#coping mechanism he had at the time and just sorta. ran with it.

[im-smart-i-swear]

guy trapped in a hell of his own creation: haha ive never done anything wrong in my entire life. and im always right:] anyway. why did my little brother move out:(

its so funny to me that at first glance tashi seems like hed be the most 'normal' out of all the clones but at least all the others are slowly healing n shit while hes just getting more and more insane each day and one day hell snap and explode and maim someone

[cluelesslesbian]

• lance choses his room first because he's pretty overwhelmed by the whole situation

• one minute he's seeing what pidge is up to with hunk back at the garrison

• the next, he's flying in a mechanical blue lion, meeting alteans in some castle on another planet

• he needed some alone time to think things over

• him, hunk, pidge, shiro and ugh- mullet head, are supposed to become the paladins of voltron?

• it was a lot to take in

• when could he see his family?

• would they possibly take a pit stop to earth?

• his family doesn't have a clue on where he is

• keith is following not far behind and notices which bedroom lance chooses

• he looks around the hall as if someone would be there to judge his decision

• and chooses the room right beside lance's

• not because he wanted some excuse to be near lance of course to possibly get rid of the whole rivalry thing

• it just...happened accidentally

• he finds himself regretting his decision

• when lance finds out he's a little taken back, assuming he'd choose a room next to shiro's

• he wasn't going to admit this either because they're rivals 😤

• but he was a bit happy to have keith's room near his

• and would hide how he really feels with a "god. i can't believe mr. drop out PURPOSELY choose his room next to mine just to bug the shit out of me, smh."

• keith's response to that would be something like: "ha...yeah, cause i hate you. a lot. there's no other reason why i choose that room. nope. not at all."

• lance gets obnoxious by blasting music in his bedroom purposely during random times of the day, singing along with the songs

• keith either kicks the wall (which does nothing)

• or comes in the room with his knife held up high

• because of their rooms being together, they're told to wake each other up

• keith ends up having to wake up lance more other than vice versa

• he walks into the room, awkwardly standing there and just kind of staring before actually attempting to wake him up

• he slides lance's headphones down gently and nudges his shoulder

• lance only mumbles, reaching out to grab keith's arm

• keith has a small gay panic and ends up yelling his name, yanking his arm away

• which freaks the fuck out of lance

• he doesn't shut up about how keith "aggressively woke me up like the castle was on fire! i thought getting older meant i wouldn't get crazy wake up calls like the one's my siblings would do."

• the rare and i mean rare times when lance wakes keith up

• lance will barley touch keith's shoulder and he jolts awake, grabbing his knife from under the pillow

• some nights when keith wakes up, due to a nightmare, he hears the gentle yet muffled from a guitar coming from lance's room

• sometimes he'll even hear him singing softly

• it soothes keith, making it easier for him to fall back asleep

• one time keith accidentally walks in on lance playing the guitar during the day

• he sorta freezes up but relaxes his shoulders after a moment

• they just sort of stare at each other in awkward silence

• keith: you know- i've heard you play before- not to sound creepy or anything...and uh, you're pretty good

lance: really? thanks man. playing usually helps me cope when i'm down in the dumps and has just become a hobby of mine

• then lance gives keith the softest smile ever that makes keith's heart pump as if he'd just ran laps around the castle

• he makes up a lame excuse to leave

• lance frowns at his sudden excuse and assumes he'd said the wrong things and starts apologizing

• keith waves him off, apologizing himself, telling lance he wouldn't mind hearing him play some more

• so lance offers he sits across from him as he played

• lance explains the song he's playing was his mothers favorite song, singing the lyrics in spanish

• keith had no idea what he was saying, but that didn't matter

• what mattered was the joy displayed on his face as he sung, confidence shining through his eyes

• at this moment keith had come to realize that his crush he had on lance might be something more

this one went from klance having rooms next to each other to keith pinning over lance playing the guitar- whoops

— 🌙 moon anon

YESYESYES

I cannot believe we have no context for how the paladins chose their rooms?? Like ajdkfl WHAT YOU WROTE IS SO GOOD- the creators couldve totally shown us how the paladins would cope after tough battles by showing us a scene like that???

aaaanyways now for my screeching

I LOVE the langst. like srsly.

Lance would totally feel comfortable with Keith's room next to his- BECAUSE Keith doesn't remember know him as well as the Garrison Duo

Like hear me out,, it's so much easier to let yourself feel sad when you know you don't have to worry about?? making others feel responsible for it????

So Hunk and Pidge would only make him bottle up his feelings more,

Hunk especially would feel bad about Lance feeling bad which would make Lance feel bad and itll just spiral right there

and Shiro is his HERO- absolutely no way Lance wants to show "weakness" around him (very unhealthy mindset btw! feelings ain't bad to have, but I get idk wanting to pretend youre invincible to look good in front of people u admire :/ )

But Keith???? yeah. he'll work....

idk maybe I'm projecting too much with that^ one ahdjfk MOVING ON

awkward keith checking to make sure no one is gathering evidence that he's a simp??? hilarious and completely logical bc pidge and shiro would DRAG HIS ASS if they found out 😂

KEITH PULLING OUT THE KNIFE EVERY CHANCE HE GETS- LIKE THE DRAMATIC KING HE IS??? *CHEF'S KISS*

klance x music! klance x music! klance x music!!!

like that whole last scene was so soft I'm in love with it 🥺❤

PINING KEITH!!! BUT AFTER GETTING TO KNOW LANCE again?? AND LIKE NOT NECESSARILY AWAY??? TOP NOTCH

@lesbianklance come get yall juice

[saynotoshityouhate]

Taking Back Control

Summary: Bucky’s owning his traumatic narrative and taking his life into his own hands. I’m not sure his therapist would approve. 

Word Count: 1,549

Tags/Warnings: Poor stress relief tips, Mind Control, dom!bucky, trauma, therapy, oral (male receiving), facial (not the kind you get at the spa), aftercare

Bucky had texted you as he got ready to leave the office. 

I’ll be home in thirty minutes. Prepare yourself. 

You had been eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s on the couch, still in your PJs, when your phone chimed. “Fuck!” You read the text and scrambled to stand up. You rushed to clean up your mess from earlier before jumping into the shower. He expected you to be squeaky clean before he’d lay even his mechanical hand on you. You also set up your aftercare supplies, making it as easy for Bucky to take care of you as possible. With nervous excitement, you put on his favorite lacy, black lingerie that made you look like a sexy assassin. It was sorta his thing. 

Bucky got into his blacked out Mercedes and raced home. He had a really difficult day at work and knowing he’d be able to see you and have some control over something today was already providing him with some relief. After “graduating” from Wakanda and his Winter Soldier related trauma, he sought to take life into his own two hands - especially the vibranium one. He began learning the science behind mind control - similar to what was utilized on him. You two had been dating for two years at that time, and looking for a way to spice things up in the bedroom. Bucky brought the idea of erotic mind control to you one night, explaining how everything would work, and why it was important for him to try as part of his healing process. He walked you through all of the ground rules and was open to hearing all of your questions and concerns. You loved him and were willing to try anything once. 

Well, one time turned into two, and two turned into three. Now, about a year later, you were going under once a month, for no longer than an hour. He was extremely protective of you, regardless of the pleasure it brought him. You noticed a difference in him, a calmness that wasn’t always present in stressful times earlier in your relationship. He was never hurtful towards you, of course not, but his coping mechanisms for the loudness in his head weren’t healthy either. This allowed him to take back his own narrative and process his internal struggles with you by his side. 

You resumed your movie, as if nothing had changed from earlier, the pint of Hunka Hulka Burnin Fudge almost empty. Nothing had changed other than your outfit and the butterflies in your stomach. Bucky liked you to be calm and relaxed before getting started - not anxious or uncomfortable. He found it to be easier to implement the triggers when you were more comfortable. 

Bucky pulled into the driveway, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath and exited, walking towards the front door. He carried the stress of the day in his shoulders, draped in an exquisite blue suit and crisp white dress shirt. He had already removed his tie in the car, opening the top two buttons. He ran his hands through his hair before walking inside. 

Your eyes got wide seeing him walk through the door. You smiled at him, face turning to concern as he ignored you, kicking off his dress shoes and whipping off his suit coat. You could see the tension rippling through his back muscles underneath the white button down. He looked back at you and whipped his mechanical arm around, as if to stretch the shoulder joint in preparation. You sat up straighter at that, adjusting the lingerie that had shifted as you lounged on the couch. 

Moving his eyes over to you, his gaze softened as he looked you over. You really were beautiful, he knew that from the first time he saw you. “Ready?” He asked, giving you one last chance to back out of the evening’s activities. You nodded your head in agreement as he made his way over to you. “You know I need to hear you say it, doll. Use those pretty words of yours.” He looked down at you, one eyebrow raised sternly. “Yes, Mr. Barnes. I am ready.” You winked at him. He sat down next to you on the couch, taking both of your hands into his and looked directly into your eyes. His crystal blue eyes were hidden by the darkest black pupils, highlighted by bloodshot whites indicating his increased stress level. “I love you,” he stated clearly, squeezing your hands in punctuation. “I love you too, Buck.” “Alright, let’s begin.”

“Rain.” The smell of an impending rainstorm was one of your favorite things. 

“Fern.” The first gift Bucky got you for your birthday, when you thought you had a green thumb. 

“Crewneck.” The sweatshirt Bucky lets you wear to bed that smells like him. 

“Nashville.” Your favorite city in the world and first place you and Bucky went on vacation together. 

“Butterfly.” The tattoo on your right shoulder you got on a drunken night out in college. 

“Subway.” The place Bucky told you he loved you for the first time. 

“Doll?” Bucky cocked his head to the side, looking into your eyes to see if you were still awake. 

“Ready to comply.” 

Your body was relaxed, but at attention. You maintained your eye contact with Bucky, awaiting instructions. Looking at his wrist watch to note the time, he gave your hands a final squeeze. Standing up, he brought you with him. “Remove my clothing.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” 

You dropped his hands and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You pulled it from his arms and shoulders before neatly folding it and placing it on the coffee table. You repeated this step for his undershirt before unbuckling his belt and placing that to the side. “Kneel,” he commanded. “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Moving to your knees, you unbuttoned his dress pants. Moving the zipper downward, Bucky’s hips jutted forward with just the slightest touch of your fingers on his hardened length. You slid his pants downwards, and while still on your knees, you helped him step out of the pants and folded them as well. Placing them to the side, Bucky became inpatient. “Quicker movements, doll.” You snapped to attention. “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you ripped them down his legs, freeing his cock in the process. Bucky groaned as you resumed your folding and placing of clothing items. 

“Open your mouth.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Your jaw relaxed, and wasting no time Bucky moved himself into your warm, salivating mouth. Bucky moaned, his head lolling back. He absolutely loved this feeling. He moved his hands to the back of your head, gently moving you in time with his hip thrusts. You gagged, eyes watering and saliva pooling in the corners of your mouth. Even under mind control, your body wasn’t made to handle his size and strength. “Play with my balls,” Bucky grunted, sensing he was getting close. “Yeff, Merrr Brunss,” you replied, mouth too full to clearly speak but still following your directives. You moved your right hand underneath him, feeling for his warm, tightening balls, which you kneaded and squeezed. “Fuuuuck yes, doll, you feel so good,” Bucky moaned, his hips stuttering with the new sensation. 

“Prepare yourself.” Bucky growled the command. Mumbling your acknowledgment, you moved your hand from his balls and placed them on your thighs. You sat back on your heels, his cock falling from your mouth along with a mixture of saliva and pre-cum. You leaned your head back slightly, closing your eyes and keeping your mouth open. Bucky moved his mechanical hand up and down his shaft, gazing with hazy eyes upon his compliant, beautiful doll. How did he possibly get so lucky to have a woman like you to love. And with that thought, Bucky groaned, painting your face with his load. You stayed still, waiting for your next direction, despite the cum dripping into the corners of your eyes and falling from your chin onto your chest. 

Bucky looked at his watch. It hadn’t been an hour yet, but he was already exhausted from the day. He was ready for you to come back to him, the real you. Bucky reached over to the side table, where you had placed water and towels before he got home. He handed you a wet towel. “Clean off your face.” “Yes, Mr. Barnes.” 

After wiping your face clean, Bucky lifted you to a standing position. Holding your hands, he walked you over to the couch, where he began reciting your trigger words in the opposite order. 

“Doll? Come back to me, doll.” You smiled up at him, his shoulders sloped downwards, a sheen across his forehead and chest from the exertion. “Hi.” Bucky leaned in, kissing you deeply. “How do you feel, are you okay?” He held your face in his hands as he wiped away some leftover spend from your cheeks. “Of course, darling,” you replied. “I’m going to go wash my face. You get dressed and then we’ll have some dinner, okay?” He smiled and squeezed your hands again as you stood up to walk away. 

You chuckled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. He’d never find out you were never really under his control.

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt 10

Sorry for the wait everyone! this last week has been crazy! I am working on the next part and hope to have it up in the next day or so and be back on track. 

For more parts click here! Part 11

Warnings: Talk about harming others, blood. That’s about it. This chapter is more just trying to get Y/N acquainted with the league. 

Word Count: 2.4 k

TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi​ @operatorsdime @drownedbytears​ @emilymikado​ @fluidfandoms​ @gotagan @mikasackrmann​ @flowersgirl02 @bohica160​ @andrastesbeard​ @riapxq @percabethismyotp14​ @celestiallustre​ @moon-spirit-yue​ @hecatve​ @bakugoshirp @vanillanjinn @toshiuwuu​ @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus​ @callmepopcorn​ @xxdumb-bitchxx​

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Villains are the most compassionate people in the world apparently. Well not all of them were, but this lot was.

No one had said anything when you puked all over the floor. Not one snide comment when you curled up onto the ground dry heaving. Toga had stepped forward almost immediately, quicker than even Dabi, pulling your hair back from your face, taking a hair tie front her wrist and tying it up. Dabi hadn’t even growled at her, instead dropping to your other side rubbing your back cooing softly in your ear that it was okay. That it was over. Twice stayed quiet for once so not to say something wrong, instead taking off to go find cleaning supplies to pick up the mess. Spinner just stood there awkwardly.

Even Shigaraki stayed quiet, choosing to take off down the hallway leaving you with everyone else, Kurogiri following after.

“Come on, let’s go get you something to drink.” Dabi and Toga helped you up to your feet, guiding you down the hallway and through a door to the main bar area, sitting you down on a couch against the wall. You were shaking at this point, your ears ringing.

Toga curled up on the couch with you, petting your hair, while Spinner took a seat on the floor a couple feet away from you. You could vaguely hear Dabi tell her to watch out for staples, and a quick retort from her saying there was none but you didn’t care.  How could you? Someone was dead, and their last moments were in agonizing pain because of you. Because you got upset... because they tried to hurt your alpha. 

Dabi came around the bar kneeling in front of you with two drinks in his hand, water and some kind of alcohol, it smelled like whiskey.

“You’re going to want it. Trust me.”

You nodded taking the whiskey from him shooting it to the best of your ability, trading the glass for the water. Dabi got up briefly coming back again this time with multiple drinks in hand, one for each of you before he settled onto the floor in front of you, rubbing your legs soothingly like he could massage away the last however many minutes from your mind, watching you with guilt in his eyes.

You couldn’t look at him.

Twice came in and joined you, hesitating before taking a seat next to Toga who was currently picking apart your hair strands that had blood in them still, you briefly thought that you really needed to shower again.

“That was badass. You’re such a “ You could see Twice covering his mouth with his hand, struggling to keep whatever he was about to say inside. He looked absolutely tortured with himself, trying to keep things in check. Toga immediately switched from picking at your hair to pulling his head against her shoulder, petting him softly.

“He’s right… Y/N. That was pretty cool of you.” You felt sick to your stomach again and shifted away from the duo further on the couch. Why were they even here right now? To make you feel worse? In your mind you knew you would have to get over this at some point. If you wanted Dabi this would be your new normal, you would have to… hurt people. It didn’t make it any easier.

And he just sat silent, rubbing your legs like that would help. Dabi knew you were in an internal war. He knew what you were feeling right now. He wouldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much for you. That he wasn’t worth it. That you rather be free, or even go back to that fucking house. Dabi downed his drink, refusing to think about that. Knowing that deep down inside he wouldn’t let you go back to that house even if that was what you wanted with everything in your soul. He was selfish. Letting you go was one thing, letting his father have you back was another.

You sat frozen on the couch, nursing your second drink already feeling the effects of the first one. It wasn’t numbing like you had hoped. It just made you want to cry more but you refused. You needed to prove to these villains that you were fine. That you could handle this. That they didn’t have to get rid of you just because you were a cry baby. You knew just because Dabi was your alpha, that didn’t mean they would let you stick around. They had to make sure they could trust you.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N…” Twice was looking at you seriously now, curled up in Toga’s grasp. There was no second voice to follow. No snarky remark.

“I’m fine.”

“God, I hope not. We don’t need another crazy person.” Toga lightly smacked his head at his words, a smile pulling at her lips.

“What? I’m serious! The last thing we need right now is another psycho like Overhaul. Remember how well that went?” You looked over at the duo with confusion as Twice defended his words, Toga telling him to hush up but he just looked back to you and continued.

“If you’re fine right now, then you are in shock, and if your fine and not in shock you really should be concerned. I don’t know anyone that didn’t freak out the first time... other than Toga maybe, but she’s special. She’s crazy!” Toga rolled her eyes, covering Twice’s mouth with her hand.

“I’ve been dealing with blood since I was born.” She explained, a ghost of a blush crossing her cheeks like she was embarrassed. “You can’t really freak out about hurting people when you have a quirk like mine. The first time I really hurt someone though, like really hurt them, it was an accident. I ran away so fast no one even knew what to do. The look on everyone else’s faces, especially my friends... They started screaming at me saying I was a vampire. They weren’t very cute anymore.”

“Try killing yourself, that’s really awful.” Twice mumbled against Toga’s hand and visibly shuddered like he was remembering something, Toga immediately going back to stroking his head gently like she could sooth the thoughts. Somehow the little blonde had a calming affect on the other beta, you wondered what their relationship was.

“I don’t understand.”

“We all remember our first time, princess. We all hated it. We all probably threw up just like you did, or drank ourselves stupid, or whatever other coping mechanism we came up with. None of us wanted to do this. It just sorta happened.” Dabi finally spoke, his eyes latched onto his empty glass, like he was remembering something he didn’t want to either.

“We aren’t changing the world so we can hurt people. We are hurting people to change the world.” Spinner was speaking now. His voice surprised you, having not heard it before. You knew that he was a Stain fanatic but you didn’t know much else about him.

Kurogiri had snuck into the room. He was standing behind Dabi just a few feet away, looking almost shameful and you jumped when you noticed him, once again surprised by his sudden appearance. You wondered if mist could blush. You wondered a lot about the Beta in front of you.

“I would like to apologize and offer my condolences, Ms. Y/N. It is my fault that Compress went into that room and any of this happened to begin with. I am gravely sorry that you had to get involved like that.” He bowed low, his hands clasped in front of him.

“It’s okay...” You didn’t really know what to say, especially to that. Everyone was being so kind to you, for once you could actually see them as people, people with more than just pure hatred and murder in their hearts, people that were more than the blood they spilled.

It was a couple minutes of silently drinking before anyone said anything again. 

“You know… maybe I shouldn’t say this cause of the tender moment… but Y/N, you really stink.” Twice leaned away from you like you were going to hit him, or maybe like he was trying not to breathe in your stench, pinching his nose.

“Oh thank god, someone other than me said it.” Toga immediately jumped up from the couch putting distance between the two of you while trying to hide a smile on her face of amusement as she covered her mouth and nose with her palm.

Your eyes shifted over to Dabi’s who looked like he was trying to also hide a laugh, his hands had left your legs as he leaned back using his arms to prop him up and you immediately found yourself missing the warmth and comfort of his touch.

“You do kind of reek…”

You scoffed in mock annoyance. Your own lips twitching up in weak smile. They were trying. These crazy people that barely knew you, were trying their best to make you feel better, and it was almost working.

“I guess I’ll go shower then... I need clothes though. Preferably something that fits.” You looked down at the baggy sweats that were barely hanging onto your hips and the hoodie that looked gross as all hell with everything on it, before looking back up at Dabi pointedly.

“But you look so good in mine.” You could hear the way his voice dropped into a low growl that went straight to your lower stomach. You could feel your cheeks heating up. How was he able to flip that switch in you so easily? He was just telling you that you smelled bad!

“Ew gross. If you guys fuck can I watch?” Twice was back to his antics again, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Please don’t. I sit on that couch. I have some clothes that might fit you Y/N!” Toga ran off out of the room and you weren’t sure if she just wanted to get away from the two of you or if she was actually going to look for clothes.

You stood up, looking down at Dabi, mumbling softly asking where to shower to which he responded by grabbing your hands, hoisting himself off the floor almost pulling you down in the process before dragging you out of the room behind him with barely a goodbye to the others.

“So is that a no?”

You followed Dabi back to his room, noticing the conjoined bathroom once you were inside. The whole building seemed to be set up like an old hotel, the bar being the main room, but it seemed like there was a couple other communal rooms as well. Maybe he would let you explore a little when you were done. Get to know the place that was going to be possibly your new home. It was weird to think about it like that. Would the two of you stay here or go back to his old apartment?

“I’m gonna go find Shigaraki and update him on the Shoto situation while you’re cleaning up. We need to get a plan in place before he shows up and tries to kill us all.” Dabi paused when there was a knock on the door, opening it to let Toga bounce into the room with a stack of clothes. Dabi wrinkled his nose at the scent of them, his lips almost settling into a pout when he realized you would smell like her. “I’ll be back. Please don’t go running around until I get back. We might have to work quickly to get everything set up…” He paused again looking at the clothes his alpha focusing on them. “We can go shopping later too… for your own clothes.”  

You nodded, taking the clothes from the petite blonde, smiling gratefully at her before she turned and flitted out of the room, smirking at Dabi as she passed. He slammed the door behind her much to her annoyance. Stinky little brat. Dabi loved her like a little sister but man was she annoying sometimes, her scent especially.

“Okay.” You shifted from foot to foot watching Dabi as he shifted his intense hooded gaze back to yours. You could feel the energy in the room change, your omega perking back up from her sleep now that the two of you were alone, attention piqued. You thought back to the way his lips had felt against yours no too long ago. He was thinking about it too.

“We might have to lay low for a while, find a different place to hide out just the two of us until things calm down.” Just the two of you? By yourselves? Hiding away? You could smell the excitement coming off of you at just the thoughts in your head.

“Don’t look at me like that,” His voice was low, gravelly, a warning as he held the doorknob loosely to keep himself grounded. To remind himself now was not the time.

“Like what?” Did you not realize what you were doing to him when you looked at him like that? Like you were an innocent little thing waiting to be corrupted. Surely you did. He could smell you from here, across the room. It was like a little slice of heaven. He wanted to make it his.

“Like you want to be fucked.” Dabi was delighted in the way that your cheeks turned red, your lips parting to suck in a breath of air in surprise at his words, at how you didn’t even protest. He wanted to bend you over his bed right now and… no… he wanted to take his time with his little mouse. He wanted to worship you, to show you just exactly how he felt with no distractions from the world outside. Just the two of you.

In order to do that he had to take care of some things first.

“Go shower.” He growled out before retreating from the room, shutting the door with a thud, leaning against it staring up at the florescent lights on the ceiling. He could still smell you out here, though it was very faint, the scent blockers throughout the building doing their jobs.

His alpha was screaming to go back in there and have his way with you, fuck the rest of the world, but his logical side reminded him that you guys didn’t have much time left before a horde of heros showed up to come rescue their damsel in distress. There was no way Endevor was going to let his little show dog’s omega get stolen.

Dabi took one deep inhale of your scent, adjusting himself in his pants before pushing off the door and forcing himself to go find Shigaraki. They needed a plan or else this was going to be a bloodbath.

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Want to show your support? Buy me a coffee! 

[marsgod]

the fact that we actually became friend because of ur first matchup event and now u have another one is just >>>>>

so to honour (a previously nonexistent but shhh) tradition imma request again, but this time for genshin instead of twst.

i'd sure hope u know me by now but still (ill help jog ur memory if needed and try describe myself in a diferent way than i usually do too). my mbti is intp im a cat person and i hate getting up early in the morning w every bone of my body. my green flags are that im a good listener, loyal, selfless (when it come to ppl i care abt) and i value honesty. my biggest red flags would be the fact that my top kin is (unfortunately enough) dazai osamu from bsd (idk if u know who that is but hes not someone u wanna relate to even after reading real dazai's books) and the fact that i use humour as a coping mechanism (it does make me extremely funny but still)

im still look the same, except my hair is shorter cuz i had to cut it at the beggining of the school year since my school doesnt allow dyed hair. so no more blue tips :(

my hobbies are literally anything creative from painting to writing (ofc) and my dream date is still smth like stargazing on top of this very specific abandoned building near my house w a picnic if junkfood or visiting all the hole in the wall type places in a city of all dif types (from restaurants to smoll libraries to unknown thrift shops) and holding hand in the public transport to get there.

still u get the ideea.

(also u dont have to do this if u dint want to i wont take it personally or anything)

and again congrats on ur milestone ily dont forget to drink water and eat something! (its 1 am as im writing this i had a history essay to finish lol, but i know its like midday for u so enjoy the rest of ur day im going to sleep now byee)

╰┈➤ I’d match you with… Thoma!

Thoma is like.. The ultimate animals person in general, imma be honest, and he’s def gonna take you on cat island dates for lunch and stuff

Maybe camp there if you two get the chance!

He’s slightly concerned at the humor as a coping mechanism, but if it helps you then you’ll receive a slight nod with and small smile

He might snort due to being caught of guard

Thoma writes these little entries just to keep track of when was what, but writing overall isn’t his thing, but lean/lay on top of you while you write and mess with your hair<33

since Thoma generally makes it a point to get to know local residents of wherever he’s at, he learns about any “secret” and hole-in-the-wall places fairly quickly, specifically for food!

Abandoned buildings specifically make Thoma sorta jumpy, but he loves you so he’ll go for you

Thoma will just be incredibly nervous and sweating

Not super into PDA but still likes to hold your hand and. all that<333

Thoma, unfortunately, gets up with the sun, and manages to run into every possible thing while still drowsy

Don’t be surprised if you wake up scared shitless because Thoma just ran straight into a door frame.. Or your desk, or literally anything

“- And the tabby over there is Mei, she’s an old lady.. Be careful, she’ll scratch you!”

[hellonoblesky]

Happy Saturday it’s past 2am here’s Harbinger Angst. Because I’m up late and I’m havinggg thoughts.

So here’s my hcs about the Harbingers reacting to/dealing with the news of Signora‘s death :)

(CW For like. Mental breakdowns and guilt and general emotional instability because no one is having a good time here. Oh also cussing, anddd some familial angst in Childe’s bit? Also I am so sorry about any misspellings n whatever it is. Very late and I already have two other posts in my drafts collecting dust that are also HCs so.)

Dottore:

So if you don’t follow my art blog or haven’t seen my Harbinger hcs (which are under the process of some change with new info being released and whatnot), you don’t know this but I HC Dot and Signora to be like sorta just evil siblings

Now because death is such a commodity in Dot’s uh… specific line of work, he doesn’t register that Signora is dead until like two days after he hears the news

He picked up the phone (rotary perhaps?) to go call up Signora‘a office to see if she has any good gossip and then stopped halfway through dialing because it hit him that she’s never going to be there to pick up the phone on the other end. Ever.

He usually listens to music when he’s working but with the absence of Signora ranting he has to take up listening to the radio on top of the music

Problem is: the radio doesn’t have the same charm and cadence to it that Signora’s rants did, because normal people are boring and it’s going to drive Dot up the walls if he has to listen to one more commercial or one more anxious ramble about how cool and great the Fatui are from some stupid radio host trying not to overstep the Tasritsa’s favor like she listens to some boring ass radio station in her spare time!!!

HE HATES IT. But is forced to make do because if he shows weakness he will be torn apart (or so he thinks)

So this leads to him locking himself away in his office even more than he already did

Because he was already intrigued by the traveller after their actions in Mond and their victory against Childe, but them beating Signora in a duel before the Shogun? Oh now that kickstarted a whole new line of study

Especially because his only coping mechanisms are Be Destructive and Dive So Far Into Work You Don’t Think so within about three days he has a comprehensive analysis of everything he can possibly get his hands on regarding the Traveler (without interacting with other people) and is about to pass out because he hasn’t slept

Oh and the funeral was absolute hell for him.

Mainly because while he was barely conscious he agreed to play violin at the service and then promptly passed out and forgot about it so he woke up and was hit with the consequences of his own actions in the form of sheet notes

He endured, obviously, he’s not going to back down from playing something at the funeral of one of the few interesting people in the organization, that’s what tools and cowards do and this might be the Fatui but if he’d survived the wrath of dead gods he would make it through this

Went right back to locking himself away after that though

He actually got bad enough that the other Harbingers took notice of his state and MADE him come out of his labs and eat (mainly at demand of the Tsaritsa because she just lost the Crimson Witch as an asset, she wants the rest of her Harbingers in good health god dammit, the Traveler is becoming a genuine threat)

Broke down at dinner a week after the funeral

Swears that if any of the other Harbingers bring it up ever ever again he will kill their bodies and keep their consciousnesses trapped in a machine that he controls forevermore

Really he’s just glad that no one immediately pounced on one of his few shows of weakness

Maybe he’ll risk it again if it means he can cry it out for another hour but he wouldn’t dare say that out loud, won’t even finish the thought

But you know what he will do?

What he does best, of course

Look at an oddity in the world (in this case the traveller) and seek to pick it apart until he can put it back together without looking and still have it work

The only way he can actually get through his grieving is by finding something to take the edge off

And it just so happens that the traveller is a perfect candidate

Childe:

By no means has he ever liked Signora, in regards to personality or method, but her death still hit him

He had to travel back to Snezhnaya for the funeral, and it did absolutely cheer him up to see his family again and get to spoil them all silly, but with a mind whirling with thoughts it was genuinely hard for him to keep a smile up

Mainly thoughts about battle, because that’s really the only way he can interpret the world at this point

Like he keeps thinking about weather the Traveler was holding back with him, or if they had gained the strength to fight off yet another Fatui plot just in the month or so since Liyue? And if they had gained strength, how had they done it so fast? If they’d been holding back against him had he not shown himself to be a fighter worthy of their strength? Had Signora even faced the Traveler‘s full strength?

Overall his head is much too full of too many things, and it wears him out to the point that he ends up sleeping in late enough for his family to actually worry because usually he’s up before dawn training and they don’t see him until the afternoon

But he’s back on track as soon as he can, because the training helps him think, and once he can resolve most of his thoughts (or repress them so they don’t bother him too often) he’s absolutely alright and fine and ready to go! Totally. Fine. It’s fine.

The thoughts were very much There during the funeral, especially as the first harbinger read a (somewhat summarized version) of Signora’s life to the assembly of Fatui

(Oh and Pierro didn’t really care weather or not Signor wanted people to know her life after she died because she was dead now what was she going to do??)

The reveal that Signora had been fighting for the Fatui because her lover had been killed by the actions of the Anemo Archon, and she desired nothing more than to see him again… it got to Childe. It got to Childe more than he’d like to admit

Because suddenly the woman who he had always known as the embodiment of frostbite and frozen barbed wire fencing had someone she had cared about, genuinely cared about, to the point where she had become the Mondstadt legend, the Crimson Witch herself

And she had lost that lover to the actions of a fool of a God

He swore silently to himself that when the Tsaritsa‘s future came to pass he would make a little monument for Signora. Nothing big, probably a plaque on a nice stone where Mondstadt would have been before the Tsaritsa’s success, but a monument nonetheless

This promise was a spur of the moment thing, and later he would be like “Man she was a jerk, lost love or not why did I promise her that?“ but he doesn’t go back on promises

Besides, actually watching Dottore break down in a grief and sleep-depravation induced haze was also something that got to him because of course the two people he happened to simply Hate The Most in the organization were close that makes perfect sense but also wow it is weird to see Dottore cry and it feels Wrong because after murdering and tormenting so many people… Signora is gone and he breaks then??? What the fuck

Avoids most of the Harbingers after that, just heads home to Morepesok to spoil his siblings silly before going back to Liyue

Oh and his siblings can tell something is up, Teucer especially because when his brilliant big brother, the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya, is suddenly struggling to keep a smile even though they’re at home… he notices

Childe’s other siblings are all avoiding the subject, they heard about the death of Signora and all, they just assume the organization is going through it tight now and frankly most of them are a little afraid of him weather they‘ll admit it or not

Not Teucer though, he’s confused just because he still has grasped how Snezhnaya works yet, so he goes ahead and asks anyway

Childe just says he’s sad because he has to leave again so soon! And he hasn’t even been able to take Teucer fishing this time, isn’t that sad?

Teucer can tell that he’s lying

But Teucer is also beginning to sense the danger that lies behind Childe’s eyes, so for the first time? He doesn’t push it or say that they could go fishing now if they hurry

Just a grin and a “Next time!! Promise?” Makes it all better and he doesn’t have to think about why his big brother feels unnerving to look at sometimes

Childe is oblivious to Teucer’s growing awareness

He heads back to Liyue and makes himself focus on work

Scaramouch:

Now he didn’t particularly like Signora either, and didn’t really care about her life’s story, because blah blah blah we get it lady you lost someone, we all did, cry about it or whatever

But he does feel… he feels guilty for leaving her to face the Shogun

He had the Gnosis, he had finished Signora’s mission for her without even meaning to, and he had thought it would be funny to just let her face the Shogun without knowing that

To some extent, it’s his fault she’s dead

And it’s not the fact that she died because he didn’t go get her that weighs on him, it’s that he left her to the Shogun of all things

I don’t know if puppets like Scara can feel things like people and such do, but considering how the Shogun expressed frustration and stress when Ei disabled the majority of her functions, I’m going to assume they can

And because of the meddling of ‘some eccentric scientists’ his emotions are probably toned down a tad but he can still feel guilt all the same

And leaving Signora to the Shogun makes him feel guilty because he and the Shogun are essentially kin

Disowned and disavowed kin, but you know

He may have been able to easily counter the Shogun, or even help Signora prevail in her duel, but he. Ran. Off.

He happens to think that that was very cowardly of him

It causes a spike in his aggression which everyone unfortunately has to notice every time he walks by because the sheer static electricity that snaps in the air when he’s in the room now? Haha. Ouchie

Fun fact: he has no idea how to cope with guilt

He channels ALL of it into SHEER RAGE

Ever seen a couple hundred year old man go absolutely apeshit in the Harbinger‘s shared training arena? Well now you have!! It’s not a pretty sight!!

He’s crying and can’t tell why, which fuels his anger, which fuels stress as a fun side effect which just makes more tears and now he has to snap someone in half because he needs it to stop he hates it here he hates it here he hates it here

And in the beginning the guilt wasn’t even that severe for him, it was just so immensely magnified by his lack of coping skills that he very nearly broke himself down

He tried going to Dottore to get it disabled but Dottore had his doors all locked so Scara couldn’t even get a word through to him

Oh and the funeral was fine with him he just left early because he didn’t want to deal with looking people in the eye at the time because, again, his lack of coping skills with guilt magnified the whole feeling so it was almost unbearable

It’s a lot of fighting and breaking things before he’s able to resign himself to some semblance of how he was

[neondrawsthethings]

Uhm... Hey everyone lol. And welcome to my Danny Phantom & Flynn Fenton story.

I am alive, I’ve just been so busy with personal stuff and college. I mostly wanted to post this because I am an avid fan of Danny Phantom and I absolutely wanted to talk about the video Butch put out a few days ago with Danny having a “mysterious older brother.”

This has actually inspired me to write for the first time in a millennia and while I’m a bit late to the party and very nervous, I really wanted to make my own version of the story on top of expressing my opinions. So here we go!

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I don’t like Butch like most people in the Phandom but I just want to preface this by saying that I think that his idea for a mysterious older sibling for Danny isn't a bad one, but the execution of it was very poor. The issues I mostly have of it is that it messes up some consistencies with the show, it has plot holes and instead of making Jack and Maddie slightly incompetent with people's safety, it makes them out to be negligible criminals.

A Summary Of The Original Story:

The original story went that they had 3 kids, Flynn Fenton (who's age was not disclosed but he might have been about 10), Jazz Fenton who was 4 at the time and Danny who was 2. Jack and Maddie had created a uncompleted Ghost Portal that Flynn had turned on, wandered too close to when it somehow started working and was subsequently grabbed by a mysterious ghost from the other end. The portal suddenly stopped working afterwards. Jack and Maddie found out about this after reviewing security footage in the lab, which they coincidentally didn't have when Danny had turned into a ghost.

After the whole incident, they hid the fact that Jazz and Danny had an older brother for years and take their time getting the portal to work again so they could save their son. Years pass and Jazz suddenly has a dream about Flynn and eventually confronts their parents over what happened and they tell their kids everything.

As for Flynn, Butch goes off in a tangent about a ghost who was responsible for the uprising and rebellion against Pariah Dark. I forget her name, but it was edgy and she honestly looks like a cartoon concept design for Thor's sister in Ragnarok, but if she had a Spiderman appeal to her.

Anyway, once Pariah was sealed away in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, she wanted to rule the ghost zone fairly and with justice. Or something. However chaos ensued now that the ghosts were free to do as they please without Pariah's wrath hanging over their heads. Over time, trying to keep balance in the Ghost Zone took a toll on “Thor’s sister” and she one day stumbled across and open portal and saw Flynn on the other side. She essentially kidnapped him and raised him to be her soldier for justice. Like the Winter Soldier.

The logic for this was that humans have ghost powers in the Ghost Zone. I mean, yeah they can fly and phase through things, but it was never actually mentioned whether or not humans had super strength in it. But go off Butch. Then he goes on to explain that in some reference to the Ant Man movie, over time Flynn just sort of gained powers as he became "one with the Ghost Zone" and became a powerful protector called "Exodus." Then Fartman went on to mention it was a reference for a machine in the Halloween episode.

So yeah, eventually Danny finds him and they've kind of got that dynamic of "I think you're the bad guy in this situation" when they aren't and duke it out until Danny eventually convinces this dude they're related. Oh yeah and Flynn had no memories of his human life.

Gonna be honest, I might have misremembered a few things but it’s honestly close enough.

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

The issues I have with this concept are as follows:

⦁ Jack and Maddie have essentially been the direct cause for 3 people being harmed (and sorta killed) in some way by their Ghost Portal experiments. This doesn't even border on negligible at this point. It basically is, especially considering they should have learned not to let Danny near their experiments after losing their first son.

⦁ They come off as criminals considering they hid all traces and knowledge of Flynn from Danny, Jazz and most likely all family members and didn't even report his disappearance. They even had cameras in their lab and that honestly puts across the idea that they disabled them in case one of their other kids gets hurt.

⦁ There's already a ghost who considers himself to be the law of the Ghost Zone and it would appear that Butch forgot he created Walker for that exact purpose.

⦁ The female character who was responsible for putting away Pariah Dark honestly isn't well fleshed out. She can imprison the most powerful ghost in existence but is essentially useless at stopping lesser ghosts from causing chaos? Even if she did have help, how exactly was she capable of such a feat to begin with?

⦁ This messes with the cannon a bit considering there are some plot holes that can't really mix well with the established story.

I saw some of these concerns were also mentioned by the Phandom. Giving Butch the benefit of the doubt here, I don't hate the concept but I think it needs to be worked on more. I've read about what some people's opinions were and at least the ones that gave real critiques had some good ideas. Like maybe making the sibling either Jack's or Maddie's and it would have helped with their obsession of ghosts.

I have my own plot hole filled ideas with how this could maybe be told better. I'm not a storywriter and this might come off a little edgy, but man I love coming up with ideas. So here's mine:

-------------------- 

My Story:

After the incident with Vlad, Maddie and Jack decide that their ghost hunting days are over and resolve to live a normal family life. They have their first son Flynn, who had solidified their decision to quit ghost hunting and settle. After a few years, Jazz and Danny were eventually born and it seemed they had the perfect life.

One day while vacationing in a wooded area (location can change), Flynn had wandered not too far from the camp. Then a flash of light suddenly burst in front of him and he could see a whole other world. Jack and Maddie were alerted to the sound and ran towards where it came from. They gasped at what they saw and knew exactly what Flynn was staring into; a ghost portal. 

Before they could yell for him to stay away, a hand suddenly reached out and pulled Flynn in, the portal immediately closing as soon as he entered. Maddie and Jack were devastated. No one believed them when they explained what happened to their son, and this incident became the catalyst for them to start their ghost hunting careers again.

They worked tirelessly for years to get the portal to work again. Jazz had eventually chalked up their obsession to being a coping mechanism because they couldn't handle the guilt of losing Flynn and were in denial that he was gone. Danny was more of a social outcast than ever because people assumed his parents had something to do with Flynn's disappearance.

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

Now with regards to why Flynn was pulled into the Ghost Zone, I would actually like to think Clockwork played a hand in it. I watched the Blood of Zeus recently and I kind of wanted to play around with an idea that inspired this next part.

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

Clockwork knows that Dark Dan was never going to stay imprisoned forever. The fact that he still exists, even outside of time, was an omen he needed to heed. So maybe he meddled with a few future possibilities. Maybe he tried to get Maddie and Jack to realise Ghost Hunting was something they shouldn't mess with after hurting Vlad, which led to their decision to settle for a family. Maybe... He wanted Flynn to exist for a purpose.

He was the one who pulled Flynn into the Ghost Zone. Clockwork told Flynn that he would be the key to saving the future from Dark Dan, but withheld information on who he really was until he was old enough. He taught him everything he needed to know on how to defeat Dark Dan and trained him over the years in combat.

Going off the idea that Danny is kind of really average in comparison to the rest of his family, Flynn is a technological prodigy. He created weapons that Vlad could only dream of creating and can utilise technology that puts Tucker to shame. Once he was old enough, Clockwork finally revealed who Dark Dan was and how he came to be.

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

As for the fighting portion of everything, I'm honestly not too sure how I could go about writing it. Obviously they team up to destroy Dan for good and Flynn gets reunited with everyone. He might actually prefer to stay in the Ghost Zone and be Clockwork's assistant. Idk.

This is as far as I can go with regards to the story and it was super fun to write. Hope you guys enjoyed reading it too!

[sisterkosho]

Modern!AU Headcanons | Geto Family

Credits: Y'all know the drill. Ayume art in the header by @hiikkups on Instagram. Go follow her. 🔫👁👄👁

Warnings: None today. Just some modern shenanigans for your reading pleasure.

Notes: Y'all also know the other drill. I procrastinate and don't write Ayume's bio, and y'all get some random fic/HC post because I gotta keep y'all fed somehow. With that being said, here's some modern HCs for the SuguYume fam while I work on the Discord, because we were talking about it again last night and it's honestly one of my favorites + another coping mechanism so yEET--

It all started when Ayume Nejireta Geto moved in next door with her husband and two children.

What could possibly go wrong?

Turns out, their elderly neighbor, Rui, was none to thrilled about their house having been built on top of one of her flower gardens. Despite it happening decades before they even arrived there.

Grandma holds a grudge ok.

Thankfully, she didn't scare them off like she did any of the previous families who had lived there.

You get used to her after awhile.

The one person she happened to take a liking to was Satoru of all people, who she met during one of the family's backyard BBQs. Which are always a mess btw, needless to say.

She even made cookies for him.

Ayume and Suguru were extremely confused because of this. How did he manage to get on her good side?

"She never gives us cookies, wth."

Turns out he had been flirting with her. Big surprise.

Though in his own defense, you'd never guess Rui was a grandma just by looking at her. The neighborhood is convinced she's immortal and doesn't age.

Ever since that day, Satoru made it a point to stop by Rui's whenever he's visiting. Just because he knows flattery will get him free food.

He's rarely allowed to visit specifically for that reason. Well, that and the fact that he's just a bad influence on the girls and everyone knows it.

Then again, the family friend, Juno, isn't much better.

He somehow got ahold of the spare key, and will randomly just let himself in.

They once woke up at 3 A.M because they heard rummaging around coming from the kitchen.

Suguru instinctively grabbed a bat and went to go switch on the lights.

Only to find Juno eating out of their trash like a raccoon.

This lead to the girls new favorite excuse.

"Juno ate my homework."

We don't talk about the time he brought a rock over claiming it was his son.

Sometimes they question why they still associate with him, but still let him stick around for whatever reason.

At the very least, he's intimidated by Ayume. So he doesn't cause too much trouble.

The family has a wide array of strange decorations in their home. Most of which they don't even recall buying.

Such as the weird plant in their dining room that sorta looks like it has a face...

There's also the model volcano the girls made for a school project.

For some reason, they had stuck one singular googly eye on it and named it "Jogo".

Ayume and Suguru were understandably a bit concerned, but It's fine as long as you don't make eye contact with it.

Ayume runs a little Etsy shop where she sells stickers she made. Along with some other little aesthetic items like pins.

For designs inspired by various curses, they're surprisingly cute.

The girls like to help her make some of the designs from time to time.

Since it's more of a hobby than an actual job, she always makes sure the money earned from the things they helped with are spent on them.

Shopping trips tend to be the most chaotic.

And that's not even considering the encounters they have with Mahito. The hobo that tends to hang around the entrance.

We don't talk about him.

Somehow, the trips always lead to Ayume running around while pushing the girls on the shopping cart.

Suguru always ends up having to chase after them because plz they're gonna get hurt--

Heaven forbid they run into Rui somewhere along the line, because it only gets 10x worse. She offers to push the cart and ends up almost knocking down every shelf and person in sight.

There was one instance where she ran right over Satoru.

After all that, Ayume and the girls end up making Suguru push them around in one of those carts with the seats on them for the rest of the trip because their legs got tired from running around.

They eventually end up getting kicked out.

Suguru sometimes has to wonder what he's doing here.

"How? How do you get us kicked out of WALMART?"

"Beats me. Hey, let's go to Ikea next!"

They are currently banned from 3 different Walmarts, two Ikeas and a McDonald's.

The McDonald's was from the time Satoru had come to visit and got stuck in the play place.

Suguru had to climb up there to try and get him out, but also got stuck.

Turns out, Rui had gotten stuck before they even got there. Which they only learned after hearing a faint "So. You too huh?" from the the next tunnel over.

In the end, they ended up having to call the fire department to get these two grown men and one grandma out of the play place.

It was on the local news and everything.

The footage had been provided by Nanako, who had recorded the entire incident while Ayume and Mimiko giggled hysterically.

You better believe they were never able to live it down.

After that nightmare, Suguru had tried to make dinner but ended up setting off the smoke alarm.

All he was trying to do was put a frozen pizza in the oven...

Needless to say, it was a rough day for everyone.

Date nights for the couple are rare and reserved for special occasions. Mainly because they hardly trust anyone to babysit.

Rui doesn't seem to understand the concept of children, and it would be a cold day in hell before they'd ever ask Satoru.

But sometimes, they manage to convince Kento.

He's the only one they find trustworthy enough for the job. Because although the girls find him a little boring and strict at times, he's the only responsible person they know.

At least with him, they can rest assured that the house will still be standing by the time they get back.

And on the plus side, the girls love Yu. Because let's face it, he's the fun uncle. So when Kento makes it a point to bring him along, there's always plenty of fun to be had.

Even if it feels like he's stuck babysitting 3 kids instead of 2 at times...

In case it wasn't already obvious, they're one of the most chaotic families in the whole neighborhood.

But that's what makes them interesting, so they somehow manage remain on good terms with everyone.

If one thing is for certain, it's that there's never a dull moment when it comes to the Geto family.

[dreaminpeaches]

(Welcome to the daydream drawing board, a tag where I share some my newest ideas not all of these ideas will be thought out--mostly just quick points-- but it's just nice to have them some where...oof)

TW: angst, mention of domestic abuse, child abuse, alcohol mentioned, father mentioned, bullying and guilt...

(Be sure you're mentally ready, you can come back later or take breaks while reading, it's kind of long...oof)

The most recent concept I dreamed up is about a couple consisting of a reformed/"retired" highschool bully/jock who falls for the new nerdy woman in town, this paracosm is mildly inspired by A Silent Voice, Bojack Horseman and Strange things (but only like a little bit)

Beau

He was the high school quarterback and star player

He was super popular and everyone wanted to be around him

His fave after school activities where smoking under the blenchers (after practice), going out to parties, making out with hotest girls in school (usually the new girls), bullying the weaker "outcast" kids, flirting with older women into getting him and his friends alcohol, and other dumb jock stuff

Beau always made fun of the weird nerdy kids; giving them swirlies, stuffing them in lockers, hiding their belongs (glasses, inhalers, backpacks, calculators, handle gaming devices etc), and throwing a few knuckle sandwiches at them on his worst days.

Beau bullied other because he had a rough home life, his father was abusive and usually came home angry and would take out his anger on the family (, mostly Beau's mom)

Beau's parents had him at young age, Beau's dad had big dreams at becoming a famous author but had a hard time getting his books picked up and blamed his career failures on Beau

Beau would try to protect his family from his dad's outburst but the only person he could protect successful was his little brother, Devin.

When Beau would try to protect his mother he would get brutally beaten by his dad in process, sometimes he would get hit so bad that he blacked out, because of this Beau's mom would tell him go to the treehouse and take his little brother with him in hopes they wouldn't hear their parents fight

In the treehouse, Beau would read books to Devin to distract him from what was happening, one of Devin's favorite books was "Is there a horse in your house?" A simple book about looking for a horse in a house, Devin would always find this book funny and hearing his little brother's laugh made Beau feel better, so Beau wouldn't mind having to read it over and over again. (This was back when Beau was in early middle school and Dev was in kindergarten)

Beau and Dev knew it was "safe" to come out, when their mother said dinner was ready, but there would be some days where they end up sleeping in the treehouse and waking up to their mom telling them breakfast was ready and they had to eat quietly while their dad slept

It was in middle school, Beau started to bully other kids, he liked the power and feeling of being able to fight someone and win, to be the one to be feared instead of being afaird, it was addicting

Football became a better way to cope with his feeling but he still bullied none the less.

Football was the only time where his dad wasn't as much of jerk, it was almost like Beau's dad was felt like an actual father when watching football, and being on the football team was an achievement his dad was actually proud of beau for, so thanksgiving and super bowl season was a somewhat peaceful time

Around sophomore year his mother finally got away from her abusive husband, soon after Beau's mom fell in love with a nice man, who actually cared about her and they got married and had a daughter together who became Beau's little sister, Carrie whom he loves dearly..

Beau is super over protective of his family (protecting both his siblings from other bullies, ironically), to the point where even when his mom found a new lover, Beau still keep his guard up and because of this his step dad is kind of intimidated by him

Beau was able to bond with his step dad over cars and mechanics, a topic Beau was obsessed about since middle school because he would dream of building a car that would be able to drive him and his family far away from his father as possible without stopping

Beau's step dad owns a gas station/mechanics shop, Beau would help out in the shop on weekends when he was free and occasionally steal beer for parties.

Despite his bully/typical jock persona Beau is actually quite patient especially when it comes to younger kids

Due how stressful her home life was, Beau would take it upon himself to look after his little brother and do chores around the house when his mom was unable to, he would even cook dinner and breakfast (a skill he learned to do at an earlier age compared to his peers), his dad often called him a "Sissy" for doing so..

Beau never asked for allowance, since his family was kind of tight on money he felt bad for asking, so he just took lunch money and allowance from the kids he bullied. Money would go to grocery money, money to buy gifts for his mother/brother, money to help with rent , or money just to buy the new NFL game or some alcohol or cigarettes.

In his high school days , sometimes when Beau didn't want to deal with his dad/home life he would crash at friends place or stay over after a party but he would call up to make sure his little brother/mother/sister were okay

Beau started smoking on a dare, when he realized it kind help ease the mental pain, he started doing it for real (same with drinking)

Even Beau liked to drink, he never drove drunk or let his friends drive drunk, if was a party mostly consisting of his friends he would try his best to be the sober one to drive everyone home

Beau was set to be a big football star once he graduated highschool he even got into an ivy league school, but there was something stopping him from focusing fully on his studies, (that and the fact he kind of cheated since he let the nerds he bullied do most of his homework since he didn't have time or just do lazy to actually do it himself in highschool), so he ended up flunking out

During the time he dropped out his step dad needed an extra hand at the shop, so he thought might as well go back home

At first Beau thought his family would be disappointed in him but they couldn't be more happy that he was back home especially his siblings

It was when he returned to his hometown that he finally realized what was feeling was haunting him this whole time it was the feeling of guilt he had gotten from being a bully for so long. Since most of his jock friends were busy with their college career, it left him with little to no friends in his hometown, Everytime he saw a familiar face around town it was usually one of his former victims, seeing them would give him a weird sick oozey feeling in his stomach, and it didn't help that his step dad ran popular mechanic shop that was frequented by the locals, the feeling of guilt got so bad at times, he would stay home from work but wouldn't really tell his parents why out of fear that they would hate him.

So, when Beau meets the new woman in town, Bonnie who works at the comic book shop/arcade/maid cafe, who becomes the only person Beau can talk to in town besides his family, and he starts to fall for her. He feels conflicted because this would be someone he would totally bully in high school, but shes really so nice and sweet to him, does he really deserve girl that nice, what happens if she finds out about his past, will Bonnie still love him.

Beau makes it his mission to try and make amends with the people he has bullied over the years, at first he does this on his own (with a little help for Dev whose middle school age now), without Bonnie knowing but one of the nerds used to bully kind of sorta also gets a crush on Bonnie and feels like she's too good for Beau, and tries to expose him for the "fiend" he is. This leads to Beau having mental break down when he knows Bonnie knows about his past, but she comforts him and accepts him for who he is, and helps him try to make amends with his past victims...

Some people accept Beau's apology right away (understanding his background), others take a while, some don't forgive Beau at all, which he respectfully understands, he was kind of jerk

Oof, this is prolly gonna be the most heavy paracosm I have if I continue it, but if I do post about it's mostly gonna be fluffy light stuff--nerd/jock dynamic interactions, along with toll/smoll dynamic interactions. OH by the way this paracosm is set in the 80/90s maybe early 2000s because they don't use smartphones in this paracosm it's mostly payphones, landlines, VHS tapes, DVDs and tape records (but I will use modern music if and when I make a playlist, so it might be a mixed timeline) also I don't have a name for this paracosm might edit one in later...

[mandobls]

serious

pairs: the mandalorian x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 570

description: of jokes and justification

a/n: i’m bACK sorry it’s been so long!! idek what i’m doing with this alliteration thing but im in too deep now lmaoo. alSo this is sorta like a thief-like mc, but it’s not, just a disclaimer! 

masterlist

she makes... a lot of jokes. 

great, you think, she’s funny. we get it.

no. you don’t understand. it’s... everything. everything she says or does is a joke. the jokes are... her. 

when the mandalorian first met her, hanging upside-down from the ceiling of a bounty’s home, face puffy from the blood and bruises littering her skin, she had grinned and said, “mind getting me down?”

when they ran from the place, angry shouting from behind them and the promise of safety in front of them, she’d groaned, “maker, i’m starving. can we stop there? please-” he had to physically drag her away from the cantina.

when he offered to hire her to help him pilot and take care of the child, she’d said, “yeah, sure! does the kid have insurance?”

he even asked her about it once. the first and only time she was serious about something was then. 

“you asked why?” he nods, shifting into a better position on the sand. she shrugs, picking up a handful of the stuff and letting it drain through her fingers.

“heard of a coping mechanism?” he stays silent. of course he has. he’s had too many of those. the pilot stands, walking closer to the water. moonlight spills onto the waves and her figure in rays. she turns and grins at him. it’s a familiar one that’s he’s used to. it spreads from ear to ear, mischief alight in her eyes...

her eyes. 

she thinks she is, but she’s not far enough away to hide her tears from the mandalorian. a vision in the moonlight, hair whipping with the wind, eyes shining.

that was the day he fell in love with her.

“deja vu, am i right?” the pilot pants softly as she sprints beside him, glancing over her should a couple times at the blaster-wielding bounty hunters behind them.

“unfortunately,” he replies, spotting the razor crest in the distance. 

“good thing i’m with you,” she sings happily, stealing a quick look at him.

“ha ha,” he deadpans, cursing as a shot clips and bounces off his pauldron. there’s silence beside him, a rather rare occurance.

“...what if i mean that?” he looks at her, confused (and admittedly, slightly hopeful.)

“what?”

“i mean, what if i’m in love with you but i’ve been to scared to say it because you hate me?” 

“what?”

“like, you don’t laugh at my jokes and you’re quiet all the time and you don’t talk to me. i know you hate me. you don’t have to-” he cuts her off, incredulous.

“heard of a coping mechanism?”

“w- what?” the two finally reach the razor crest, tumbling into the hatch. the pilot scrambles to the cockpit, taking off and sending them who-knows-where. 

“how’s this?” the mandalorian asks, leaning against the threshold of the cockpit. “you make less jokes and let yourself feel, and in return,” he steps closer as she stands. “i talk more, and-”

“open yourself up and tell me how things make you feel?” he nods, and she grins (yes, that grin.) “deal!” she raises a teasing hand for him to shake, but he bats it aside, gently guiding her head to rest on his chest, other hand resting lightly on her waist.

“you make me feel...” he hesitates, trying to make good on his promise and focus when she wraps her arms around his waist. “like everything i’ve experienced was worth it.”

“i love you,” she blurts, cooling her quickly-warming cheek on his breastplate’s cold beskar.

“...and i you.”

mando taglist: @llama259, @lustriix​, @fic-cheesecake​, @fifiyau105, @silteplaittais-toi​

complete taglist: @ispilledmyink​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @asaucecoveredsomething​, @multifandom-fiasco​, @wolf-lover74​

[secondhand-trash]

Paper Cranes

A/N: I know I said this about literally everything I write but this is self-indulgence af because please I just want someone to rant to when I have writer’s blocks (which is all the time) you get me? (Also, I’m not saying you have to do it but I’m def attaching a paper crane tutorial so everyone can get the whole iMmErSivE reading experience)

Pairing: Takami Keigo x reader

Description: Your unconventional way of handling writer’s block caught the eyes of a certain bird boi.

Word count: 3838

Warning: mentions of injuries/hospital

Playlist:

What’s My Age Again?//Blink-182 (This is a Hawks song you can’t convince me otherwise)

I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor//Artic Monkeys

The Next Time We Wed//The Fratellis

-

You knew that there were more productive things you could be doing right now, sitting at the outdoor area of a cafe with a half-empty mug next to a laptop but your brain felt more like a pile of mush and every word you typed out in the last 20 minutes made you cringe, which was exactly why you stopped doing that all together.

Refusing to even look at the untouched word document on the laptop in front of you, you pulled out a pile of coloured square paper and started folding it in a routine you knew at the back of your head. You sighed as you stared at the small crane in your palm. Your odd habit of folding paper cranes whenever you got stuck on something came when you were so infuriated with not doing anything that you started toying around with the napkin provided by the cafe. After getting bored of bunching up the paper towel repeatedly, you started looking up easy origami tutorials to forge the sense that you actually did something and wasn’t wasting your time by making something presentable. You settled with the elementary school level crane and it became the only origami you were semi-decent at making. You kept all the cranes you made from your writing sessions at the cafe in a paper bag you carried around all the time. The bag was half full and you weren’t sure how to feel about it, knowing full well that it implied that you spent a lot of the time you planned to use on writing making little to no progress.

It had become a routine for you almost. Going to the cafe with your laptop and notes, ordering coffee with as much extra shots of espresso the shop offers, open your document, your brain stops working midway, shifting your focus to folding cranes as an outlet for your frustration and self-loathing. So productive, so good for your mental health-

“I thought you are supposed to be writing?”

Oh, all that and being interrupted by this oversized blonde pigeon.

You did not stop even when you heard the sound of the man in front of you pulling the chair and sitting down next to you uninvited. Pressing down on the paper to form the beak, you threw the origami into the paper bag with the rest of its friends before finally lifting your head to meet the amused gaze of the winged hero.

“And I thought that heroes are supposed to be real preoccupied with saving people and all that,” you said as you lifted your brow, “I’m really starting to question if you are getting any work done, how come you’re always around?”

Hawks laughed, attracting the attention of by passers as some of them gawked at the number 2 hero who was so casually sitting there with someone who looked like they wanted nothing more than to wipe his grin off his face. “What can I say? You’re my favourite writer and I’m just trying to urge you to put new stuff out there.” he said, not without adding a wink at the end and you groaned in annoyance. You weren’t gonna lie and say that you didn’t feel the slightest bit flattered when the charming hero approached you for the first time, saying that he read your work. But as he showed up more and more frequently and invited himself to watch and gave snarky remarks as you struggled, it was like Hawks was trying to get you to be annoyed at him deliberately.

“What’s with you and paper cranes anyways? Ever think about switching things up and fold something else?” he asked, reaching for one of your creations and fiddled with it curiously despite the glare you were sending him.

“Cranes require the least effort,” you said as you leaned forward to snatch it out of his hand and groaned when he pulled back with a knowing smirk, “not sure if you can tell but I’m already on the verge of a breakdown. I’m not gonna put even more stress into doing something that is supposed to take my mind off of my lack of productivity.”

You let out a defeated sigh and fell back onto your seat which only made his smirk grew wider. He examined the origami for a little longer and shifted his stare back at you, “Can I have one?”

“What? No!” you snorted and launched forward to take it back as he let his guard down. You gave the hero a disbelieved look as he gave you a childish pout that was so unfitted for someone of his status. Before you met him, you always thought of the pro-hero as a suave and respectable person. Well, you still sorta did, but to think that this man was someone people rely on was something that became hard for you to imagine, especially seeing how child-like he was in front of you.

“But whyyyyy,” Hawks whined and motioned to the paper bag on the floor next to you, “you had made so many! What difference will it make if I take one?”

“They’re all my children and I love every single one of them,” you said as you dramatically placed a palm on your chest where your heart would be at, “you are dead wrong if you think I’ll ever let someone take away one of my babies.”

Hawks snickered, “God, are all writers so weird?”

“I don’t know, are all heroes annoying?”

He threw his hands in the air in defeat, “Fine, I won’t force you to separate from your children.”

“Good.” you nodded as you threw yet another crane into the bag.

“As much as I like talking about your crane obsession, I need to get going. Still a long way to go until heroes can properly slack off.” he said as he got up and stretched. HIs wings spanning widely as he extended his arms, threatening to push your things off the table and hit you in the face.

You quickly dodged the assault of his wings and bent down to shield your precious laptop, “Mind your ducking wings, you blind goose.”

He let out a full body laugh at your insult and started walking away, only to turn on his heels as he heard you call out for him. “Hawks?”

“Yes?”

“Put it back.”

He groaned as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out a tiny paper crane. He muttered something about you being telepathic while he let the origami slid from his palm into the paper bag where it belong and you couldn’t contain your grin despite your best effort.

You stared at the pile of paper cranes in front of you soullessly. If you were being self-deprecating and giving in to unhealthy coping mechanisms when you said you were on the verge of a breakdown before, you were seriously burnt out now. Usually, folding origami would give you the slightest bit of ease but it wasn’t working now. You could feel your head throbbing in pain as the blankness of the screen mocked you and you lowered your head with your eyes shut, trying to calm the stiffness in your brain just a little. You didn’t even pick up on the familiar sound of chair shuffling until a voice brought you back to reality.

“Wow, you must be really stressed out huh?”

With your forehead on the table, you groaned, “Not now, Hawks. Go bother some other civilian.”

”But you’re the most fun to be around!” he chuckled and you snapped your head up to stare at man. His laughter quickly died down under the gaze of your bloodshot eyes.

“What do you want, you featherbrained son of a birdspawn,” you grunted, “no. It’s not working. I can’t even find joy in insulting you anymore, this is bad.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he said, concern contrasting with his lighthearted words, “are you ok?”

“Not at all. It’s like I don’t even know how to form proper sentences. There’s so many ideas floating through my brain but it just goes ‘error 404′ when I actually try to write it out,” you ran your hand through your hair as you went on with your rant, “I’m spiraling and I don’t know what to do. I’m in desperate need for a distraction.”

Hawks looked at you as you took a deep breath, being quieter than you ever remembered him to be. You put your tired gaze on him and that’s when the red feathers poking from behind his back caught your eyes. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you needed a distraction and right now you wondered how you had never took much interest in the winged hero’s trademark before.

“Can I touch your wings?”

“What?” his eyes widened at your sudden request, almost believing that he had misheard what you just said.

“Can I touch them?”

His shocked expression slowly faded and the corner of his lips slowly tugged upwards, “Never thought of you as the eager type.”

“Hawks, I swear to god-”

“At least try to buy me dinner first-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you hormonal rooster.” you bite back but immediately realized that you probably shouldn’t act so aggressive when you were asking for a favour and unknowingly whined, “it’s just, it looks so soft and I never really thought of it and I’m so hyperaware of everything right now that I just want to know what it feels like.”

Hawks fell silent for a moment. In all honesty, he had always been very iffy about anyone making contact to his wings. It was an important tool to his survival, not to mention extremely sensitive. But you looked so tired and beaten up that he just didn’t have the heart to reject you.

Hawks carefully extended his left wing to you and the way you perked up just a little made his heart swell. You leaned forward and lightly stoked a finger along the most outward feather of his wingtip. Chills shot down his spine as you felt the red feather gently and he had to physically restraint himself from shivering under you touch. Hawks was shocked when he almost let out a disappointed sigh as you pulled back, he didn’t even realize how much he enjoyed the gentle affection you were giving him.

You had seen him in action in news broadcast many times before and it amazed you how the razor sharp feathers he often used in fights felt like silk under the pad of your finger. You felt content for a split second before the thought of your untouched work slowly shadowed you short happiness once again.

“Did that help?” he tentatively asked and his heart sank as you let out a sigh.

“No,” you groaned, feeling bad that he let you invade his personal space just to help you but it didn’t work, “I’m starting to feel like I’m washing my entire career down the drain at this rate.”

It pained him to see his usually witty and sharp-tongued friend in this state. Hawks looked around to see if there’s anything he could do for you when the golden glow of the late afternoon sun gave him an idea.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you asked as the man grabbed you by your forearm and started pulling you up from your slumping position.

“I’m taking you somewhere.”

You were confused but his serious demeanor showed you that he was genuinely trying to help, “At least let me pack my things first.”

“Leave it here.” he said as he pulled you with him, completely clueless as to where you were going.

“You must be kidding me...” you said, now standing on the rooftop of a random building Hawks dragged you to.

“Do you trust me?”

“No offense but no.”

“And here I thought we’re getting somewhere,” he sighed before looking at you and the determined look in his eyes shut down all your attempts at protesting, “I promise this’ll help, just trust me for once.”

You felt your breath hitched in your throat at the way he looked so intensely at you, almost pleading in a way and it made your heart soft. Letting out a defeated sigh, you stepped closer to him and wrapped your arm around his neck. He locked his arm tightly around your waist and you could feel the heat radiating off his body at the close proximity.

“If you let go of me at any given moment, I swear I’ll turn you into a chicken casserole and eat it for dinner.”

“That’s my snarky little literary giant.” he grinned before taking off and you held on tightly to him. Almost burying your face in the crook of his neck, partly in fear of slipping down, but mostly to hide the faint blush on your face.

Hawks kept his promise and held you securely around your waist throughout the whole flight. Your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline of being so high up the sky but also because his face was merely millimeters away from yours. Feeling a bit more comfortable with the height after a while, you relaxed your neck and felt chilling wind on your face. You peered down to see that big city reduced to miniatures below you. It was a sight to witness.

“Not as bad as you thought, right?” his smooth voice rang from just above your eye and you felt your cheeks heat up, letting out nothing but a soft hum in response.

“We’re here.” Hawks gently put you down and you leaped onto the soft grass. You looked around to see that you were on a hilltop away from the central city. Turning around, you were immediately speechless.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, almost a bit nervous at your lack of response and he wasn’t even sure why he was so jittery.

The sun was sinking down, giving off an almost golden glow. You could see the skyline of the city from where you were at, the clear windows of the compacted buildings glistening from under the sunshine. The sound of cars speeding on the highway mixed with the occasional breeze from the soft wind eased the knot in your head, the fresh smell of grass made you sigh in content. You watched from afar as the entire city basked under the sunlight, emitting a soft radiance. It was majestic.

You gasped, “This is...”

“I always come here when I feel like I can’t keep going,” he said, “this sight never fails to lift me back up.”

You chocked out a gasp in awe, “It’s beautiful.”

You were looking at the sky, but he was looking at you. “It is.” Hawks whispered.

And even for just a short while, the sight and the comforting presence of him made you feel so much better.

You felt great. It had been a long while since you were last so inspired as you type away on your keyboard, not stopping except for the few times you paused to take sips of your coffee.

You looked at the words on the screen and hummed in satisfaction, pulling your shoulders back to relax the tensed muscles. You couldn’t wait to tell Hawks that it worked and you were making amazing progress.

Speaking of Hawks, where was that dumb bird anyways? He usually shows up around this hour but he was nowhere to be seen.

You looked around to see if you could find any sight of the familiar red feathers anywhere but stopped as you heard the chattering from the group of women sitting from a few tables away.

“Oh my god, have you seen the news? Absolutely horrifying!”

“I know right? It must be a really tough fight, Hawks was always so quick to capture a villain!”

You got immediately alerted at the mention of your friend. Your mind started racing, she said ‘horrifying’.

“Haven’t you heard? His agency put out a statement this morning saying that he had to take a break from work just to recover, that poor thing!”

You felt heat retreating from your face and your senses going numb. Slightly panicking, you rummaged through your bag for your phone and immediately went onto the news site once you got hold of it. Your eyes widened and you clasped your hand on your mouth at the gory photo attached to the article. You could not began to describe the twisting in your stomach when you saw the usually cheery hero being so beaten up, his glorious wings you tenderly stroked not so long ago now left with nothing but the long, thin bone of its main structure.

It hurt.

It hurt to see him like that and you hated how there’s nothing you could do for him when he went out of his way to help you when you were in need. That’s when you noticed the paper bag you brought with you out of habit. Quickly shoving everything on the table into your bag and threw it across your shoulder, you clutched the handle of the paper bag tightly in your hand, wondering if it would work if you just wished harder.

Hawks groaned as he twisted on his sofa. He had been forced to stay home after that particularly gruesome fight to allow both the injuries on his body and his abused wings to recover. To say that he was bored out of his mind would be an understatement. Flicking from channel to channel mindlessly, he sighed at how there’s nothing that could entertain him.

He wondered what you would say if you had saw him lying there like a dead fish, probably something along the lines of him acting like a slab of ‘dry, flavourless chicken breast’. He chuckled at the thought of your usual snarky attitude and felt even lonelier when he was once again reminded that he was confined in the concrete walls of his apartment, with no one but himself.

He almost flung himself at the door when he heard the bell rang, wincing in pain as he had forgotten about the main reason why he was on what he felt like house arrest.

Hawks opened the door to see his sidekick. “Morning Mr Hawks, feeling better?”

“Physically yes but I’m going to combust if I had to stay in any longer.”

The sidekick gave his boss a nervous chuckle, he had been working for the hero for long enough to know how on edge he could be when he was put out of action for too long. “Just for a little longer, the agency needs to make sure that you’ve recovered completely before letting you get back to work,” his sidekick quickly added upon seeing how Hawks’ face dropped, “actually, I’m here to bring you this.”

Hawks watched as his sidekick pulled out a paper bag that almost looked too familiar. “Someone gave this to me at the agency and asked me to bring it to you, must be some sort of fan gift.”

Bidding his sidekick goodbye, he quickly locked the door and opened the bag that felt quite heavy when he was holding it in his hands. Prying the bag open, his heart soared as he looked inside to find it filled up to the brim with paper cranes.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you actually typing instead of folding cranes.”

“Hawks!” you immediately looked up when you heard his voice and the bright smile on your face that was in place of the usual sneer made his heart flutter, “You’re alive!”

You rested your chin on your palm as you watched him sat down. You would never tell him but it almost felt wrong to have the table all to your own for the past week.

“Gladly, I nearly died out of boredom,” you snickered and god, did he miss that sound, “thanks for the cranes. I had them put on a string and hanged in my office just so you know, really added some life to that place.”

You smiled, happy to know that your thoughts were properly delivered. He teasingly asked, “Thought you were hell-bent on never separating from your children?”

You shook your hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Nah, I figured you need it more than I do.”

Hawks raised his brow, “How’s that so?”

You chuckled nervously, pondering if you should tell him what it meant. Not knowing that he was well aware of the meaning behind the one thousand paper cranes you gave him, he just wanted to hear you say it out loud so badly.

“It means to wish for peace and health,” you wondered why you were suddenly so reserved when you spent most time with this man making fun of each other, “I just thought you would need extra of both of those.”

Hawks smirked. You were hiding the rest of the meaning deliberately and he was determined to get you to admit it.

“It only works when you do it for someone you really care for,” he said and he felt the pounding in his chest, “you care for me.”

He could see the blush forming on you face and it filled him with an unexplainable feeling of joy. “I never said I don’t.” you said with a smirk of your own, trying to brush away your sudden shyness.

“We both know it doesn’t work like that.” he tried to fake the confidence in his voice but deep inside, he was anxious to see your reaction to what he wanted to say.

“You like me.” that last part came out in a whisper but you could hear it clearly. Despite it having nothing but thin pin feathers, he could feel them stood up on his back in pure excitement as you didn’t object. His face almost hurt from smiling as he caught sight of the sheepish smile on your reddened face as you lowered your head to avoid his gaze.

“Does that mean I’m the father to your paper children now?”

“Don’t push it...”

He gasped, “We’re gonna make such beautiful crane babies-”

“Don’t push it,” you glared at him and quickly put on a smirk as you regained your usual composure, “besides, salmonella-ridden raw chickens can’t give birth to cranes.”

“That’s low,” Hawks put a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt, “even for you.”

You could not control your laughter as he continued to say that you wounded his ego.

Oh, how you adored this bird boi.

Bonus

“Wait, where are you supposed to put this flap?”

“Just tug it underneath the other part.”

“What? But how do you make it into that shape?”

“You... Nevermind, having one artistic person is enough in a relationship.”

“No, you’re not leaving until you teach me how to make this stupid thing.”

“Don’t go insulting our children when it is clearly your lack of talent. Here, take this, it’s you in origami form. I made it while you were struggling.”

“..."

“...”

“It’s just a regular crane with two legs.”

“Exactly.”

(And here’s the tutorial that nobody asked for but I wanted to put in anyways so y’all can join in and make beautiful crane babies of your own)

[lavendersoft]

Until I met you.

-Street fighter!Jimin x Reader

1/?

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi won’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training, as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest, until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: super slow burn :/ basically, in which jimin copes with the traumatic incident of his fiancé’s brutal murder by street fighting. this story isn’t yandere but has dark themes.

The air was lifted right out of Jimin’s lungs. Tears were flowing freely, his hands were stained red, he couldn’t even see the golden engagement ring through the thick blood. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own sobs and heartbreak.

“Please... please stay awake. They’re coming, okay? Help’s coming. Just look at me. Look at me, please.”

He’d remembered somewhere that you were supposed to put pressure on wounds this big to stop the bleeding. If only his hands could stop shaking.

Yoongi had stopped responding about two minutes prior to this but Jimin refused to accept his fate. His last words replaying in Jimin’s mind like a mantra.

“Survive. Please, live. I love you.”

Two wallets.

Two fucking wallets with about 150,000 won split between them.

That’s how much his fiancé was murdered for.

Jimin jerks awake in a cold sweat. His bruised fist clamped around his bedsheets, heart rate much higher than it should be. He rises out of the creaking bed to stretch his overly tense muscles.

He can still feel the weight of his deceased boyfriend’s limp body in his arms.

Every day starts like this.

Every morning he’s pulled from the same reoccurring nightmare, then he starts his cold shower.

He can’t even take warm showers anymore, remembering how hot Yoongi insisted on keeping the water temperature when they showered together.

It’s been nine months.

Nine months, two weeks and four days since he lost the love of his life forever.

He hasn’t even taken off the engagement ring. It’s as if it’s glued to his finger now, his hand feels empty without it.

Jimin avoids looking in the mirror at all costs. In fact, he’s gotten rid of most of them in his home. The ones he couldn’t get rid of, he smashed with his bare hands in a fit of rage. The scars on his hands are proof.

How could he look at himself knowing how weak he was?

He scoffs.

Back then... how could I bare to tolerate myself back then? I was so flimsy and weak. Could barely open a fucking jar by myself. Absolutely pathetic.

Jimin’s heart has gotten callous. He is easily provoked and irrational. The takes unnecessary risks and is impulsive.

His therapist said it was “self-sabotage” or something.

Just two weeks ago, Jimin bleached his hair a striking blond, almost white- which burned most of his scalp- just because. And before that, on the nine-month anniversary of his lover’s passing, he went to get a tattoo on a whim. Just because he felt like it. He drinks alcohol for breakfast and has recently taken up smoking. The smell of cigarettes remind him of Yoongi, who also used to smoke.

Jimin liked pain. It was invigorating. He likes feeling things. Feeling has become a rarity, a privilege, a novelty.

Although irritable and easily angered, Jimin is not an unkind person. He gives to charity and volunteers at animal shelters. These things have also made him feel again, because he can feel Yoongi there, the real Yoongi. Yoongi was a huge advocate for human kindness. He used to say it was never justifiable to be a hateful person for no reason at all.

Jimin clings to this principal.

But it’s hard. It’s so hard to act happy when he’s so broken inside. He almost wishes he could just-

“Don’t you dare use me as an excuse to be a miserable person.” Yoongi’s voice rings out from behind him. Jimin screws his eyes shut and covers his ears.

“Go away.”

This person- this being- wasn’t Yoongi, that much he knew. If anything, it was a demon. A poltergeist that feeds off Jimin’s suffering. Yoongi would never do that.

This is why everyone around Jimin thinks he’s the sweetest, loveliest, most endearing man they’ve ever met. If only they knew about the unyielding hellfire that burns his very core.

“Good morning, Mrs. Jeon!” Jimin’s sweet voice cuts through the morning air.

He was on his way to his best friend Jungkook’s house to meet before Tae Kwon Do training. The Jeon family owns a martial arts studio and they’ve been training together for months now.

“Oh, good morning Jimin! How are you today?” The nice woman is always so cheerful, Jimin respects that.

“I’m wonderful, thank you. Have you heard from Jungkook? He’s supposed to meet me here.” Jimin hurry’s to catch up with the woman in front of him and takes her groceries off of her arms to carry.

“Yes, actually. He was running a tad late this morning since his class ended late. He should be here soon. Would you mind bringing those up for me?” She gestured to the apartment right above the studio, where the family lives.

“Not at all.”

When Jungkook finally arrives, he brings with him thirty-two excuses as to why he was late.

“I lost my phone.”

“My car ran out of gas.”

“My girlfriend broke up with me.”

Jimin chuckles as he suits up his training gear.

“Dude, if all of those things are true, you really need to get your life together.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Jimin’s heart stops when the cold, low growl sounds from behind him again.

“You’re far from qualified to be giving life advice.”

Jimin hides his frown when the oblivious Jungkook punches him on the shoulder playfully.

“Haha! Shut up, dude! Let’s go.” He chides, padding off to the ring.

Jimin’s falters a bit behind, throwing a quick but cautious glance at the bloody image of Yoongi that glares back at him.

“Pathetic.”

“Seriously, dude! You’re way too talented at this to not make some money off of it.”

Jungkook’s been trying to get Jimin to take the scholarship he was offered by a scout that visited their studio not too long ago.

“I don’t know, man. This was just supposed to be a hobby remember?”

Jimin knew better. This was much more than a hobby. It was his anchor. It was his stress reliever. It was keeping him sane.

“Come on. We both know better than that. I see the way your face changes to stone when you fight. You have something. Something real. You could make it in the business!”

“You sound like a mafia boss.”

Jimin smiles as he eats the last of his ramen.

“Ya. I’m serious. If not a professional fighter then at least a coach. I mean, I’m doing it because I wanna be a cop but,” Jungkook sips from his energy drink. “Do you really just want to be a dancer?”

Jimin sighs. Yes. That was his dream before everything happened. He still clings to the idea. Before nine months ago, the idea had seemed just within reach. He’d applied for so many dance and art schools, even getting into a couple.

But after everything, he’d given up. He stopped dancing. He hates music. Even if he tried, his skills wouldn’t be anywhere near the place they were.

He’d totally abandoned his dream.

“Yes. I do.” He lies.

Jungkook shrugs, “Well, if anything, it’s made you a better fighter. Your moves are so fluid, it’s amazing.”

“Careful, you’re getting a crush.” Jimin jabs at him with a chopstick.

“Ugh. Please,” the younger rolls his eyes, “like I could ever. Plus, my girlfriend probably wouldn’t like that very much.”

“Oh? I thought you two ‘broke up’, no?”

“Nah. I love her too much.” Jimin finds it cute that Jungkook actually loves his girlfriend. Before, he was a player, only using girls for sex or free food.

“Don’t use girls like toys, Jungkook.” Yoongi would always keep Jungkook in place when he broke another heart.

“Well, this ones on you. Since you lost. Again.” Jimin’s giggle makes Jungkook pout.

“One of these days, I’m gonna beat you, Park Jimin.” Jungkook pouts.

“One of these days.” Jimin reiterates.

Jimin says goodbye to his friend and pushes through the restaurant door. He misses the worried look Jungkook gives him when he turns his back.

The raindrops hit the top of the hood of Jimin’s jacket as he walks down the busy street. He hates being too alone these days. Jungkook really helps keep Jimin grounded, he’s one of the only people that don’t totally annoy him now. He reminds Jimin of all the times Yoongi, Jungkook, Tae, Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, and himself would hang out as teens and young adults. Just fooling around without any worry. No cares or responsibilities, young love, parties. That was their lives.

Until nine months ago.

The grief of losing one of the group was detrimental. It seemed like no one was recovering properly, except maybe Jungkook. That’s why Jimin cohered himself to Jungkook, he seemed to be the most stable out of them all.

Namjoon and Tae both landed themselves in jail on multiple occasions for a plethora of reasons.

Hoseok checked himself into a mental asylum for a while. Last Jimin heard, he was abusing drugs of some sort.

And Jin moved across the country, said he wanted to start fresh. But really, he was just doing what Jin did best- running away.

None of them kept contact, except for Jungkook.

The entire carefree, wild group of friends had dissipated into nothing.

He feels his eyebrows furrow into a stern look.

They all left.

They all left.

“They all left you.” His jaw clenches at the familiar, yet slightly inhuman voice. “They never cared about you. And Jungkook will leave you one day, too. No one is forever.”

Jimin’s turns down an alleyway and stops about halfway through, tears gathered in his eyes.

“No one is forever, but at least they keep moving forward. You’re just stuck.”

Yeah, Jimin truly hates being alone.

The not-so-subtle red neon sign flickers with the bright name of the “club.”

The large metal door makes a shallow sound when Jimin’s taps on it three times. A man wearing all black with sunglasses answers, “Passwo- oh, Jimin-ah. Come on in.”

Jimin nods once to the tall bodyguard as he passes him. The man towers over Jimin in height but the energy around the two doesn’t match. The man takes a small, nervous step back when Jimin starts forward.

Jimin hates how skittish everyone is in this little hole in the wall.

The biggest underground fighting ring in Korea was right next door to Jimin’s apartment, who would have thought. How convenient.

Heads bow as he passes. No one makes eye contact. Some mumble respectful greetings while putting honorifics next to his name, no matter what age or status they have.

He’s basically a king here.

But he doesn’t want the throne.

Jimin’s peers into the crowd and sure enough, sights his dead lover. He just wants this damn demon to leave him alone.

Yoongi never bothers him while he’s fighting or training. It’s like he goes dormant or something. That’s why Jimin keeps doing it. Well, that and because he wants to be strong. Stronger than he’s ever been.

And he is. He’s undefeated in this hellhole. He sort of blanks out when he fights anyone that’s not Jungkook. That’s how he earned the appropriate nickname “Demon”, for good reason. He’s heard from others that’s he’s terrifying when he’s in the ring. Although no one but his manager and couple other higher-ups dare to call him that, and he barely even tolerates that.

The last newcomer that called him that learned through a crushed windpipe to not.

He only does this to pay the bills. Everyone here knows that. It pisses some people off. For some, this was their entire life, what they were raised to do. Born to be fighting machines.

So, naturally, some don’t like Jimin. Especially those who he’s fought and won against. But Jimin couldn’t care less about what these people think about him.

“Manager-nim,” Jimin addresses an older man, somewhere in his forties, “I need you to schedule another Gold for me.”

See, the underground business is one built on ranking.

In the underground street fighting business, fights were categorized by prize earning and rank of the fighters. Gold rank fights could only be scheduled by- and usually for- the highest members, the Elites. The grand prize for a win was seven hundred million won. Only the greatest of the greatest won the prize and thus, earning an elite status (if not an elite already).

Jimin’s won it twice.

“Ya, getting pretty greedy now, are we? You just won it a couple months ago, Kid. Where’d that money go?”

“It’s gone.”

The suited man scoffs, “You need a better budgeting plan, Demon.” Jimin fights the urge to uppercut him.

“Can you do it or not?” Jimin’s patience is already wearing thin and he’s been here for a whole five minutes.

“You know, contrary to what you might believe, I’m not a money machine. The money you win when you fight comes from somewhere. Not only that, I’m not the only Elite that gets to decide. We take a vote.”

“Well vote.”

“Aish.” He growls, “You’re something else. People here are gonna start to think I favor you, and that’s dangerous for the both of us.” He pauses to look Jimin in the eyes, “You know, you have all of the qualifications to make the Elite status. Why don't you do the initiation-”

“Let me know when you have an answer.” Jimin’s made his feelings on the subject clear already. He has no intention of making this a permanent thing. This isn't a lifestyle, this isn't his job. It’s just a way to relieve his stress and make some cash.

With that, Jimin takes his leave, disappearing into the same direction from which he came. He’s truly a mysterious phenomenon.

Jungkook: hey do u wanna meet me and Jiyoo tonight for dinner?

Jimin peers down at his phone in confusion.

Jimin: uh third-wheeling really isn’t my thing lol

Jungkook: no, no we have someone we want you to meet. she’s Jiyoo’s sister and she’s just come home from college.

Jimin groans. This isn’t the first time Jungkook’s tried to set him up since Yoongi passed. He appreciates the sentiment but Jimin doesn’t think he’ll ever love someone like that again. It’s too much to ask for.

Jimin: idk man i’m pretty tired from training today. i think i’m gonna pass.

Jungkook: pretty please?

Ugh.

Jimin shoves a pillow over his face in frustration. He’s never been able to tell the kid no. And besides that- Jimin can feel the beady eyes of the shadowy figure in the corner. No, he doesn’t really want to stay here.

Jimin: fine.

—

The restaurant is filled with all sorts of people. From children to the elderly. Jimin gazes from person to person trying to decipher what kind of person they are. He tries to hinder the negative thoughts from entering his mind about them. 

Jungkook’s always late. Always. When Jungkook says “5:30” he really means “6:00.” You’d think after almost a decade of knowing the kid, Jimin would learn.

He fidgets with the sleeves of his sweater. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? Was it because these blind dates never end well? He thinks back to the last blind date Jungkook had set him up with.

Jimin shudders.

He can still hear the innocent girl’s cries as she fled his apartment, heartbroken.

He’s pulled from his thoughts as an arm slings around his shoulder, “Hey, man.”

Jungkook’s bright smile beams at him.

“Hey. Hi, Jiyoo.” He greets the couple as they take their seats.

“Hey, Jiminie.” Jungkook’s girlfriend was super cute, he’ll give her that.

“So..?” He’s confused time see that they came alone.

“Oh, she’s coming. My little sister is always a little late.”

Later than you both?

Jimin stops himself from the bitterness that threatens to erupt again. Not tonight. He’s going to try to be on his best behavior for his friend’s sake.

He’ll save all those pent up emotions for the fight he has scheduled tomorrow.

He vaguely registers the figure that makes its way into his peripheral vision, although he pays it no mind at first.

“Oh, Y/n! It’s good to see you again.” Jungkook seems a bit overly excited. What’s all the fuss about? It’s not like-

Oh.

Oh.

Okay, so she’s, like, really pretty. So what?

“Hi, Jungkook. Nice to see you. Jiyoo!” The girl walks over to embrace her sister tightly, “Oh my God, it feels like it’s been forever.”

After they take their greetings, the woman sits down across from Jimin.

“Hello, you must be Jimin. Jungkook’s told me so much about you. I’m Y/n.”

Okay, so she has the voice of an angel, big deal.

“Um, hi- yeah, I’m Jimin.” He reaches out to take the hand she offers.

“So, Y/n’s a dancer,” Jungkook starts when the food is placed in front of them, “and she’s really good.”

“Not that good.” She blushes.

“Don’t be modest, Y/n. She’s going to a really prestigious dance school on a full scholarship!” Her sister beams.

“Oh? Which one?” Jimin presses. It’s not like he’s interested or anything. Definitely not.

“Global. Global Dance Studio.” She answers.

“Ah. I heard they were good.” Jimin knows more than he let on. That was literally his dream school.

“Yeah, but strict. The training is brutal.” She emphasizes. He knows, he had to go through the same treatment. He hates that he feels a pang of jealousy and resentment towards this person he’s just met.

“I’ve heard.” He finishes as he takes the first bite of his food.

The rest of the hour-long dinner was pretty boring, with Jiyoo and Jungkook mostly taking ahold of the conversation. Although, Jimin will admit that he couldn’t stop glancing back at the beautiful girl across from him.

And he won’t pretend that he didn’t notice her treating him the same.

He was charming and kind, as usual, but he remained on the quiet side of the conversation. Jimin knew that Jungkook could tell he wasn’t being quite as flirty as he usually is with setups like this, from the way that the younger kept trying to tie Jimin in the chit chat.

Jimin stays subtle for the rest of the date.

When the group says their goodbyes, his eyes linger on hers for longer than the rest.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/n.”

“Likewise.” She grins and Jimin feels his heart stop.

And then he leaves. Really, really fast.

That’s not good.

—

[thechildoflightning]

The Kübler-Ross Model Ch 1- Denial

Title: The Kübler-Ross Model [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: background LAMP

~~~

Chapter Title: Denial- Chapter One

Summary: 

Stage One: Denial- Characterized by a refusal to accept reality in order to protect against pain of it.

In which Remy avoids confronting his feelings.

Warnings: PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Social Dysphoria, Accidental Misgendering

[ao3 link]

Denial- Chapter One

“Selected: Voicemail. One item. Tab one of one,” Remy’s phone says, a touch too cheerfully. Remy sighs, already slightly suspicious of who it’s from. He puts his finger to the screen, sliding it around as he searches for the desired section.

“Voicemail.”

One finger down.

“Daniel Zurko. M-”

Double tap.

“Hey Remy. I don’t know- I don't know what you were thinking. Flying off to Florida like that- Remy you can’t do that that’s- you could have been hurt and you can’t just- You can’t do that, okay Remy? I don’t know what’s going I on. I know you and Logan are close and I can only guess you went to him but… We gotta talk about these things, okay? It’s fine this time though, not a big deal. Let’s get you home, I’m worried. It’s- you can’t handle yourself Remy and I worry about you being by yourself. I know you’re 18 but Remy you have to understand there’s things you just aren’t capable of. I-,” a sigh, “Just, call me okay? Let’s get you home, we can talk then. I love you Remy. Call me.”

-

Things are fine.

Remy has been staying with Virgil, Logan, and their boyfriends for a few days now, and things are still very new, but Remy is adjusting just fine.

Everything is great.

His dad keeps calling him which is sorta annoying, but it’s easy enough to deny the calls. In fact, he doesn’t just deny them but ignores them completely, pushing them to the back of his mind to not be thought about at all. So far the plan seems to be working. Not answering calls means he doesn’t have to talk to his dad and ignoring them completely means that Remy doesn’t have to worry about them.

It’s a foolproof plan, denying the gravity of his situation.

And really, he isn’t denying anything. This whole spontaneous ‘run away until I can go to college thing’ isn’t that big of a deal. It’s only for a few months anyways. Then, he’ll go to college and everything will calm down. It’ll be fine. Everything would be fine.

Remy doesn’t feel fine.

See, the downside of running away and going to live with your cousin, friend, and their boyfriends is that Remy’s life has no structure. Sure, he's starting to build some for himself. He takes Cha-Cha for walks, stops by Starbucks, but he still has a lot of downtime.

And downtime means a lot of time to ruminate.

Remy thinks about things a lot. Mostly things he doesn’t want to think about. Like the fact that he had just traveled across the country with zero support from his father. Like the fact that he ran away and is refusing to talk to his father because Remy hit a breaking point and he just can’t do this anymore. Like the fact that he knows he’s way in over his head except that he has no idea what to do about that so he’s just bullshitting his way through all of this. Like the fact that everything’s pressing around him and sometimes it makes it hard to breathe and-

He needs to get out of his head.

He knows he does. He does. He just doesn't know how.

“Lot on your mind?” Virgil asks.

“Hmm?” Remy responds, pulling his attention back to Virgil. “Oh. I dunno. No.”

“Right,” Virgil says and Remy knows that Virgil doesn't believe him at all.

Remy huffs and shrugs.

“I mean, I dunno? I guess. But I’m fine. I just-” he trails off. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ a voice in him internally screams, but he isn't dealing with that shit so he shoves it somewhere deep inside of him.

“Just?” Virgil asks, carrying the word, because of course Virgil won’t let him get away with anything.

“I- uh I get my roommate or roommates today,” Remy says in place of actually answering with what he maybe should.

Virgil doesn’t speak for a moment and Remy thinks that maybe he really is going to be forced to share.

“Yeah?” he says after a minute.

Remy doesn’t sigh in relief, but it’s close.

“Yeah,” Remy agrees.

“Still have no clue why you decided to do that. You do realize how easy it would be for you to get a single right?”

Remy does, and he’d rather die than be put in a single. Even if his roommate is a complete asshole, the minimum social interaction from their conversations has to be better than being completely alone. Anything would be better than being alone. Remy hates being alone.

He’s always been alone.

He doesn’t think he’s ever going to stop being alone.

“I know. I wanted to. Come on, roommates are like the college experience.”

Virgil breathes out huffed laughter.

“Okay,” he says, voice full of mirth, “I mean I’m of the personal opinion that roommates suck but-”

“No you’re not-” new voice joins in, startling Remy a bit. It’s Patton or Roman but he can’t differentiate their voices super well yet. Getting there but he’s definitely not at the point where he can identify them based on three words.

“Uh yes, sharing a room with you was the worst experience of my life,” Virgil responds.

Past tense. It’s Roman then.

“Two things. One, we currently share a room so that’s bullshit. Two, you were the first to even agree with the idea,” Roman argues.

A dark shape enters Remy’s limited field of vision, backlit from the light coming through the window. A moment later, Roman disappears as he traveled away from the light source and presumably towards Virgil.

“I remember conditionally agreeing,” Virgil barters back, “And I was the first to agree because you asked me first. If you think about it, I actually took the most time to agree to the idea even if I technically answered first.”

“Eh, semantics,” Roman brushes off, “Anyways you like me to much to get rid of me.”

Virgil grumbles but doesn’t deny it.

“So what’s this about roommates?” Roman asks.

A chair scrapes against the floor as he takes a seat next to Virgil at the table.

“I get my roommate or roommates today,” Remy explains.

“And I was saying that he should have gotten a single.”

Remy would’ve hated a single. He’s just hoping whoever he rooms with isn’t going to be a complete asshole.

“Oh come on, roommates are fun.”

“If they’re anything like you were- no they are not.”

“Oh! Hey! Speaking of single rooms, Remy did Virgil ever tell you how Patton and him met?” Roman’s voice gains an eager tone, humor hanging behind it.

Remy rolls his eyes because he knows exactly where this conversation is going.

“Roman,” Virgil warns.

“You see, what happens when you have a single is that you have no one to let you inside if you lock yourself out,” Roman starts.

“Hey Remy, did I ever tell you about the time that Roman gave himself a concussion and a bloody nose because he fell off his desk?” Virgil quickly interrupts.

“Okay no- that’s not fair. I was trying to make my point. It’s your fault I fell off that desk.” Roman bickers back.

Virgil forms his rebuttal and the two of them go at it, hashing out an argument they’ve had probably a billion times.

Remy has in fact heard both of these stories numerous times, as they seem to be Roman and Virgil’s favorite pieces of playful ammunition at one other. With the two distracted, Remy slips away to check his email.

The roommate assignment hasn’t come. He sighs, and reloads it. Nothing. He sighs, and reloads it again, ‘cause he’s got nothing better to do.

He blinks in surprise when his phone reports that he actually has just gotten an email from the university. Remy lets the screen read the information to him, quickly speeding through the parts that seem unimportant. He eventually finds a name, just one of them.

Kai Jacobson.

Okay, one roommate. Remy can work with that. He thinks about reaching out, getting in touch, getting to know whoever this “Kai” is. But Remy literally got this email five minutes ago and that seems a bit stalkerish so he decides to wait a bit.

He holds off until after dinner and then emails his mysterious new roommate, eager to get to know him. Now that he actually has a roommate college is starting to seem more and more like a reality. Something thrums softly inside of Remy, and he thinks it’s maybe relief.

Kai doesn’t respond that night, but he has an email that evening and a phone number. They switch to texting.

-

It’s Logan that finds him a week later, sprawled casually across the sofa, earbud in his ear as he listens to Kai’s last text before responding. Cha-Cha was at his feet a moment ago, though the last time he leaned his foot down to brush against her fur, she wasn’t there.

He’s on his phone in the first place because his Dad called and he ignored it once more. After, his mind kept buzzing, so he opened up his texts and reached out to Kai, hoping for a quick response and a distraction. He doesn’t want to talk to his dad, doesn’t want to ruminate in what Remy has done. But Kai came through, replying to his text quickly. They’d been talking for awhile now and Remy has barely thought about his dad at all.

The text finishes reading itself and Remy holds down the mic on his headphones, eager to reply when a voice interrupts him.

“What are you doing?” Logan asks.

Remy pulls his attention away from his phone.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he snarks back.

Logan moves.

“I’m not sure,” he admits, as he comes closer.

“Talking to Kai,” Remy says, giving a real answer.

“Oh. Uh, who’s Kai?”

“A friend.”

“You have friends?”

The corner of Remy’s mouth twitches at the comment, not quite giving way to humor, but close.

“Sorry,” Logan immediately apologizes when he doesn’t respond. “Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t- I meant- I- I think that maybe sounded wrong. I’m trying to say-”

Remy let’s Logan flounder for words for a bit, giving him the opportunity to speak and clarify, but when nothing comes from it and Logan just seems to be angry with himself, Remy jumps in.

“You’re good Lo, you don’t need to apologize. Admittedly- don’t quite know what you’re trying to ask if your question isn’t ‘do you have friends’ but if that is your question, I don’t mind it and the answer to it is yes, yes I do have friends.”

Remy does. Most of them are from home but he hasn’t talked to any of them since he got here. He’s gotten a few texts and the group chat he’s in still carries on with spamming him constantly. (It’d probably be annoying if he didn’t constantly have it on mute). And it’s- his friends are good people. He just... doesn’t know what to say.

He hasn’t even worked up the courage to text them, and he feels pretty guilty about that because they probably have no clue what happened to him. They were going to go out to the movies a few days ago and if they hadn’t been concerned then, they certainly are now. Remy knows that. But he still doesn’t talk to them.

What do you say after you make an instinctual decision to fly across the country three months earlier than planned with no explanation or goodbye? What do you say when you run away from home and, sure, you’re an adult but you have no fucking clue what you’re doing and something deep inside of you hurts and you’re scared and lost and alone and you don’t know how to deal with that, how to even begin addressing that?

Luckily, Remy doesn’t get to ponder those distressing thoughts any further, because Logan speaks up.

“I meant-” Logan tries after a moment, but he just cuts himself again with another sigh. He takes a seat on the couch, leg pressing into Remy’s feet. Considering Logan’s the one that initiated the physical touch, Remy throws his feet onto Logan’s lap. One of Logan’s legs bounces as he continues to ponder his question.

“Y’know it’s fine if you did just want to ask if I had a friend or not,” Remy said. He can’t tell with Logan sometimes- when Logan regrets saying something because he realizes it’s maybe not considered ‘socially appropriate’ or when Logan regrets saying something because it’s not quite what he meant and he’s not getting his point across.

“No, no,” Logan says. His leg bounces faster. “I meant more- you have friends as in I’m interested in them? Tell me about them. Who are you talking to?”

“Kai,” Remy says.

“Who’s that?”

“My roommate.”

“You got your roommate? And just one? And you’re hearing this late? What about priority?”

“Mhmm,” Remy agrees, “I signed up for the gender-inclusive dorming which is why I didn’t have priority. I think I maybe told you that. But yeah- the freshman dorms are generally less roommates because they’re tiny apparently.”

“Oh. Yes. I remember that now. Patton’s dorm was very small.”

“Yeah. So it’ll be just the two of us.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Remy shrugs.

“Dunno yet,” he admits, “Kai seems pretty cool though. They actually live locally so we’re planning to meet up. And that should be nice- getting to know them a bit before I meet them.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

“Yeah. They were very disappointed when I admitted that I didn’t play any video games. Joking disappointed,” Remy amends so Logan is aware that it wasn’t a real issue, “Or well- he was a bit disappointed but short-term it's not really a big deal disappointed. But I sated him with picture of Cha-Cha.”

He recalls the conversation fondly. Maybe he should talk to some of his friends back him if this minimal interaction between him and a practical stranger gets him this hyped up. Remy’s always been an extrovert. People around him- good people, friends- have always had a recharging effect on him. He’s been lonely without them.

Or he would be lonely. But he’s not. Because he’s fine.

Remy pushes those thoughts away.

“Oh! And give me a second,” Remy pulls his phone back out, searches for the pictures that have been sent. “Kai said that Cha-Cha was yawning in one of them and that it’s very cute, look.”

Logan takes the phone from him. He struggles with the voice commands for a moment.

“Double tap,” Remy reminds, when the same description is being read off over and over again.

Logan gives a hum of acknowledgement.

“Very cute,” he observes after a moment, “I didn’t know she had spots on her tongue.”

As if summoned, Cha-Cha comes over from wherever she was, collar jingling slightly as she settles her head on Logan’s leg, panting ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah,” Remy says, “Totally forgot about those.” He directs his next sentences at his dog, “Yeah, Cha-Cha? You have little spots on your tongue?”

Cha-Cha doesn’t reply, but does shuffle over to Remy’s side, settling her snout under his arm and nudging him slightly.

“I know, I know, you want a walk we can go in a minute,” he promises. She noses him once more and then stops, presumably settling on the floor again. Remy reaches a hand to check absentmindedly, fingers curling into her fur.

“Phone,” Logan offers, finished looking at the pictures.

Remy lets go of Cha-Cha and extends his hand towards Logan. Logan presses the phone against his fingers and he grabs it, settling it on his chest.

“I’m going to take Cha-Cha for a walk,” he says. At the words, Cha-Cha shoots to her feet in and instant. “Wanna come?”

“Sure,” Logan agrees. Remy nods, and throws his feet off of Logan. The action causes his phone to fall of his chest and clatter to the ground. He makes a face and takes a minute to find it on the floor before standing and pocketing it.

He looks over at the nearest window, checking the light. It isn’t too bright outside, but it was raining earlier and Remy learned a long time ago that while the light flashing off of puddles was very pretty, it also hurt like hell and was generally very disorientating.

“Lemme grab sunglasses and we can go,” he says.

“Okay,” Logan agrees and Remy darts away.

A walk will be nice. Remy really needs to get out of his head.

-

There’s someone at the kitchen table.

Remy is not expecting there to be someone at the kitchen table.

“Uh, hey?” he offers.

He gets no response.

The whole gang’s supposed to be at work. No one’s supposed to be home right now.

“Remy?” a quiet voice asks, sounding completely and utterly terrified.

“Hey Virge, yeah it’s me. Mind if I sit?”

Virgil doesn’t respond. But his breathing is even, and he doesn’t seem to be hurt or anything, so Remy lets the worst of the worry leave him. He’s been friends with Virgil for years. He knows how to handle this.

“Okay. Well I’m going to keep making breakfast then,” he says after a moment, and continues into the kitchen. He throws a bagel in the toaster and pulls out what he’s pretty sure is jam. The contents catch in the light, which is a good sign, but Roman and Patton aren’t super great at putting things back in the same spot (though Remy knows they’re both trying) and it’s still a pretty unfamiliar kitchen to Remy.

He gets the jam- and it is jam- on his bagel and let’s Virgil know that he’s going to join him at the table.

He walks over slowly, waiting to see if Virgil gives any indication that he doesn’t want Remy coming near him. But he doesn’t really respond in any way so Remy takes a seat across from him.

“Hey Virgil, not a great day?”

It’s obvious that it isn’t, considering Virgil isn’t at work, but Remy still asks. He’s not really sure where Virgil’s at right now, but the question can’t hurt and should be an easy one for Virgil to answer.

“No,” Virgil confirms.

Remy nods, but he isn’t super happy about how short that answer was.

“I- Do you need help with grounding or anything?”

“No,” Virgil answers, “No I- I know I’m here. I know I’m in the kitchen. I- just- I’m really scared,” he admits.

“Okay,” Remy says, “Do you need or want anything from me?”

“No- I- it’s okay. I’m okay. I know I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

Virgil sighs roughly.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice seems a bit clearer, “Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m okay. I’m safe.”

“Alright then. Well I’m leaving a bit to meet up with Kai.”

Virgil knows that information, Remy and Kai had planned to meet-up two weeks ago. But, with Virgil where he was at now, Remy thinks the reminder can’t hurt. It’ll give Virgil time for him to be okay with Remy leaving the house.

“You’re leaving the house?”

The fear is obvious in Virgil’s tone, even as Remy knows he’s probably trying to hide it.

“Yeah,” Remy says, “In about an hour. Don’t really know how long we’ll stay.”

Be as specific as possible, Remy remembers. Give Virgil space to respond. Acknowledge his fears, validate. Don’t let those same fears control decision making. Adapt, adjust, but keep moving forward.

“Do you want me to drive you?” Virgil offers. His fingers drum on the table.

“I was planning on taking the bus,” Remy says. He’d spent and hour last night trying to figure out the times online. It had been a frustrating experience, but he thought he’d finally figured it out.

“Oh.”

Remy knows Virgil, so he speaks up once more.

“Do you want to drive me?”

Remy doesn’t know what’s going through Virgil’s head right now. But he’s obviously scared- scared enough he hasn’t gone to work today, hasn’t left the house. It’s because Virgil hasn't left the house, that Remy is surprised Virgil even offers to drive him, but Remy also understands that Virgil probably doesn’t want him somewhere he isn’t positive Remy’s going to be safe at. And right now, Remy doubts there’s many places Virgil’s considering safe.

It had taken a while for Remy not to feel offended. When they were younger, Remy was insistent on being independent even as more and more people took that away from him. When he had first met Virgil, Virgil had seemed to do the same thing, not wanting Remy to be alone, go out by himself, etc. And Remy had hated it.

They fought about a few times before finally talking about it. Remy shared that he felt that Virgil was stealing away his independence instead of letting Remy come to him when or if he needed support. Virgil had apologized and shared that it had nothing to do with Remy, it was Virgil, and it was trauma, and he was working on it but sometimes he just got so scared and had to make sure Remy was safe. He couldn’t let Remy get hurt.

Virgil had worked on those fears, that lingering trauma and Remy had worked on not taking it personally and giving Virgil extra reassurances.

“I-” Virgil attempts, and right, Virgil’s offering to drive him. “I want you to be safe. I don’t want to leave the house.”

“I’m going to be safe,” Remy promises, “Do you want me to give you the address? I can also text you when I get there and when I leave if you want.”

“I-” Virgil hesitates, “Can you?”

“For sure,” Remy confirms, “I’m going to go get ready now. You good?”

“Eh,” Virgil offers, and Remy’s willing to take that.

He slips away to take a shower and then get dressed.

It’s getting dressed that trips him up, and he’s not even sure why. He doesn’t really care if he looks nice or not, he’s just meeting his roommate for the first time. He genuinely doesn’t feel a need or desire to look a certain amount of presentable. It’s more- it’s more his body he thinks. How his clothes look on his body. He’s all sharp edges. He’s tall and thin and rectangular, and his clothes show that. And when Kai sees him, they’re going to think…

Kai’s going to think what?

Kai’s just going to think he’s a guy wearing clothes. That’s literally it. Remy knows that. He doesn’t think that Kai’s going to pass judgement on him for what he’s wearing or not. And they wouldn’t pass judgement on Remy’s body intentionally, Remy knows that. But they- what if they pass judgement on his body unintentionally?

And why does that even matter to Remy? His body’s fine. He’s- he knows it’s fine. He’s fine with it. He likes his body. But Kai’s going to think…

Kai’s going to think he’s a guy.

But that’s right isn’t it?

Remy’s heart pounds in his-their-her-xyr-eir his chest.

He takes a deep breath.

“You’re a guy,” he says out loud to himself. “Kai’s going to see you and they’re going to think you’re a guy, and they’re going to be right.”

Remy pushes everything else to the side, stops worrying about how he looks. (Or more- he starts ignoring the fact that he’s worried about how he looks and what that means) and he moves to leave the house. He wants to talk to Virgil again first, so he doesn’t have time to be worrying about anything so it’s fine.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

He.

“Virgil?” Remy calls when he’s back in the living room.

“Couch,” Virgil replies, “What’s up?”

“I’m headed out now.”

“I-” Virgil hesitates for just a second, “Okay.”

Remy knows how much strength it takes for Virgil to say that.

“Can I have the address?” he then asks.

“Yeah,” Remy says. He gives it to him, as well as which bus he’s taking, and promises to text him when he gets there and when he heads back.

“Okay, I gotta go,” Remy says eventually.

“Okay. Can-” Virgil cuts himself off. Remy waits. “Can I give you a hug?” Virgil eventually asks.

“Yeah,” Remy says, and then he’s being wrapped up in Virgil’s arms.

Virgil gives really good hugs. They’re firm and securing and loving and nothing like how confining his father’s have always felt. Remy lets himself melt into a moment, before slowly pulling away.

He gets Cha-Cha in her harness, calls out a goodbye, waits for one in response, and is out the door.

-

Remy arrives there perfectly on time and gets in line because coffee. He quickly texts Virgil to let him know that he's arrived and then texts Kai as well to tell them the same thing.

He’s just had someone show him to a table when a figure leans over him and speaks.

“Remy, right? I’m Kai.”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile, and reaches a hand out. Kai takes it and shakes it before dropping the hand and then sitting at the table.

“This Cha-Cha then?”

“Yeah,” Remy tells them, “You can say hi if you want.”

With permission Kai greats his dog with some cheerful cooing and pets. After a moment they stop and fall into semi-awkward silence.

“So,” Kai drawls.

“So,” Remy responds.

“I’m sorta awful at socializing,” Kai admits with a small laugh.

“That’s okay,” Remy says, “I don’t think I’m much better.

Five minutes later and they’re talking like they’ve known each other for years, initial awkwardness gone.

They talk about their dorm a bit, and Kai brings up their excitement at a gender-inclusive dorming option. Remy agrees with them, a smile on his face. Kai’s excitement is easily explained, the use of changing they/them and he/him pronouns making it clear why they picked it. Remy knows that he himself has to be hard to place. Kai probably assumes he’s just an ally. Which he is (isn’t he?). Remy almost wishes that Kai would ask him why he chose these particular dorms.

Except maybe not, because Remy knows what he’d answer.

He’s a guy. He’s cis. It’s fine.

He’s fine.

He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine.

He. He. He.

~~~

taglist below

~ask to be added or removed~

@mewithanie @eddies-spaghetti @lemonyellowlogic @savioursailor @goldteethandacurseforthistown @you-betcha-weirdo

[supacutiepie]

here we go AGAIN- I got a NEW BNHA AU for yall

I’ve made up like, four to five really Big Ass Aus for BNHA which range from fantasy abo to quirkless society outcast tropes fest.

Right now, the trope fest is loving my muse. We got:

-Punk Bakugou

-Nerd Midoriya (with an attention for the arts. *I.E. Theater and Writing)

-Jock Kirishima (Soccer)

-Popular Kid Todoroki (Who is going to bring his abusive father and his poor trauma coping mechanisms to their KNEEs)

Also ft’ing:

The entire LOV squad are actually all anarchists/really over the top, rebellious, possibly mutinous, protesters and freedom fighters for their own causes. AKA a bunch of anti-heros

-Touya becomes Dabi, he ran from home at a very young age. He “works” on blackmailing corrupt businessmen and exposing really awful characters in the city. (Abusive husbands, “Unholy Men”, and anyone he can prove is using their “Rank” to hurt others.)

-Shigaraki is the figurehead for Problem Children”” AKA, anyone who got royally fucked by the system that doesn’t/refuses to care for kids who aren’t The Ideal. (( He came from a semi affluent family, but when they died(without him murderingthem this time lol) because of his mental illness, they battered and beat him down until he ran for his life and started looking out for kids like him. He highly resents the social/foster care system. who tried to flaunt his family’s tragic story while continuing to abuse him)

Everyone else will have a more developed plot point promises.

--Mainly the point here is that our Punk boy runs in similar circles to the LOV with underground shit and what not. Which becomes important because Todoroki is Going To Need It.

**** Major plot idea here is found family and friendships over blood relatives. 

-The Bakugou’s aren’t physically abusive, but they are negligent, emotional supportive, and verbally abusive.This is what turns Katsuki towards Punk and grunge and etc, he finds a nice niche that  “Gets It” but then also appeals to His Need For Aesthetics.

-Midoriya’s dad is super absent. He isn’t married to Inko in this, they parted relatively soon in Izuku’s life. (Despite this absence: He is actually a decent sorta dad. just a bad family guy. he tries hard not to miss birthdays, any sort of “First Time” events or shows, and when he does miss things he sends extravagant care packages to apologize and always shows in person for the very next event with more apologies. its not ideal, but its alright)

_The Todoroki family in this will be Worse Than The Canon*** And I highlight this to avoid making anyone upset by blindsidedness etc. I intend on ripping Enji to pieces, but in the story im thinking, he def hurts the ones around him a lot. 

-This just means that Shouto and Fuyumi will get hurt at some point, and that Shouto will very much need his new group of friends to Be Alright. (and might run away at some point. thinking abt it)

-Despite me enjoying the new chapters where endeavor is actively trying to fix shit and repair the tattered remains of his family, I do not give him this opportunity here.

-Which means Natsuo ran for the fucking hills and never intends on coming back until he can take everything from that man ESPECIALLY Shouto and Fuyumi.

--- Rei is alive, but the kids Don’t Know That?? 

Like, she still hurts Shouto. He still gets a scar though more realistic (not just  a splotch, plus some eye damage). But she most definitely had a full mental break and tbh its sad as fuck. But right after that she “vanishes” and enji claims she ran like a coward yadda yadda (truth is he hauled her off to an out of country mental facility never to be heard from etc)

This is p much all I’m thinking. Yall wanna use it, go for it. Just let me know so I can read or watch how it goes bc I doubt I’ll be able to do more than freak the fuck out and Make More IDEAS....

(Oh and in MY version I can’t let go of the otp so its poly shipping if yall curious. I LIVE for kbdk and ill die loving these three. todoroki MIGHT get some romance, but moreso he gets HEALTHY FUCKING RELATIONSHIPS!!!!... and a little romance because Inasa is a Big Dumb Sweet Loud Boy who stole my whole ass heart...)

[stevieang]

May I Have This Dance Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston RPF x Plus-Size Reader Insert

Word Count: 3400

Warnings: If too much sweet fluffiness isn’t your thing, then keep on going. This is full-on no-holds-barred fluff, though this chapter throws in some angsty goodness .

Tags:   @3dsaunt  @andiyholly  @averyrogers83  @babybluesunsets @bettercallsabs @brittyevans  @brookebarnes @captain-rogers-beard @cecygee   @csrfavs   @docharleythegeekqueen  @dorito-distractions  @everythingisoverrated  @fabicchi  @favhearts  @flawless-disaster  @gifsbysimplysonia @hazeleyedgirl7   @hennessy0274-blog @inumorph @jaguars2007  @jaamesbbarnes @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  @janeyboo @joshburtonhellzyess  @jouhainak @learisa @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @lilylovescomics   @lojo83   @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @lostinspace33  @madicardi  @magellan-88   @mamapeterson   @me-a-hopeless-romantic  @meyoko10  @mindingmyownbusiness @mizzzpink @neverleturheartshow2  @nomadicpixel  @part-time-patronus @patzammit @pinkieandthebrain1 @redqueen1221  @sebbytrash  @sgtjbuccky  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​  @stark-spangled-banner-man​  @st-eve-barnes​ @stillherebiandabitch​ @sunriserose1023​ @suz-123​ @the-real-kellymonster​  @tutis24​ @winterismyfavoriteseason1945​  @winters-beauty​ @yaykitty3​

Summary: Two of your best friends are getting married and you have the honor of singing at their wedding.  At the reception you’re approached by a famous friend of the groom, Tom Hiddleston.  Much polite flirting ensues. Here’s the “more to come.” Enjoy!

A/N: Hey y’all!  Thank you so much for your time, your kind words, and all the good stuff you send my way! I am loving this fic now, and though this chapter took me a long time to start, it flowed once I did.  This chapter had a rough start, but then once I just wrote, no filtering, it came to me.  Of course, that meant a hella lot of editing, but that’s sorta my jam. :)

Chapter 4

The sun rose.  You opened your eyes again and the world was still turning. You felt sore - an unhappy reunion with the heartache at the memory of your late husband, John.  Then, “they” kicked in.  Your emotional coping mechanisms you learned and practiced after the worst thing you never thought you would survive - the process of feeling, accepting, and getting to the other side of pain or sadness or hurt.  Last night it was sadness, when Jason mentioned John in his toast, you felt your worlds collide - old and new, aching and healed, before and after.  

A deep breath, a mindful mantra, and your feet were on the floor, ready to return to the present.  Before you reached the door handle to to get some fresh air (and a croissant, if truth be told), you spotted an envelope just inside your door and crossed your fingers.

              Darling, I didn’t want to bother you but I wanted you to know I                            hope you’re well.  I can’t assume to understand what you’re going                      through tonight, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here, anytime.                      I’m in room 1008 on the top floor and I’ve made sure anyone who                      needs to  know will let you up.  

              I also wanted to let you know that I’m leaving tomorrow night.                            I’m starting rehearsal for a new play in London and the producers                     called last  night to let me know the cast has to do early press day                     after next.  I don’t leave until 10pm, so if you were so inclined to see                 me tomorrow, I’d love to.   

             Again, don’t hesitate to be in touch if you need a shoulder, an ear,                     or any part  of me that could lend you comfort or support.  That                         sounded quite lecherous, but hopefully you know I don’t mean it that                 way.

             Best, Tom

Without thinking, you double-checked for your keys and phone and made your way to the 10th floor.  You had to request access but once you gave your name, you were waved through.  Your nerves flitted when you knocked, but quickly dissipated when Tom answered and pulled you in for a warm hug, which you eagerly absorbed.  You took a tiny step back and held his hands in yours.

“Thank you for the letter.”  His smile was soft and sweet, his eyes holding concern and care, silently saying the right things.  Your breath was normal as you stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.  “Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

His feet stayed where they were while he pulled you so subtly your bodies touched and you hadn’t recalled moving.  His forehead landed lightly against yours and you closed your eyes as he whispered.  

“I would love to, but I have another idea.  What would you think about staying in today?” You slowly opened your eyes to see his smile, inviting and beautiful, and had no doubts about agreeing.  He stepped back towards the living area, encouraged you to follow, and called for room service after asking for your favorites.

Among breakfast, movies, lunch, and packing you laughed and talked and kissed and laughed some more.  As the day ended, you laid your head on his shoulder and watched the sunset through the unending windows that encircled the suite’s front room, and breathed in and out in time with the rise and fall of his chest.  His peaceful silence felt like an invitation.

“He was my first real love - John.” Tom quickly assured you that you didn’t have to speak about it, but you assured right back that it didn’t hurt, it was more like a needle prick, to share this part of your life.

“There was happiness and fun and joy and love.  Experiencing wholehearted acceptance and desire was soul-changing.  He helped me feel worthy, sexy, smart, and perfect for him in almost every way.”  You laughed at the absurd memories of your fights, usually about dirty socks or forgotten to-do lists.

All of Tom’s attention was focused on you, and he seemed to think carefully before speaking.

“He was a smart man who also happened to be incredibly lucky.  I’m a bit envious, to be honest.”  You lifted your head up and placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him gently.

“I’m telling you because you don’t need to be.  After John died, I was adrift, disassociative, locked out of life and locked inside my hurt.  Thank God for my family and friends checking on me, supporting me, helping me stay as healthy as possible.  I did every passive thing I could to stop feeling.  I didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, didn’t take my medicine - if it hadn’t been for Jason, Tina, my parents and siblings and John’s family, too, I know I wouldn’t be here.”

His next kiss was intimate, slow, and felt different.  “I am grateful to them and to you for fighting to stay.  Sometimes it’s easier not to.” You both sighed at that truth, each with your own quiet examples that did not need to be spoken.

You were hesitant to think about the end of this perfect day, but it arrived nonetheless.  He pulled you to your feet and hugged you, filling you with warmth and comfort.

“Walk me to the lobby?” You nodded and stood back as he gathered up his bag and backpack, checked for his keys and phone, and closed the door.   The ride downstairs was silent, but not sad.  As you walked out into the lobby, your giggle made him stop, turn, and raise his eyebrows.  Your blush was as much from embarrassment as it was from the wine, the kissing, and the late hour.

“We were alone in the elevator, about to reach our destination where we part ways after an emotional experience.”  Laughter left your lips in waves, suddenly finding your own thought hilarious.  Again, wine + late hour + swoony kissing = tipsy in more ways than one.  Tom remained stymied.  It took him a minute, but he lit up when he got it.

“You’re talking about a stop-the-elevator-with-the-emergency-button-and-make out scene, aren’t you?”  You could barely pull in a breath, but you nodded vigorously.  

“I’ve filmed one of those.  Pretty hot, I’d say.”  You straightened up, wiped the laughing tears away, and kept walking to the front entrance.  He caught up with one step of those ridiculously long legs and pulled your arm so he could whisper to you.  “Next time.”  Shivers ran down your neck and back and you grinned at the idea.

Your goodbye hug was warm, but quick.  You weren’t great at lingering or awkward farewells and you’d had enough emotional upheaval to last awhile.  You wished him the best with the play and thanked him for the last week, and he reciprocated in kind.  Addresses were exchanged and inter-continental communication promised.  He slid smoothly into the backseat after giving you one last kiss, and off he went.  

You walked back to your room, soon falling asleep after a wonderful day you would not soon forget.  You woke up a bit sad, but eager to do your last bit of sightseeing and friend visits before returning to the real world.  As you confirmed your plans, you were startled by a knock at the door and the hotel employee who held an exquisite arrangement of your favorite flowers.  The card did not disappoint.

                   To thank you for being you, with me, for the last week.                                       To thank you for your laugh, your joy, your realness.                                           To thank you for enlightening me, showing me new things                                           that astounded.                                                                                             To thank you for making me miss you, as soon as I left you.                               To ask you not to forget, as I am unable to.         -Tom

One of the biggest sighs you ever heard made it past your lips.  A quick picture taken and you were texting away, though it was almost 9pm in London and you had no idea when you’d hear back.  Or if.

You: The flowers are gorgeous, thank you.  The card was a romantic’s dream. Tom: Would you consider yourself a romantic?                                              You:  Hey! I did not think I’d get you in real time.  Deep down, yes, I’m a romantic. How about you?                                                                            Tom: I’ll let the card answer that question. ;)                                                You: He he he.  How are you? You must be exhausted.                              Tom: We just finished the press junket for the day, and I’m about to sleep for 24 hours.  At least.  I came right off the plane to work.                                  You: I’m sorry to keep you from your pillow, but I wanted to tell you how much I appreciated your thoughtfulness and excellent taste - the flowers are perfect and the card - well, let’s just say my ancestors will swoon when they find it among my things. :)                                                                                        You: Goodnight, Tom.  

Before your heart could skip another beat, an unknown London number came up.  Since you knew exactly one person who was there, you took a chance and picked up.

“You’re most welcome.  I just wanted you to know I was thinking of you.”  A long, loud yawn punctuated the ensuing silence.

“Thank you, Tom.  As always, you’re a paragon of politeness.”  You giggled at your alliteration but quickly got a flood of warm prickles across your skin when he responded.

“I wasn’t going for polite.”  You had to keep up the volley with the only question you could think of, and his answer did not disappoint.

“I was going for honest.  I wanted to make sure you knew that every moment together last week was real for me, as I hope it was for you.”  You must have been quiet longer than he expected, as he checked to make sure you were still on the line.  You went with the first thing that came to mind.

“You hit every note, every day - warm, fun, and most definitely real.”

When there was more silence than talking, you said goodnight with wishes of sweet dreams and promises for tomorrow.    __________________________________

The return to work filled your days and early evenings, while rehearsals, press, and post-production work for films already shot filled his.  You texted or emailed in the mornings and afternoons, but thanks to the 4-hour time difference, had the most luck talking while you ate dinner and he was winding down from his day.  Your conversations recapped the day but ran deeper, into the dreams, hopes, aspirations, hurts, and passions you both experienced.  Each time you hung up you felt emptied of anything false and filled with a growing sense of calm excitement .  It was hard for you to trust that feeling, knowing that life’s strong hands can pull the snuggest rug out from under you without a lick of provocation, but the more you shared, the safer you felt. _________________________________

The work was brilliant.  Pinter was a genius playwright and this was Tom’s chance to go back to his home, the stage.  Zawe and Charlie and him were on stage for the entire play - no intermission and no hiding.  Everything was out there - raw, painful, still.  Rehearsals were paying off and looking really really well - it was just what he needed.  But.

After one week back at work, he was surprised how regularly he thought of you, someone he just met.  The days were a blur of car rides, rehearsals, ADR for his newest film, press, and trying to sneak in some time with his family given they were in the same country, for once.  It was exhausting, but he found himself wanting to know how you were, wanting to hear your laugh and do so right along with you, wanting to hug and hold and kiss all the soft and strong places he knew held equal shares within you.  He loved seeing your texts and more so, your responses when he hit just the right note - be it silly, serious, or sexy.  

Each night, around the same time, he’d call when he got home, usually getting you at dinner.  At first, you apologized for what you called “dull days” compared to his, but he would not hear that and it guided things towards deeper, more serious discussions about everything from world news, work, and family, to hopes, dreams, and fears.  The conversations nourished him, excited him, made him yearn for more.  More than he could have with an ocean between you.                                           ______________________________________

“I wish you were here, darling.” You hadn’t heard that level of frustration in his voice before.  

“Are you alright? You sound different.  Everything ok?”  His smile was soft as he laid in bed, listening to your kindness and missing being near enough to kiss you as thanks.

“I’m alright and not at the same time and in the interest of creating more confusion, I’m only partly sure why.”  Another long breath out and silence.

“I’m here if you want to talk about it, but if you don’t, I have a funny story from today that might help you feel better.”  You started talking about a student trying to hide something in his locker to surprise a teammate after school but accidentally left it in the bathroom and the principal was walking by when he spoke.

“I know why now.”  You could do nothing but wait.

“I want to be near you.  I want to hold that luscious, sexy body of yours and show you how much you’ve come to mean to me.  I want to feel and see your laugh, not just hear it.  I want to see you without your glasses and push those strands of errant hair out of the way so I can kiss you senseless.”

Nothing.  Crickets.  Sweat began to drip off his head while his heart hammered with the idea that he’d offended you, that he’d been too frank, that…..

“I want the same thing, Tom.”  He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until you spoke and a new one filled his lungs.  “But I don’t think it’s possible right now.  Maybe after the play closes?”

That wasn’t good enough.  Not nearly good enough, but Tom was ready to call in every favor if it meant seeing you.

“I can’t leave London, but why don’t you let me buy you a ticket? Maybe you could take a few days off?” Something felt wrong as soon as the words left his mouth.  Your tone of voice was new and not one he wanted to hear on a regular basis.

“No, I can’t accept that kind of gift. I appreciate your thoughtfulness and generosity, but if I can’t afford it on my own, I can’t go.  I’m sorry not to see you, but that’s how I feel.”  He sat up in bed, suddenly aware that a button had been pushed, and stammered out an apology that was quickly accepted but just-as-quickly followed by your goodnight.

________________________________

Did you overreact? You knew Tom offered so you could see each other - you both wanted that.  He could certainly afford it, and you couldn’t, and you would have done the same thing if the places had been reversed.  So why the meltdown?

You didn’t want to be indebted to anyone.  Yes, the ol’ trust issues reared their ugly head and made accepting a gift of this size impossible.  You knew Tom offered from a place of sincerity and caring, but what if? What if something changed while you were there and you were beholden to him to get home? What if the week you had together was a fluke, the chemistry misunderstood, the attraction based on circumstances rather than connection?  You needed help.

You and Tom met at the wedding of your good friends, Beth and Peter, aka, The Marrieds.  They were the only people that knew both of you, so you reached out to get an objective opinion.  Being lawyers, your long-time friends, and smug-as-hell show-offs because you and Tom had hit it off at their wedding, made them experts on the subject of you (in their minds).

FaceTiming with them was an event.  The two of them jockeying for position in front of the camera, interrupting each other, and finally listening when you threatened to hang up.  After your synopsis there was no loss for opinions or admonitions about how you were letting your pride get in the way of being happy.  You couldn’t really refute that, but dammit if you weren’t going to try.  

“Guys, I hear you, but I don’t think I’m wrong for wanting to pay for things myself.  I also don’t want Tom to think I’m taking advantage of his generosity - kind of a slippery slope, if you know what I mean?”

“Nope, we don’t.”  Apparently, Beth had been elected the spokesperson for both of them.  You laughed after asking them if marriage had fused their brains together and stony silence was their response.

“I mean, what if it’s a ticket now, then a stay at a hotel, then a Jaguar, then a house and then I’m a kept woman and I’ve turned into Rebecca from the       du Maurier novel.”  You bust a gut laughing at the absurdity of that statement, but returned to the reason you called after you calmed down.  

“I just feel wrong about it.  Whether it’s because I don’t want to rely on someone to buy things for me, or because it doesn’t feel right to accept such an extravagant gift, it doesn’t matter.  It does not reflect my feelings, just my need to be independent.”  There you go.  Once you said that, out loud, your tension and stress around the issue floated away, leaving you in peace.  Shortly after you wrapped up the call and made another one.

Looking at the time, he would most likely be at the theater, but you needed to tell him.  The voice message you were going to leave was practiced and ready.  As the phone kept ringing, you inhaled before leaving it but started coughing when a live voice answered.

“Darling wait, don’t hang up.  Give me a moment, please.”  Clunking muffled noises punctuated by “great rehearsal,” and “have a good evening” preceded Tom’s return.  

“Are you still at the theatre?  I was fully prepared to leave a message, I know you’re working.”  His reassurances were quick and sweet.  He spoke words that sounded like the start of an apology, but you interrupted.

“I’m sorry I ended our call so abruptly last night.  I was caught off guard and I did not react graciously, and for that, I’m sorry.”  You listened to his breathing, in and of itself a comfort.  “I overreacted and in my attempt to figure out why, I called Beth and Peter to get an objective opinion.”  His boisterous laugh surprised you.

“Were you successful in getting that unbiased perspective?”  You had to smile because he clearly knew it was a fool’s errand, which you confirmed, but you had one more thing to get off your chest.

“I called to tell you I appreciate your offer, but I cannot accept it, in good conscience.  I thank you, but I’m not at a place where I can feel comfortable about such an extravagant gift.  I hope you can understand.”  He sighed and you could have sworn you heard him say something but you didn’t quite catch it.  You said your piece in the way you wish you would have the night before, and he was still at work, so you readied your goodbye when he started talking.

“I didn't mean to offend, I hope you know.  The offer was born out of missing you and wanting to see you and not wanting to wait.  I am sorry if it was interpreted as a means of controlling you or making you indebted to me in some way.”  You couldn’t have asked for more.  You both acknowledged the other’s viewpoints, apologized, and you considered it resolved, which you expressed in exactly those words, and clicked off feeling good.  _______________________________

Now that was different.  A woman he was attracted to and wanted to spend more time with would not accept a gift from him.  He was pissed when she refused, worried when they didn’t talk, and understanding once they had.  Guess he’d have to employ one of his weakest skills - patience.  Something - instinct, gut feeling, mojo - told him she was worth waiting for. _________________________________

That night, instead of talking, you got to work on a personal project you’d been putting off.  A pile of pictures had laid in a box, under your bed, since you moved.  When you put them in sequence and tucked the last one into the now-finished album, you felt complete.  As you looked over the pictures of you and John with and without dear friends and family, you felt peaceful.  When you put the book away, grabbed your laptop and credit card and began to investigate flights and hotel prices, there was nothing but giddy excitement. 

Chapter 5

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T REWRITE - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 3 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

With Eleven gone, Y/n struggles to keep the party together. Elsewhere, Hopper and Joyce uncover the truth about the lab’s many experiments.

Managed to pause it at the right time 

||3rd Person POV|| "She was part of some study in college." Becky, who had now properly introduced herself to the duo, was sitting at the kitchen table with Joyce and Hopper with her sister Terry still in the adjoining room. "MK Ultra?" Hopper had remembered the name popping up several times on the many newspaper clippings and articles they had at their disposal. "Yeah, that's the one." Becky said bleakly, taking a puff of her cigarette and then quickly exhaled. "Was, uh, started in the '50s. By the time Terry got involved, it was supposed to be ramping down, but the drugs just got crazier. Messed her up good." Hopper remained leaning back in his chair, a concentrated frown stuck in his features. "This was the CIA that ran this?" Becky smiled and softly chucked, motion to the man slightly. "You and Terry would've gotten along. 'The Man,' with a big capital 'M'. They'd pay... you know, a couple hundred bucks to people like my sister, give 'em drugs, psychedelics. LSD, mostly." As Becky spoke, Hopper and Joyce shared an equally concerned look. "And then they'd strip her naked and put her in these isolation tanks." Joyce frowned. "Isolation tanks?" "Yeah. These big bathtubs, basically, filled with salt water, so you can float around in there." She made subtle swaying motions with her hand as she spoke. "You lose any sense of, uh... sense and feel nothing, see nothing. They wanted to expand the boundaries of the mind. Real hippie crap." Joyce was still hanging onto every word with a genuine look of concern. "I... I mean, it's not like they were forcing her to do any of this stuff. The thing is, though, is that she didn't know she was pregnant at the time." "Jane." Joyce said in immediate understanding. Becky nodded and took another puff of her cigarette. Joyce sighed in amazement, before asking. "Do you have any pictures of her?" Becky gave the two an odd look. "I don't think you guys understand. Terry miscarried in the third trimester." +++ "She keeps all of this up. Been doing it for 12 years." Becky had just led the two into the untouched baby room at the end of the hallway. She took a seat on the arm of the chair in the corner of the room as Joyce and Hopper came in and examined the room in curiosity. "Terry, uh, pretends like Jane is real," Hopper approaches the hanging mobile and gives it a light touch sending it spinning slowly and triggering the mechanics so now it plays a haunting lullaby. "like she's gonna come home someday." The mobile continues playing the lullaby as Becky speaks, giving the atmosphere a chilling tone. "Says she special. Born with 'abilities'" 《•••》 Eleven stood to her feet and before they could close the steel door, she threw the door open along with one of the men straight into the tile wall. He fell to the floor, leaving a large hole in the tile 《•••》 "Abilities?" Joyce contorted her face in confusion and surprise. Becky looked to Joyce as she exhaled the smoke that previously resided in her lungs. 《•••》 The second man spared a second to look before turning to her to try and restrain her. Before he could even step foot in the room, he was dead on floor, his neck snapped. All with the flick of her head. 《•••》 "You read any Stephen King?" Becky quipped. 《•••》 The cat began snarling, and it quickly turned to whimpers of pain. Eleven was freely crying now as she looked between the frightened cat and Papa. She gave one final look at the cat before yanking the wires off her head in defeat. 《•••》 Hopper shifted uncomfortably and looked to Joyce who looked equally unsettled. Becky chuckles. "You guys look scared, actually." She laughed once more before shaking her head slightly. "I mean, it's all make-believe" Joyce clears her throat uncomfortably, trying to regain her composure. "What... what kind of abilities?" Becky stares off into space as she recalls the claims made by her sister and begins listing them off casually. "Telepathy, telekinesis..." 《•••》 A shrill shriek erupts from Eleven's throat and Lucas Sinclair is thrown back several feet in the air. His body slides a few feet on the ground until it crashes into a nearby piece scrap metal knocking him unconscious. 《•••》 "You know, shit you can do with your mind. That's why the big, bad Man stole Jane away." 《•••》 "Papa!" She screamed her throat raw as the men dragged her away, yet as always Papa did nothing. 《•••》 "Her baby's a weapon, off fighting the commies. You know, the doctor's all day it's a coping mechanism. You know, to deal with the guilt. Hell, she even believes that she still could have done something. Shortly before she got, you know pretty bad, she started muttering about, uh, something about how there was more she could have done." Becky frowned as she recalled the memory and seeing her sister so frantic. Hopper frowned at this, silently encouraging her to continue. Becky shrugged. "According to Terry, there was another woman like her. You know, who was pregnant during all the experiments. I don't know what happened, or if it was even true, but she seemed pretty convinced. Said this woman had her baby and even got her out somehow." Hopper perked up at this, recalling the many mentions of the "missing experiment" and wondered if there was any connection. "Are you saying there was another kid?" "According to Terry. You couldn't convince her otherwise if you had tried." A sympathetic smile crossed Becky's face as she recalled the memory. "She would go on about all the whispers she'd claimed to have heard. Apparently, the woman had her baby but got away before they could take 'em, and only the child supposedly survived. This baby by the way, who was supposed to have some sorta" Becky's face scrunched up in distaste as she told the made up stories of her sister, clearly uncomfortable with the idea and she made big gestures with her hands. "'untapped potential for the greater good'. Some real messed up pseudoscience shit and when she supposedly 'got away' the big, bad Man did not like it and killed the woman and they were comin' for Jane next. And the rest, well" she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, do you think there is any chance she could have been telling the truth?" Becky only gave her a look. "About having had Jane, at least. Or even the other woman?" Joyce stammered. "Well, as for the possibility of another woman being pregnant during all that isn't exactly impossible given it happened to Terry so I never really ruled that possibility out I guess, but as far as Jane? There is no birth certificate, nothing from the hospital. Doctors and nurses all confirm that she miscarried." Hopper who had very seriously been contemplating all this finely spoke up. "Yeah, but that could've been covered up. Right?" Becky smiled and shook her head. "Like I said, you and Terry would've gotten along." ||Reader's POV|| "El!" "Eleven!" "Eleven!" "El!" "El!" The boys and I had been wandering around the woods by Mirkwood for almost a half an hour now. My fingers were beginning to hurt from the brisk icy air. I was clutching the handles of my bike as I walked it through the woods. "El?" I called desperately. No answer, of course. I stiffen when I hear a twig snap in the distance. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one who heard it. "Hey, stop. Do you hear that?" Mike said lowering his voice. "What?" Dustin asked quietly. We were all standing still until Mike began turning around, attempting to protect his voice as far as he could. "El!" Nothing. "El?" "Shit." I began backing away on instinct when I see the all too familiar pair of bullies quickly approaching us. They looked mad. Troy, specifically. He had his hood over his head as he charged up the small hill into view. "Hey, there, Frogface. Toothless. And who could forget little miss bitch." Troy hissed, whipping out his pocket knife. "Shit! Run, guys, run!" Dustin shouted, throwing his bike to the ground. "Run! Come on!" I quickly followed suit and the three of us dashed off into the woods. I was going as fast as my legs could possibly carry me. Never stopping, I spared a glance behind me only to lock eyes with Troy. The look in his eyes terrified me. "You're dead Henderson!" I whipped my head forward and I put everything I had into going faster. "Run, [Y/N], come on!" Dustin yelled. Soon enough, I felt my legs turn to led and my lungs were bone dry. Mike was now in lead. We made it to the quarry when Dustin began slowing down and let out a gasp of pain. "Cramp!" He exclaimed, clutching his side. "Just keep going!" Mike called over his shoulder. He continued running but he let out a groan. "Keep going!" Troy was right on our heels, just when we thought we might lose him we saw his goon around the corner in front us. This is it. We're trapped. We all shared the same thought and picked up the closest thing to ourselves and held them up as weapons. Dustin grabbed a rather sharp stick and Mike grabbed a large stone. With little to no options left I decided to take a page out of Dustin's book. Only there were no more sticks so I grabbed a nearby tree branch. It was thin and relatively small for a tree branch but it would have to work none the less. Instinctively, I grab it by both hands and snap it half using my leg. Casting aside the weaker piece, left me with a now very sharp make shift spear. I grasped the "spear" with both hands and held it out in front of myself protectively, blowing a few strands of loose hair from my face. "Stay back." Troy didn't listen and stepped closer. "I SAID STAY BACK!" I roar. I saw him flinch. I smiled very slightly to myself, proud that I had intimated him for once. They began circling us like vultures. "Don't come any closer!" Mike yelled. I had an eye on Troy who was just as focused on me. I didn't trust him enough to look away. Yet, upon hearing a grunt and the clatter of the stone, I was worried Mike or Dustin got hurt and out of instinct I looked. "Nice throw, numbnuts." Mike had thrown the stone but mis- I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and I collapsed to the ground. "[Y/N]!?" I groaned and I tried sitting up but my vision was blurry and moving seemed like an impossible feat. I groan in pained and I seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, unable to do anything. I thought I heard my name called a few times and I could have sworn that I felt a pair of hands trying to shake me awake. I only groaned and put all my energy into opening my eyes but then I saw it. The rock that hit me. It was slightly larger than my fist and it was it had a few splatters of blood. The sight weakened me and I groaned and rolled over on my side. My left arm became a pillow for my bleeding head. The next thing I heard was yelling. I could tell it was from Dustin. "YOU SON OF BITCH!" He then let out and a fierce scream and then I heard the sound of scuffling. I wanted to do something, but I was still too dizzy. "Get off! Get off me! Don't hurt her!" I gathered all the strength I could muster and look up to my brother. That bastard. He had my brother. He was holding my brother hostage with his knife to my brother. "G-Get away from-!" I began to stand up only for my knees to buckle and I tripped over my own two feet and stumbled to the ground once more. This time I could feel the sting of the gravel digging into my palms and all the blood rush to my head. It was too much for me and I couldn't stop myself from slipping into unconsciousness. +++ "Dentist's office opens in five!" 'What?' My limbs felt like they were made of less once more, even my eyelids were heavy, they felt impossible to open. I made out distorted shouts. "Four!" 'Whatever is happening I know it's bad.' "Three!" 'Come on, wake up!' "Two!" My eyes began to go flutter open. "Mike!" I made out Mike's figuring standing on a ledge. Why was he looking like he was gonna- Shit. 'What the hell? No! No, you idiot, no!' Putting everything I had I sat up, my vision slowly but surely returning as well as my strength. "Mike-" I said weakly. "One!" But it was too late. In one swift motion he stepped off the ledge and disappeared. "Mike!" I cried out. Three boys looked shocked and ran to the ledge. 'No. No! No, he- No! What the hell happened?! How did everything go so wrong so quickly?' I choked on a sob, which made my head throb. But I didn't care. Now I really felt nauseous. I placed both my hands over my mouth and silent tears fell down my cheeks. "Holy shit." Dustin said. I sniffled and looked to the boys. Why weren't they freaking out more? That's when I heard it. It was Mike. It was distant, but it was Mike. I wanted to say something but I was still in shock. I didn't know where to begin. 'Is it Mike? Is he okay? Why did he jump? Why aren't you guys freaking out?' I wanted to say all those things but nothing came out. My heart leaped when I heard him shriek and for a second I thought he might be falling again but then... "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" I couldn't believe what happened next. But sure enough there he was. Floating upside down, up over the cliff and landed safely on the ground behind me. I stared in shock. We all did. "Am I still unconscious?" Thought out loud. Naturally, Mike was just as confused as we were, he wore the same expression as I did when he made eye contact with me. But then all my questions were answered when Mike's gaze shifting behind me. There she was in all her glory. El. She had abandoned the wig but remained in the same old dress and jacket Mike had given her. Only now they were covered in dirt, as was her face. Her head was tilted down and she stormed up the group. A huge grin found it's a way onto my face and an excited and relieved laugh left my mouth as she approached us. James and Troy began stomping towards her when suddenly, without warning James was knocked back with incredible force. I looked to El knowing it was her doing, then suddenly she flicked her head to the side and I heard a rather disgusting snap followed by Troy crying out in pain. He clutched his right arm and dropped his knife in the process. I felt an arm extend itself to me, it was Dustin, who was helping me stand up. I gladly took his arm and wobbled to my feet. "She broke my arm! My arm!" "Serves you right asshole." I spit. Quite literally in fact. I spit in his direction making sure he caught the gesture. He was too busy being afraid to retaliate and he looked to El, cowering. "Go." She stated threateningly. "Let's get out of here! Let's go!" Troy screamed. James was quick to follow. "Go!" Dustin left my side and chased after them, taking the opportunity to taunt them which I rather enjoyed seeing. "Yeah, that's right! You better run!" Me and Mike look gleefully at one another. "She's our friend and she's crazy! You come back here and she'll kill you! You hear me? She'll kill you, you sons of bitches! She'll kill you, you hear me?" I looked to El happily when I noticed she looked rather pale. Suddenly she collapsed. We all surrounded her, worriedly. "El, you alright?" I asked. "El?" She made eye contact with Mike and began sobbing. "Mike... I'm sorry." "Sorry? What are you sorry for?" She choked back another sob. I frowned and hissed in pain slightly. My hand went to the back of my head, silently inspecting the wound as I listening to El. "The gate... I opened it. I'm the monster." My hand left my wound, and I felt another wave of dizziness wash over me and I knelt down on the ground. Not wanting to interrupt her but also avoiding the possibility of falling over. "No. No, El, you're not the monster. You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me." Mike pulled her up and into a hug. I smiled at the sight and leaned in joining hug. Normally I would let them have their moment but given that Mike was almost just killed and things could have been a lot worse, I didn't care and went in for it. Dustin apparently had the same idea and I felt his arms wrap around me and Mike and El. And we stayed like that for as long as we could. At that moment we were just four friends who were lucky enough to have found each other. And thank God we did. +++ Eventually, of course, we got up and decided to grab our bikes and to the gate. Hopefully, find Lucas and convince him to help. I feel awful for letting him go alone. Once again, Dustin helped me to my feet to which I thanked him for. I gave a reassuring smile to my brother. But his face contorted in shock and worry as he looked at me. "What?" "[Y/N], your face. You've got... you're- Dude your face is covered in- veins? What the hell? [Y/N], are you sure you're okay? You got hit pretty hard and you were pretty out of it." I frowned, tracing my fingers around my cheeks in confusion. "I'll be fine. I'll have to be, finding Will and getting Lucas back is more important. Which is why we need to get moving. Come on, we better hurry if we want to get s head start. We still have to get our bikes back." I said, leading the way back from where we were chased. I didn't want to show them how uncomfortable I was. I didn't want to show weakness so I trek on. Despite the tingling sensation I felt throughout my entire body and the sense of dizziness that had made its return once more. 'I'm not and an idiot. I know that weird, unexplainable things have been happening to me but I honestly have no idea how to process all this so for now, all I can afford to worry about is Will.’ That's all that matters now. +++ We eventually found out bikes and were currently returning from the woods through one of the park fences. We were all walking our bikes across the patch of grass, save for El of course, when I the familiar sense of being watched returned for the second time today. Only this time, it put me on edge and left me paranoid. At the risk of worrying the group, I kept this to myself. Oh, what a mistake that was.

+++

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