed Chris had parked the car. “Wait, were here already?”, you asked. “We have been parked here for a while now haha, guess you had a lot to say huh. I’m glad though, I like hearing about it. You’re gonna be alright. You have us now, right? We’re here to talk whenever you need.” Chris said reassuringly. “Why are we doing this again exactly?”, you asked him as both of you got out of the car.

He explained how this all came to be, and you started laughing. “You work so much, your boss actually made u quit for a while. Damn…ambitious I see.” He laughed as well.

Part 4

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

#stray kids #skz #bangchan #skz fake texts #incorrect quotes #skz x reader #scenario #bangchan x reader #faketexts #incorrect kpop quotes

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yourlocalcrackedsimp · 2 months ago

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Idk if I wanna do a platonic one or not but I'll leave it up to you! Also I haven't played the games so sorry if somethings are off, I have watched summaries of it though! Also this doesn't go over the game, it's just where I want this to start because timelines and such

Also this is my first time doing headcannons along with writing for devil may cry so sorry if there's something weird here

And yes, this is Danny phantom inspired. Do not judge

proof reading rn

HeadCannons!:

-You first found out about devils, unsurprisingly, through you usual exorcists.

-What you thought would be a normal job for you (scare off some ghosts, accidentally destroy one or two things)

-Somehow that turned into you meeting Dante (since he was hired by someone else in the area as they assumed the 'ghost' you were dealing with was a demon) and dealing with a (surprisingly) strong demon.

-You Initially thought it was a higher-ranked ghost, but no, he explained to you it was an actual demon and that you should probably flee since he assumed you were a con artist

-Oh how wrong he was

-After bickering back and forth for a few minutes in front of the demon about whether or not you were an actual exorcist or not, you were able to prove yourself to be an actual exorcist

-How? Simple.

-The demon attacked and while Dante evaded and subsequently dragged you with him too as you prevent you from being hurt, you aimed a fingergun at the demon and next thing you know, their head was blown off and their body sealed, effectively dealing with them quickly and in one move with a simple but powerful 'energy' bullet

-the wouldn't call that an exorcism though

-safe to say, he bugged and annoyed you with so he asked many questions

-after answering some of his questions, you left to go properly deal with the demon. But since he was was a devil hunter and this was his current commission, he tagged along just to see how you work

-in actuality, you were just going to an empty field to unseal the demon and then kill it because this is something you're certainly not going to send back to the otherside

-once you freed it, you had an idea

-with that in mind, you turned to Dante and gestured for him to deal with it

-and he does in his usual way albeit, with a small compliant about your unorthodox way of dealing with the demon

-i mean why walk somewhere else when you can deal with it right there

-And that was how you two first met

-over time, and with more people mistaking ghosts and demons as the same thing, you two ran into each other quite often until you two were together on every mission because somehow demons were able to consume the souls of the dead to gain more power

-somehow

-this all eventually led to you two just joining businesses since at this point, you guys were friends (sort of) and colleagues at this point

-with that however, you largely stayed at the office while he went out to complete the missions

-why did you stay behind? To clean the place along with organise the logs and commissions

-basically, you kept the place running.

-along with that, you also took more simpler ones so that there was at least another form of income coming in

-whenever he went out to deal with demons and sometimes, subsequently ghosts, you just gave him a piece of paper with weird runes on it to stick on the ghost so he could drag it back to you to deal with

-After the first few times this happened, leading to the office being unfortunately,somewhat destroyed, you eventually let him in on another ability you had.

-you could open portals anywhere you wanted so long as you knew the area

-with this ability, you now toss the ghost somewhere and deal with it later or now depending on the case

-on the rare occasion you do go with him on missions, you both learn more each others abilities

-like how one time, he ended up getting stabbed straight through his chest and instead of dying, he fucking walked it off like it was a normal Tuesday

-safe to say, you gave him a very long lecture afterwords about being extra careful, even if he has op regeneration abilities

-and vice versa, he learnt that you were a great defense because after him being pierced through his chest, you've opted to always have a shield around him when you're there so his safer along with being the medic between you two

-even if he could heal and walk it off, he still thought it was a sweet thing

-back in the office, you were definitely becoming a world class chef with how often you had to cook healthy meals for him

-one time there was pizza in the fridge and you had just finished making food, and instead of going for your home cooked meal, he went for the pizza.

-safe to say that his hands were immediately with a spatula, like a child being scolded, and had a decent meal shoved into his hands instead

-and whenever he did have pizza, you constantly reminded him to put the box in a bin. If not, his on chore duty for a month and his banned from pizza in that time

-plus, he had to train with you. Which is arguably worse than hell itself

-miserable times

That's all, send in requests if you want something!

Word count:951

Edited

#devil may cry x reader #dmc3 #half-ghost!reader #firstheadcannons #dmc3headcannons #headcannons #ishouldbestudying #devil may cry #dmc dante

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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WIBTA to refuse tutoring my nephew even though I'm not sure what he did wrong?

So I (24, F) have been tutoring my nephew/the son of my mum's close friend (10, M) for a couple of weeks now. His mum pays me for the hours I spend teaching him and honestly despite the kid being obviously ADHD I don't really mind him getting constantly distracted because it's clear he still understands what I'm explaining to him, so we had a pretty good relationship up until this point as I was way more understanding of him than any other tutors or even his own mother, although I don't really know him THAT well.

During our tutoring sessions my cat, Pudding (14, F) would usually stay in the same room with us. She likes to stay in the same room as other people but usually doesn't let strangers pet her and will go away if bothered too much. Well, Nephew being distractable as he is would often go up to her to pet her as he would answer a question of mine or just as a thing between answering questions. Strangely enough Pudding did let him do that and didn't seem to be THAT bothered by it, so I too ignored it and just let him do it.

Now, here's the issue: A few days ago after we finished our tutoring session for that day I left the room to wash my hands in the kitchen since we were eating snacks during the session. My house's kitchen is literally DIRECTLY next to the room where we have our tutoring sessions so it couldn't have taken longer than 10-15 seconds from me leaving before I heard a cry from Pudding. "Oh, she must've finally gotten annoyed with Nephew's behaviour, I'll tell him to stop bothering her." I thought to myself as I finished washing my hands, yet before I was even able to make it back to the room I heard a second, much louder meow, the kind of meow a cat only makes if they ACTUALLY get hurt. So now, properly concerned, I round the corner into the room and see Nephew sitting right next to where Pudding is still laying, now with her ears flat and looking at him. He must've seen the confusion on my face because the first thing he said was "We were just playing." to which I blurted out that clearly she was not in the mood to play and walked over to check on her. While doing that, I noticed that there was a blanket slightly covering Pudding's hind legs, so I assumed maybe Nephew accidentally put his weight there without realizing she had her paws there. I VERY GENTLY pulled back the blanket and VERY GENTLY touched her legs to see if they were hurt, and then she BIT me and finally ran away. Of course I don't blame her, and in fact that only strengthened my concern because Pudding is a VERY polite cat, if she's bothered by anything she will just leave and if she bites for play it's always very gentle and doesn't leave a mark, this was not that. Afterwards I couldn't get any useful information out of Nephew as to what exactly he did, he just kept saying that he was petting her and she got annoyed which was clearly not true, so I dropped the subject and just sent him home.

Now it's been a few days since that happening and I've checked on Pudding's legs a few times since then. She doesn't respond to me touching them at all and she doesn't limp or anything so either she didn't get injured, or the legs were never the issue in the first place and me touching her was simply the last straw in that already stressful situation for her. Despite that however, I find myself not wanting to have Nephew over for tutoring anymore as I'm afraid that something like this might happen again when I'm literally gone from the room for less than a minute. It really annoys me that I have absolutely no clue what happened while I was gone, I don't even have a way to know if Nephew did whatever he did intentionally or by accident since him saying they were just "playing" could very well be just his honest perception of the situation, or him lying and being vague on purpose because he knows he did something wrong. The reason why I feel like Nephew might be lying about doing bad things on purpose is because Nephew's family has two cats, so I really feel like he should know better already and be more careful. Another point is the fact that this literally happened the INSTANT I was gone from the room, almost as if he was waiting for me to be gone to do something (as far as I recall I haven't ever left him alone with Pudding before this point), though admittedly that could just be unlucky coincidence. Plus, I find it REALLY hard to believe he'd be able to make Pudding cry like that on accident, I've genuinely NEVER heard her make a sound like that, ever, not even at the vet's. On the other hand however I know that he was failing his math class badly before I started tutoring him and I'm almost certain he'd start to fail again if I stopped helping him. Not only that, I'd have to come up with a lie about being too busy to do tutoring or something else since obviously I can't tell his mother "Hey your son might've done something bad but I'm not really sure and don't really have any proof and can't even tell if it was really intentional or not", since I realize how ridiculous that sounds despite still genuinely feeling incredibly uncomfortable about the whole situation.

So with all of that out of the way, would I be the asshole for denying him my tutoring services just because I feel uncomfortable about the idea of him possibly hurting my cat on purpose, even when I don't really have any proof that he did it on purpose or would do it again?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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shantechni · 1 year ago

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I noticed this a looooong time ago, but I didn't mention it and sort of kept pushing it aside as an unimportant detail. After coming across this for, like, the fifth time though, something finally strikes me as supremely odd, and it's these two simple lines Leo says in the first episode of S2.

Between the S1 finale and the S2 premiere, Splinter told his sons that he defeated the Shredder when they faced off in the hideout. Not only that, he told them they'd never see the man again because he lost his honor, but both of these statements are immediately proven to be contradictory to what actually took place, as well as to what Splinter believes about the Shredder's way of thinking.

Anyone who has watched the S1 finale, specifically the second part, knows that the fight was brought to a screeching halt when Karai ran in to stop Splinter from finishing off the Shredder. And, after seeing just how deeply influenced Karai has been to hate him, Splinter left in a hurry to avoid fighting who he now knows is his thought-to-be-dead daughter.

Now, it makes sense that Splinter didn't tell the boys Karai interrupted the fight considering she was a touchy subject, one he didn't approach all of his sons with until midway through S2 in The Manhattan Project. He was still coming to terms with the revelation himself, and his avoidance of everyone's questions tells us that he genuinely didn't want to explain why Karai believed he killed her mom. In the process, he'd have to get into the reason Shredder led Karai to believe that lie and yadda yadda.

So, not telling them Karai was there makes sense. But why tell them the Shredder was defeated?

Something like that would be believable if he didn't imply any finality by telling them the Shredder was taken down, because he goes on to wonder outloud if their enemies were truly defeated and even reaffirms that, "The Shredder is a crafty and patient foe who bides his time." But Leo clearly says that Splinter told them they'd never see him again after he apparently lost whatever honor he had left. And we can't point fingers at any potential dialogue or writing error because they make sure the audience hears that Splinter did indeed facilitate this calm behavior of theirs.

One can wonder if he didn't truly intend to flat out lie, but rather to placate his sons by withholding a harsh truth and giving everyone the time they need to revel in their victory. However, that's another odd decision for Splinter to make since he's usually the one to remind his sons that none of their enemies will stay gone for long, the first and most notable instance of this being when they first encountered Bradford and Xever.

Anyways, after Leo says what he says, Splinter takes offense to Raph casually adding that they'll take care of the Shredder if he does come back, and, upon realizing that his prior statement has heavily blanketed them with a false sense of security, he harshly tells his sons the month long celebrating is over.

Honestly, even though I said sugar coating is very out of character for someone like Splinter, it's the only sensible answer for him lying to the guys. And probably himself for a minute there, too.

He knows the Shredder isn't honorable. He's traitorous, underhanded, and full of spite for those he feels wronged him. Oroku Saki is a vengeful man who has been undeniably wronged in his past, but refuses to learn from it and will shift the blame onto those undeserving. He's tenacious in the way he literally left Japan with a singular image of a Hamato clan shuriken as proof that he has another chance to kill someone he used to call his brother.

Splinter knows all of this, but he still went ahead and made the morally dubious decision to construct a perfect, short-lived world where he could tell his sons they wouldn't have to worry about the Shredder again.

And where he doesn't have to face the gravity of the changes yet to come.

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gamergirl-niffler · 1 year ago

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Quick End || Enji Todoroki x Reader

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge! I am not great at those and as for me Enji just suits the prompt!

Prompt: Ghosting

(All Enji's fans... I am sorry!)

You knew it was wrong. It was OH SO WRONG to get involved with current Number One Hero Endeavor, but at the same time it felt right.

Enji was a specific lover. He was spoiling you rotten yet at the same time he wasn't much into the PDA and always kept it super safe in bed.

It was a bit of a bother for you since you always wanted to truly feel like a couple, but you decided it would be better to respect his boundaries.

You messaged him whenever you two weren't together, and he answered in his usual way which could feel kinda indifferent, but you knew it wasn't like this.

One morning you sent him a message as per usual but nothing came back.

“Well, I guess he is busy,” you muttered to yourself and continued with your morning.

Minutes changed into hours and there was nothing, no message from him. At this point it was getting weird, so you sent him a few more messages to maybe get his attention. “He is number one… Bet he is REALLY busy.”

You kept yourself under that delusion for another two days. Of course, it ran through your mind that he just ghosted you… but noooo. He wasn't some teen, too scared to break up with someone. He was a grown ass man for crying out loud.

After a week of silence from the Flame Hero, you decided it's enough. He just ghosted you, and you weren't going to let it slide like that!

You made your way to his agency and his office, basically storming inside.

“Can I help you somehow?” Enji asked, not even looking away from the documents that he was reading at the moment.

Looking at him, you placed hands on your hips. “Actually yes. I would like to know what happened?”

“Happened with what?” He threw you another question, still mostly ignoring you.

You blinked and then frowned. “You know! I sent you so many messages! And I heard nothing in return. You lost… or burned your phone or something?!”

He sighed deeply and put away his documents. “I thought that my silence will be enough for you to understand what I mean.”

“S-So it's all over? All of the sudden? Just like that?!” You tilted your head.

“I have too much on my head now. There is no time for fooling around, so there is no need to continue this whole thing,” Enji explained simply.

You just stood there, listening to him. So he really ghosted you. If you wouldn't come here, HE WOULDN'T TELL YOU A THING.

“So? Can I help you with something? I don't have time for pointless talks.” He just looked at you.

You looked back at him and shook your head. “I… I guess I will go now. Bye forever, I guess.”

Enji just gave you a nod.

Just like that you left, and he didn't even say a ‘goodbye’ to you. Nothing! It was like nothing ever happened between you two. It hurt, but there was no point in fighting him about that

Apparently you didn't matter much to begin with.

#weekly challenge #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #enji todoroki x reader #todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x reader

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fedoraspooky · 4 months ago

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Figure these asks are close enough that I could answer 'em both in one go!

Ending under the Read More:

After the fight, Jabber had fought off multiple threats but had been left severely weakened afterwards, to the point where he was basically dying and at the mercy of the other players, who now had the Typewriter... and now knew what he was. What he'd done.

Expecting the worst, he just weakly laughed from where he was flopped on the ground, and was like "Well, guess this is it. My one regret... is that I won't be around to accept the Oscar for this death scene..." as he started crumbling away into dried up chips of paint and ink. Everything started blurring, then going dark...

...And then he breathed in. Opened his eyes. Sat bolt upright from where he'd been crumbling on the ground just moments ago and patted himself down in disbelief. He was alright!

They'd spared him.

Because sure, they knew he was a monster now- but they also knew why. And he HAD just saved them from Kay's horror doppelganger getting the typewriter and erasing her original counterpart, so there's that. (The two actually worked things out between them and consider themselves sisters now!)

But most importantly... Over the time Jabber had been working for him, Jabber had started to feel like a son to Muddy. To the point where Muddy had even been thinking of leaving the diner to him when he retires. Jabber had kept a lot of secrets from him, but he still was a good employee, and a good kid, zany antics aside. And finding out that the three had been vaulted for so long made Muddy's ink boil.

So ultimately, Jabber (to his utter bafflement!) got a much better ending to this story than he could have ever possibly dreamed of, and even I as his player was expecting!

Muddy used the typewriter to revive Snapper and Pip (granted, in a process that was deeply uncomfortable for Jabber, given that the two had kinda been 'fused' into his body when he absorbed what was left of them in an attempt to keep them from dying. Splitting them up again was NOT pleasant- but any discomfort was swiftly forgotten when he came to his senses, saw them, and scooped his two very confused sibs up into a big hug)!

While Muddy hadn't expected to ever become a dad to one kid, let alone three, he didn't want them to end up separated again after they'd FINALLY been reunited, so he stepped up and adopted all three of them, with the help of his former ex-boyfriend (now reconciled) and show partner Munchie the sheep dog. The Warnings took WB to court for wrongful imprisonment and won freedom from their contracts with them and a TON of money.

They even got their reboot in a way, since Muddy and Munchie were going to have a reboot and part of Muddy's conditions for starring in it were that the Warnings could play parts in the new show as side characters. Between finally being on a show again and no longer being locked away from the world, they were now saved from fading and didn't have to hunt other toons to live anymore!

Of course they weren't without trauma from what they'd dealt with- one of the new contract stipulations is that no scenes they're in involves any kind of large net, for example.

Sometimes it still doesn't feel real to Jabber. He'd be up late at night in bed, staring up at the ceiling wondering how the heck he lucked out this much, after everything he'd done out out of desperation... Sometimes he'll wake up in a panic if it's still dark and he doesn't immediately see or hear his sibs, it's hard to shake the memory of being locked up in a big dark metal container and straining to hear if they're still breathing... But then he looks over and sees them sleeping comfortably, and it eases his mind a little.

To answer the other question: he DID get to use the Typewriter for a few things! Right after he and his sibs had been revived, he ran over and used it to revive Scrabbles first and foremost. Scrabbles appeared and was immediately upset because he got torn away from mouse heaven (They had so much cheese there!) and was stuck in this pitiful existence again. Oblivious to Scrabbles's plight, Jabber was just like "you're welcome! uwu"

He also used it for petty revenge of course- he made it so the WB now OFFICIALLY stood for "Weird Butt" at their old studio, and we got a brief cutaway of that universe's David Zaslav bursting out screaming from the men's room in the executive suite with his pants around his ankles, pursued by the great white shark that had burst from the toilet to bite him in the butt. It then cut back to Jabber laughing, and he segued into a sort of 90s drug PSA moment where he was like "Haha! Ahh, we have fun here at Toon Fiasco... But remember kids! If anyone tries to pressure YOU into using a powerful reality-altering and potentially world-ending artifact, just say NO! ...Uhhhhhhnless you use it to do something really funny!"

Afterwards, the group ultimately decided that it was probably better if something this powerful remained hidden, so they... basically just kinda tossed it away in the junkyard somewhere.

And then, after all the characters' epilogues played out, in a fun little post-credits scene, we saw the Typewriter sitting in a pile of junk... And then, a car pulls up... and all of us, the players, got out and were like "oh THAT'S where we left that thing, we've been lookin' all over for it! Geez, we better pick this up before someone finds it!" And we hauled it into the car and took off driving away into the sunset.

So yes over-all very fun game, I enjoyed it immensely lmao

I love playing antagonists or semi-antagonists who end up aggressively adopted and are all "??????" about it. XD

#toon fiasco #rp shenanigans #game-end spoilers #jabber #snapper #pip #the warnings #friend ocs #muddy #mysticdoodles #kay t.k.#arsonsara

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skyward-floored · 1 year ago

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Swapped (part 2)

Incredibles au power swap pt. 2! Checking in on some of the other boys, who are... struggling lol.

Part 1 | Next

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

Hyrule woke up feeling cold.

A shiver went through him as he slowly came back to awareness, the cold feeling sinking into his very bones, and he wondered why whatever he was lying on was so hard and uncomfortable.

Why did his chest hurt? Why was he so cold? He hadn’t woken up like this since...

Since...

Panic smacked into him, and Hyrule‘s eyes flew open, his heart thudding as he looked around. He took in the unfamiliar walls around him, piles of rubble and dirt, and right as his heart began to pound with fear, he saw Time waking up, a hand held to his chest.

Hyrule sighed in relief, and carefully sat up himself, immediately feeling better. If dad was here, he wasn’t back on the streets, or... worse.

But... that didn’t really answer the question of where he actually was.

Before Hyrule could try and figure it out though, someone let out a panicked gasp. Hyrule jumped and turned around, and saw Wild sitting on the ground a few feet away, looking on the verge of hysterical.

“I’m— I’m slow,” Wild choked out, and Hyrule blinked in confusion as he watched Twilight stumble to his feet beside him, a hand held to his head.

“Wild, it’s all right,” Twilight said, taking a step, then yelped as he somehow went running across the room and straight into a wall. “Ow!”

“You took my speed!” Wild wailed, and Hyrule stared, watching as Twilight tried to get to his feet, but fell over again when his legs went too fast for him. He did a quick glance around the hallway, not seeing anyone else apart from his two brothers and dad. If he had to guess, the rest of his family was probably blocked off by the wall that had collapsed.

...Which had collapsed because of a weird explosion that had also knocked them all out. Right. Now he remembered.

Time properly sat up and looked at Wild and Twilight, his face creased with concern... and a little pain, Hyrule thought. Wild stopped yelling when he saw their dad move, but he still looked panicked, and it seemed like Twilight was afraid to move, his expression confused and fearful.

“Boys what is going on?” Time asked, and Twilight wrapped his arms around himself.

“I don’t know, I woke up and couldn’t hear barely anything and then Wild started yelling and somehow I have his speed and I can’t turn into a wolf,” he said rapidly, clutching at his hair.

“And now I don’t have anything!” Wild added, looking on the verge of tears.

Hyrule blinked, and an even colder feeling ran through him as he digested that. It looked like the explosion had done more than just collapse the wall and knock them out... it had also messed up Wild and Twilight’s powers.

...were they the only ones?

Hyrule quickly drew on his own powers, just to reassure himself nothing was wrong with them. He tried healing first, summoning a blue glow to his hands, but then the icy feeling that had been with him even since he’d woken up suddenly intensified, and Hyrule‘s stomach lurched.

The blue glow was the wrong color.

He tried again, more frantically, but the blue continued to be the wrong color, cold instead of the usual warm, and ice began to spread out from where Hyrule sat, only increasing his panic. Trying to shield brought up no results either, and Hyrule drew desperately on the strange cold power he could feel inside of him, trying to make it heal, to make it shield, do anything it was supposed to be doing.

All he could produce was ice.

Hyrule gasped, trying to stay calm, but not succeeding in the slightest at keeping back the wave of panic that was crashing over him.

What was happening? Anything he tried just kept turning into ice, shielding didn’t work, healing didn’t work, his...

His powers were gone.

The one thing he’d been able to rely on his entire life.

Hyrule felt his breath pick up, his heart pounding as more ice spread out from him. He wouldn’t be able to shield people anymore, protect himself and others from danger, he couldn’t heal, he wouldn’t be able to do anything if he or anyone else got hurt, all he could make was ice and ice and ice—

“Hyrule,” a voice said, and Hyrule looked up and saw his father had joined his side, a worried look on his face.

“Dad— I can’t— I can’t get my shield up,” Hyrule managed to choke out, clutching at his hair. “And my healing, it’s not working, it’s just ice—”

“Hyrule calm down,” Time reassured, holding out a hand.

“Why— why is it doing this, I— wait, don’t touch me! I’ll freeze you!” Hyrule choked as his father kneeled beside him, and Time ignored his words, taking his hands in his own.

They felt... warm.

“Hyrule, I’ve dealt with Warriors’ powers more times than I can count, you won’t freeze me. Calm down,” Time continued, and Hyrule’s brain stuck for a second on the phrasing. Warriors’ powers? “Focus on reining them in. It should be like your own powers, just a little different. Relax.”

Hyrule sucked in a deep breath, thinking slowly through Time’s words and trying to do what he said. He carefully pulled on the strange powers he had, trying to make the cold ease back and stop escaping from him like a leaky faucet, and the ice began to slow in its spread.

Encouraged by the results, he focused a littler harder, and the ice stalled as he took in more deep breaths, finally tamping his panic down to something more manageable. The ice had stopped, and he felt a little less cold as his hands stopped glowing.

The lack of warmth in his middle from both his powers was still terrifying, but Hyrule thought he could... work with it now.

...Maybe.

Hyrule let out one last shaky exhale, and Time squeezed his shoulder, Hyrule leaning into it and feeling much calmer.

“...thanks Dad,” he sighed, and Time nodded.

He stayed next to him for another few moments, letting him continue to calm down, but then Twilight yelped again, and Time drew back with a sigh. He pulled his hand off of Hyrule’s shoulder, but as he drew back, Hyrule let out a startled squeak.

Everything below his father’s elbow was missing.

Time jumped, a truly shocked look on his face, but before he could do anything, his fingers flickered back into view like they’d never been gone at all.

Hyrule and Time both stared at them, and Hyrule watched as Time’s arm abruptly faded out of view again, appearing and disappearing at random.

“You... have Legend’s invisibility?” he said hesitantly, beginning to get an idea of what might be going on, and his father slowly nodded, staring intensely at his hand. Whatever he was trying to do didn’t seem to work though, and he sighed, standing up and helping Hyrule stand as well.

“It looks like it. And you have Warriors’ ice, and Twilight has Wild’s speed,” Time said, and winced as Twilight tripped and landed on his face. “Twilight?”

“Fine,” his son called back weakly, and Time led Hyrule over to where Wild was still sitting in a mild panic.

He patted the both of them on the shoulder, looking into their eyes for a moment, then walked over to Twilight. Wild looked nearly as shaken as Hyrule felt, if not more, but he merely leaned against Hyrule’s arm, Hyrule leaning on him in return.

Looking at how unsettled Wild appeared, Hyrule wasn’t sure if he’d prefer having the ice he currently had, or the nothing Wild seemed to posses.

“Come on Twilight, you can stand,” Time said as he walked away, and Hyrule and Wild both watched him. Twilight was sitting up, but he still looked afraid to move, his face anxious. “You can do it.”

“I’ll just trip again! Why am I so fast all of a sudden? I don’t want Wild’s speed, I can barely hear anything like this or smell anything and I can’t turn into a wolf!” he said rapidly, and Time slowly helped him up.

“I believe our enemy decided to test something on us,” Time said, and Hyrule thought back to what the voice on the intercom had said. That would explain the test subject thing. “And if I'm right... somehow he switched around our powers.”

“But that’s not possible,” Wild spoke up as Time carefully guided Twilight over to them, “you can’t just... switch powers! That’d be like me and Hyrule randomly switching heads!”

“Well somehow he’s done it,” Twilight grimaced.

“And we’ll probably have to stop him to get our proper powers back,” Time sighed, watching as his fingers disappeared from view again.

Hyrule looked around at his family, more then half of them missing from the room, Twilight pale with anxiety, Wild still unhappy about being slow, random bits of their father occasionally disappearing from view.

This... just got a lot more complicated.

Wild looked at Time’s arms, watching as they randomly faded in and out of view, and a grin suddenly stretched across his face, wide and mischievous.

“Dad, did you get both of Legend’s powers?” he asked, and Hyrule and Twilight both turned to look at him as well, Hyrule unable to stop his smile as he realized what he meant.

“I have no idea. And even if I did, I’m not testing it right now,” he said dryly, and Wild and Hyrule both made disappointed noises. “Sorry boys. We need to focus on fixing this mess.”

“Have you tried to contact anyone yet?” Twilight asked, and Time shook his head, pulling out his communication device.

“That’s what I was on to next. I think it’s safe to say everyone’s powers got messed up, so it’s unlikely Artemis is going to come find us.”

“Unless whoever got her powers does,” Wild pointed out, and Twilight shook his head.

“I doubt it. We can barely control the ones we got. I mean, if I’d gotten intangibility, I don’t think I would want to test it by trying to walk through a collapsed wall.”

Hyrule winced. That was a good point. It probably wouldn’t end well if whoever got Artemis’s powers couldn’t use them very well, and accidentally came back in the middle of the wall.

Time busied himself with trying to get his radio working, and Twilight did his best to help him, his leg jittering so rapidly it blurred a bit. Hyrule looked back at Wild, his brother looking miserable, then ignored the urge to shiver as he drew his knees up to his chest.

Why did Warriors’ powers have to be so cold? He thought his uncle had said that the cold didn’t even bother him, why was Hyrule so freezing?

Why couldn't they just be straight-forward like mine?

Hyrule sighed and glanced back at Wild again, frowning when he saw his expression had dimmed even further while he watched Twilight’s leg jitter rapidly in place.

“Are you alright Wild?” Hyrule asked, and Wild shrugged, making the face he made when he was trying to appear unbothered.

“Yeah. I’m fine. You’re... kinda pale though,” he said, looking over Hyrule. "You okay?"

Hyrule shrugged, trying not to look as shaken as he still felt. He knew Wild probably just wanted to help, but he was pretty sure if he thought about his switched-up-also-missing powers too long he’d cry.

Wild somehow read his expression though, and after a moments hesitation, put his arm around Hyrule’s shoulder, giving him a little squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” Wild said. “We’ll figure it out, Roolie.”

And for some reason Hyrule believed him, the words like a warm blanket on his still-shaky nerves. He near-immediately relaxed, and Wild looked at him in surprise as he leaned on him more, before realization flirted across his face.

“Oh. I got Mom’s,” he said, and Hyrule looked at him weirdly.

“Huh?”

“I got Mom’s powers. You know, she has her whole horse-soothing voice she uses, it’s really good at calming down horses and other animals. I... guess it also works on people?” Wild said hesitantly. “At least I think that’s what that was.”

Hyrule blinked, not sure how he felt about that. But for some reason the thought didn’t seem too worrying, so he shrugged, and set his head on Wild’s shoulder. He was nice and warm, and helped chase away some of the chill.

“Guess so. We’ll have to find a horse so you can test it,” Hyrule murmured, and Wild let out a quiet laugh.

A sigh caught their attentions, and the two looked over at Time and Twilight, both of their face grim.

“No luck,” Time said as he put his radio away with a frown. “It's being blocked. Looks like we’re on our own for now.”

“We should try and find the others then, right?” Twilight asked. “Because not to underestimate us right now, but uh... I don’t know if we can take on this scientist guy in the state we’re in.”

“I could,” Wild said with a bite to his voice. “I’m going to punch that jerk right in the mouth for taking my speed.”

“We were all headed for the top floor when we were ambushed, we’ll continue heading that way,” Time decided, rolling his shoulder. “The others will doubtlessly be working their way that direction as well, so we’ll try to meet up with them on the way. Are you all good to go?” he asked, looking at Twilight and Hyrule especially.

Hyrule nodded, and Twilight glared at his feet, then sighed.

“Yeah. I can walk.”

“Good. Let’s get going then,” Time said with a nod.

And as he took a step forward, he was suddenly doused in shadows.

Everyone jumped, and Hyrule stared as the shadows grew smaller, condensing most intensely by the floor. He had a brief moment of panic before he recognized what the shadows meant, and he froze, exchanging quick glances with his siblings.

The shadows faded away mere moments later, and a small, one-eyed rabbit was left sitting dazedly on the ground.

Hyrule, Wild, and Twilight stared.

Then Wild fell to the floor laughing, and Hyrule bit his lip to stop his own from escaping, the rabbit that was now their father twitching his nose in alarm. He shouldn’t laugh, he really shouldn’t, but Time was so small, and fluffy, and seeing his father as a rabbit of all things was just...

Hyrule couldn’t help his giggle, and Twilight knelt beside Time, their father swiveling his ears in his direction and giving him a wide-eyed look.

“Are you, um, okay Dad?” Twilight asked, his mouth twitching, and Time blinked once or twice, before letting out a rather squeaky sigh.

“I’m fine. Come on, the sooner we fix this the better,” he grumbled, voice slightly squeaky, and began hopping in the direction they’d planned to go in.

Wild finally stopped laughing, though it was a close thing when he saw Time hopping determinedly across the floor. Twilight followed after their father, and Hyrule and Wild trailed behind, Wild still letting out an occasional giggle.

"I guess that answers the question of whether he has both of Legend's powers," he snickered, and Hyrule shook his head in disbelief. This day couldn't get any weirder.

Twilight lifted Time up to sit on his shoulder after only a minute or two of walking, their father's face surprisingly grim for a rabbit, and Hyrule glanced at them, anxiety still churning in his stomach.

He still felt a little shaky and unsure from the shock of his powers being gone, worried for the rest of their group, and Time being a mostly-defenseless rabbit only added another layer to that. But Wild seemed confident, and Twilight and Time were both putting on brave faces, so Hyrule decided he would be too.

They could do this. They’d stop the scientist guy, and make him fix this.

Screwed up powers or not.

And Hyrule kept telling himself that, even when Twilight lost control of his legs again and smacked into a wall mere moments later.

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 months ago

Text

Safe Haven Sneak Peek

Here's a sneak peek to the first fic I'm posting this year. It's safe for anyone to read. But please note the actual fic will contain several warnings and is not for minors.

In the meantime, enjoy this teaser. Tell me what you think, tell me how you feel. My inbox is open for all your potential screaming needs.

“Have you given much thought to designated sanctuaries?” She asked as she brought her coffee mug to her lips.

He honestly hadn't. “What kind of sanctuaries?”

Her head tilted to the side as she looked him over from across his desk. His usual well kept hair had lost its hold some time between his last meeting and now. The charcoal grey suit jacket has been long since discarded on a hook in the corner of his office. The sleeves of his shirt were neatly rolled in a way she had only ever seen him accomplish. He was more relaxed after hours and she enjoyed this side of him a little more.

“Much like the other factions, your sea inhabitants are going to need places to be themselves without repercussions.” She noted as her eyes trailed back up to his. “Not all of them have the opportunity to live by the ocean or in safe places.”

His eyebrow raised. “Please continue.”

“For instance, humans have their fair share of places that safely feed into their carnal desires, and protections and laws that keep them safe from the supernatural. Vampires now have safe blood dens to ensure a feed doesn’t go wrong. The wolves have designated sanctuaries to enjoy their turns without fear of harming anyone. Fae sanctuaries provide them with what they need, some which I still don't understand myself. Sirens, they would need something like that. A place where they could sing without fear, have the freedom to stay submerged in the water without someone freaking out about it. It would give them the opportunity to fall back into their baser nature and enjoy their own carnal desires without it coming to bite them in the ass.” Her heart warmed at even talking about the possibility of a safe haven. “Of course protocols would need to be put into place to ensure no one is being taken advantage of.”

Elijah nodded his head as he took in the information. He was surprised how easy it was to dive into the information for her. It made him smile to see the look in her eyes as she spoke. “You've thought about this. You really care about them.”

She smiled. “More than I can express. Like I said, they were hunted for the wrongdoing of a few.” She paused for a minute. “Can I ask why it's important to you to start this process?”

That question had been on her mind since she was standing in the conference room with him. Any time they met to discuss details, she couldn't bring herself to ask. Part of her was afraid of the answer.

She knew it had to be a good reason for him wanting to try out the process. To create something for a species that was hated. But part of her wondered if there was something beneath that reason.

He sighed as he ran a hand along his face. “I've met a few sirens in my existence. I've seen them, experienced their allure and until recently, I hadn't heard a siren’s song in centuries.”

“Until recently?” She asked curiously. There was also a bit of excitement growing within her. She hadn't come across another of her kind since she went on the run. “You heard a Siren?”

Sirens could sense each other in some way or another. It was a way to establish each other from that of prey. After Sirens moved onto land, it had mostly been used to distinguish territory and presence. And until now, she hadn't realized how much she missed knowing there was another Siren close by.

He chuckled at her excitement. Getting out of his seat, he moved around the desk and sat on the edge of it, right beside her. “It was a few days before that meeting. My siblings and I had been out to dinner. When we were leaving, I heard it. It caught my attention instantly. Strangely, my siblings couldn't hear it and feared something was wrong.” He watched as Y/N leaned closer, placing her arm on the arm rest, propping her chin on her fist as she listened. “I assured them I was fine. It didn't help my case when I went in search of the source. But the song was soft, enchanting in a way I've never experienced before. There was also an element to it that felt… peaceful. Almost as if it was calling me home. Just when I believed I was getting close to the source, it stopped altogether. I knew it belonged to a Siren. There is nothing and no one else that is capable of creating such a thing. Yet, it seems I was the only one to experience it.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked.

She tried to keep her demeanor calm as she listened. There were bits and pieces of what he said that had her naturally wanting to react, wanting to explain. But at the same time, that bit of information was feeding into thoughts she wasn’t ready to face herself.

“A Siren song in New Orleans.” He said as if it was obvious. When she raised her eyebrow, he continued. “There weren't others that stopped and questioned others if they'd heard it. There wasn't sudden chaos at learning there was a Siren within our borders. A Siren hunt didn't consume the quarter.”

Her eyes moved away from him as she sat up in her seat. That piece of information added to the feeling that bloomed within her. It should have brought more excitement to her, but instead it made her worry about how things were going to change.

“My mom used to tell me stories about Siren songs.” She began as she continued to look down at her hands. “Yes, their songs could mean your death. But there were also other songs too. Songs just to sing and spread folklore, lullabies to soothe and comfort, and there was one other. One that was said to bring them what they seek comfort in. It’s said that it’s usually only Sirens that can hear the song. But on the rare occasion that someone outside of the species hears it, it’s said to mean a great deal.“

Elijah heard the words she’d been saying. At the same time he heard the way her heartbeat changed. It picked up as it normally did when she was nervous about something. He also took in how she hadn’t pulled her attention away from her hands as she spoke.

Out of the many versions of her he’d seen, he wasn’t sure he’d seen her like this. To shy away as she explained anything. She was animated as she spoke and to see her look almost afraid, it stirred something within him. He’d give and do anything to make sure she didn’t feel that way. He reached out gently, his fingers going beneath her chin, lifting it up to see her face.

At his touch, the sound of a content hum played in her throat. Her eyes met his and she hadn’t missed the way his own eyes had moved down to her lips before coming back to her eyes. Her skin warmed in a way that made her body want to give into the parts of her that she attempted to keep at bay.

Her instincts were telling her she should just give in. To not care about being in hiding because it was going to be okay. That’d she be able to breathe in a way she hadn’t in years. But how could she force that upon someone who didn’t know? Who believed she was a simple and plain human.

“What makes it a great deal?” He asked as he moved his fingers from her chin and up along her cheek.

“Besides comfort?” She began as she tried not to lean into his touch. “A Siren trusts you to be their safe haven. Their peace, their home."

#Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson fanfic #Elijah Mikaelson fic #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Elijah Mikaelson x Siren!Reader #Sneak peek #Fic Sneak peek #Fic Teaser #Elijah Mikaelson fic teaser

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