#course if you were popular you got a pass to do fucked up shit all the time but nevermind that rn

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

[luvevee]

Remembering I'm an adult and can write/post adult things with my adult hands

[itneverendshere]

Perhaps Rafe x Shy!Bartender reader at the country club. Maybe she was driven there and was supposed to get picked up, but shit got in the way. And she is far from home. Rafe is there that day for golfing or something and it’s her first day. He is instantly smitten and waits until her shift is over to properly ask her out, and notices she has no car to get home and gets protective

i looooved this and in my head this is EXACTLY how rafe and pogue!reader from this request met. this is the same universe, im making it canon rn

it could be you and me - rafe cameron

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.5k

Rafe slid through the crowd, heading toward the golf course. He had plans to join Topper for a round or two.

Like usual, his presence drew glances—partially because of the rumors that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Being the epitome of privilege, born into the wealth that afforded him everything, made sure that all eyes were on him, everywhere he went on that stupid fucking town. But that day, he’d been off his game from the moment he woke up.

He felt out of place, restless and mostly, bored. Every day in this place felt the same to him. The pleasures he used to get from being a kook were slowly burning out. The days had started blending together, the endless cycle of parties, and drinks had begun to lose its allure. Doing the same thing, over and over again. 

Nothing was new. Nothing was exciting anymore.

He was bored out of his mind. Golf wasn’t exactly his passion, but it was a way to pass the time, to pretend like he shouldn’t be in the office finishing whatever paperwork his father had shoved down his throat the night before. 

He needed a drink if he wanted to get through the rest of the day without breaking something.

He approached the clubhouse and noticed a small crowd gathered at the bar. It wasn’t an unusual sight—it was one of the most popular spots in the club—but something, or rather someone, caught his attention.

Behind the counter, there was someone he’d never seen before.

You wore the standard uniform of the club's staff—white blouse, black slacks, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail—but there was something about you that made him stop in his tracks. You weren’t a kook, that much was clear. And you were new. Way too new by the looks of the growing line.

You were busy, pouring drinks, smiling politely at the members, but he could tell you were nervous from the way you overdid it. It was like you were trying to make yourself small for those people. It didn’t help that they treated you like you were invisible, snapping their fingers or raising their voices to get your attention.

Fucking assholes.

He didn’t know why he felt so irritated all of the sudden. He’d done the same thing times and times again, he was no better than any of them, on a good day. But he hated watching it happen to you. He couldn’t stop staring, he felt creepy as he listed all the little things he noticed about you. Your hands moved quickly, but delicately, as if you took great care in everything you did.

You turned to reach for a bottle on a high shelf and he finally caught a good glimpse of your face—a glimpse that nearly made him drop his golf club on the spot. There was something striking about you. It was in the way your eyes narrowed as you focused on pouring the right amount of alcohol on a drink, and the way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you kept concentrating.

You were beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. He’d seen pretty girls all his life, he made sure he surrounded himself with them. But you? You were something else. 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a genuine curiosity, to know more about someone. He didn’t think about hooking up, about asking for your number. You didn’t belong here and maybe that’s what made you so good.

The shift seemed never-ending, even though it was your first day.

Most of the club members hadn’t even bothered to learn your name —either way, you were having a hard time keeping up. 

You hadn’t wanted to take the job, but you didn’t have much of a choice. The country club was the only place hiring that summer, and you needed the money. Your friend had driven you there earlier that morning, promising to pick you up after your shift. But earlier, when you had glanced at your phone during a ten-second break, you saw a text from her saying she’d been held up—something about the car breaking down.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you handed a gin and tonic to a bald asshole who didn’t even bother to thank you. You were stuck here, away from home, and the last thing you wanted to do was ask one of these people for help.

Your nerves had already skyrocketed. Between the constant drink orders, the lack of polite smiles, and trying your best not to spill anything or offend any of these spoiled kooks, you were losing your mind. Being the center of attention wasn’t your forte, and being behind the bar was giving you a migraine as the members kept barking their orders, complaining when their drinks weren’t perfect, and barely acknowledging your existence.

You could feel their judgmental stupid eyes on you, like you were some sort of animal—a pogue. 

The buzz in your stomach kept getting stronger with every minute.

You wished you could just disappear, but you needed the job and so, you had no option but to take it like a big girl and get used to it. By the end of the day, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for another bottle, your muscles aching from trying to keep up with the endless demands.

As you handed yet another whiskey on the rocks to an ungrateful rich asshole, you noticed someone approaching the bar from the corner of your eye. Unlike the others, he didn’t immediately shout his order or snap his fingers. He just stood there, watching you, a slight smirk on his face.

It was hard not to recognize him—Rafe Cameron. You’d heard stories about him, of course. Everyone in the Outer Banks had. He was practically royalty, the golden boy of one of the wealthiest families around.

You hated being stared at, it made you feel even more out of place than you already did. You could feel your cheeks turning red just from that alone.

“Can I get you something?” you asked, politely yet barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Rafe leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving your face, “What do you recommend?”

He sounded amused. Like he was genuinely enjoying himself. Like he didn’t know this was your first day on the job. You knew he did because everything about him screamed Country Club boy. You hadn’t exactly had time to memorize the menu. But you didn’t want to look like a stupid in front of a kook, let alone kook royalty. 

“Uh, well, the mojitos are pretty popular,” you offered, hoping that was true.

He raised a brow, his smirk widening. “Mojitos, huh? Alright, I’ll take one.”

You nodded and quickly got to work, trying to ignore the way your hands were shaking. As you muddled the mint leaves and squeezed the lime, you could feel his eyes on you.

Jesus, what was his problem with the staring? Was there something on your face? Were you doing this whole thing wrong? It was unnerving. When you finally handed him the drink, he took it with a nod, but instead of walking away, he stayed there, sipping it slowly in front of you, like some kind of test. 

“You’re new here,” he remarked, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yeah, first day.”

He took another sip, “Not a bad start,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

Was he trying to be funny? You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure if he was mocking you or being genuine. Before he could say anything else, another customer called for your attention, and you turned away to help them. 

Rafe didn’t move. Even as you worked, he stayed rooted to his seat. Every time you glanced in his direction, he was still there, watching you, not looking the least bit shameful about it. He left eventually.

By six thirty, the club was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers lingering at the bar and some late-night golfers finishing their rounds. You wiped down the counter one last time, wondering how the hell you were going to get home. You’d almost forgotten about the earlier text from your friend, but now your anxiety was back. 

You didn’t have anyone else to call and walking home alone, at night was terrifying, small town or not. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, praying for another solution to pop into your head, but nothing came.

“Come on, think…” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. It was a mess after being up in a ponytail the entire day but it was starting to give you a headache, so you took it down, hoping it would help you think clearer. It didn't.

Taking a taxi would cost more than you could afford, especially on your shitty bartender’s salary. You were pacing back and forth behind the bar, wondering how your luck had already gone down the drain on your first day working. 

In your panic, you didn’t notice someone else standing outside the glass doors of the clubhouse, watching you with a keen eye. Rafe had finished his round of golf earlier and had been hanging around, talking to a few of his father’s friends. He almost laughed at how stressed you looked but took pity on you when you almost broke down into tears right there and then.

He couldn’t have that.

You didn’t even see him walk up to the door and push it open. The sound of it swinging shut behind him startled you, and you looked up, your eyes widening as he approached you.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t move closer, just stood there by the door, giving you space.

You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath, not exactly hiding how freaked out you were. “I— I’m fine,” you stammered out. You clutched your phone tightly, as if it could somehow find you a safe way home.

Rafe bit his lip, clearly not convinced, “Y’sure about that? Cause you look like you’re two seconds away from a meltdown.”

His words, though blunt, weren’t meant to be harsh. At least you didn’t think they were, but hearing them out loud made you realize just how close you were to losing it publicly, in your workplace. You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“It’s nothing, I just…uh, I don’t have a ride home,” you admitted reluctantly,. “My friend was supposed to pick me up, but her car broke down, and now I’m stuck here.” The last part came out in a rush, as if saying it faster would somehow make it less true.

This felt like the luckiest day in his life.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding almost relieved. “I can take you home, no problem.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “What? No, I— I don’t want to impose, it’s late, and—”

You were so cute it almost made it impossible to scold you.

“You’re not imposing,” Rafe cut you off, “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone, especially at this hour. Just lemme give you a ride, okay?”

You hadn’t imagined him like this. Speaking to you, a pogue so…normally. There was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding. He was just offering help. He sounded nothing like the Rafe you’d heard about.

You hesitated, glancing back at your phone again as if you might find a better solution, but you knew deep down you weren’t finding shit. There was no one else you could call, no other option that made sense. And as much as you hated the idea of relying on someone you barely knew, on a kook of all people, you didn’t feel like sleeping on the streets.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, your voice quiet as you looked up at him. You hadn’t expected him to be so tall, “But just this once.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, “Just this once,” he echoed as he gestured toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He led you to his car, a sleek, black SUV that practically screamed money. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid inside, feeling a bit out of place. You’d never been inside such a luxurious vehicle. The plush leather seats were…something. You sat quietly, too scared to break something as he got in on the driver’s side, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The drive started off in silence. You kept your eyes focused on the road, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were in Rafe Cameron’s car, being driven home by him. It sounded almost delusional. 

After a few minutes, Rafe spoke up “So, where do you live?” he asked, glancing over at you.

He knew you were a pogue, that was a given. But he’d never seen you around before.

You quickly gave him your address, and he nodded, adjusting the GPS on his dashboard. As he did, you couldn’t help but admire how calm and collected he seemed. It was almost unsettling how comfortable he was in situations like this—small talk with strangers, a situation that always has you squirming.  

“Thanks, by the way, I really appreciate it.”

He quickly glanced over at you, “Don’t mention it. It’s no big deal.”

Except it was. You were even prettier up close, and your perfume scent was messing with his head, if it wasn’t for the GPS's stupid robotic voice he’d be lost by now.

It was a big deal to you too. It wasn’t every day that someone like Rafe went out of their way to help someone like you. And the fact that he’d done it without a second thought, without expecting anything in return was very, very confusing. 

“First day at the club, huh?” Was he trying to make small talk with you? Oh wow. His tone was so casual, like this was the most normal conversation in the world, like you two had known each other for years, and weirdly enough, you didn’t mind. “How’d it go?”

You hesitated, not sure how much you should say. Your instinct was to lie and avoid making things awkward. “Oh, it was great,” your voice raised an octave as it always did when you tried to lie your way out of conversations, “Everyone was really nice!”

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road as he let out a low chuckle. “Bullshit.”

Your smile faltered. “W-What?”

“Come on,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I watched you get run ragged by those assholes all day. You looked like you wanted to set the bar on fire.”

You opened your mouth to lie again, but before you could stop yourself, the self righteous girl in you decided to take charge. 

“Okay, fine, it was awful. Those people are the worst. They treat everyone like shit and act like they’re God’s gift to the world just because they’ve got money.” Your voice grew louder as you vented, all the frustration from the day spitting out, “I mean, who the fuck do they think they are? Just because they can afford to spend their summers at a country club doesn’t make them better than everyone else.”

Rafe’s laughter broke through your rant, and you stopped short, suddenly realizing who you were talking to. You turned to look at him, wide-eyed, your heart sinking. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered horrified, hand covering your mouth, “You’re a kook.”

He was laughing so hard that his shoulders shook, his hand gripping the steering wheel as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” he managed to wheeze out between laughs, “You really hate us, don’t you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I didn’t mean you specifically,” you mumbled, your face burning, “I just...I don’t know what came over me.”

Rafe shook his head, still chuckling as he pulled up to a stoplight. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re not wrong about most of them. But, y’know, not all kooks are complete assholes.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, still mortified. “So you’re not an asshole?”

“Oh no, I am,” He snorted, “Just not to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, lowering your hands to your lap, “Good.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was different than you’d imagined—more down-to-earth, less of a caricature of the wealthy villain you’d built up in your mind.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone still light, like he was holding back, trying not to scare you off, “What made you take the job at the club? Guessing it wasn’t for the stellar company.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just needed a job for the summer, and they were the only place hiring.”

“Lucky us,” he said, and when you looked at him, he was giving you that same playful smirk. “You might be the only decent person in that place.”

Your cheeks warmed again, and you had to look away, fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt. “I don’t know about that,” you murmured.

He glanced over, noticing the shy way you avoided his gaze, and his smirk softened. “I do.”

You must’ve hit your head earlier.

Was he flirting with you of all people? He was going to send you into cardiac arrest. You didn’t know how to answer, so you stayed quiet, the silence only broken by the quiet hum of the car’s engine and the GPS’s occasional directions.

When Rafe finally pulled up in front of your house, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt. It felt like you had something more to say, but you weren’t sure what. He seemed to sense it too because he didn’t rush you, just turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, waiting.

You finally turned to him, “Thanks again, Rafe. For everything. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Anytime. Seriously. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

The offer seemed so sincere, so out of character for the guy you’d heard about, that it left you momentarily speechless. He kept proving you wrong. 

“I will.”

With a final nod, you pushed open the door and stepped out, the cool night air hitting you as you closed the door behind you. You took a few steps toward your house before turning back, catching one last glimpse of him sitting there. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened involuntarily when you looked back. He'd offered to drive girls home before—plenty of times, in fact—but this was different. When you waved, he felt like a schoolboy who only got to see his crush at school and spent the entire weekends daydreaming about her. 

Once you walked inside, he leaned back in his seat, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting in his passenger seat, looking so out of place yet so perfect at the same time. Like you belonged right there, next to him. There was something so refreshingly genuine about you. You weren’t like the girls he knew—the ones who flaunted their wealth, who expected the world to bend over backward for them. You were different, unpretentious, and honest in a way that made him feel like he could drop the act for once.

Like he didn’t have to be Rafe Cameron, the reckless, arrogant kook.

No, with you, he could just be Rafe. And that was something he hadn’t realized he was missing until tonight.

He was done for. He knew he wasn’t going to stop until you were his.

The thought of anyone else having you, of you smiling at someone else the way you had at him tonight—it made him want to break someone’s teeth. He had a reputation, and he knew that if you heard even half of the stories about him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him after tonight. But he didn’t care. Because there was something about you that made him want to be better, to be the kind of guy you deserved.

He could already see it—the two of you, together. He’d give you the world, everything you deserved, and more. He’d make sure you never had to worry about a thing. You were perfect, too perfect for this world, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let you slip away. 

He’d make sure of it—you were going to be his girl. And nothing was going to stop him.

[mrsparrasblog]

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

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

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

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

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

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

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

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

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

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

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

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

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

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

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

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

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

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

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted  

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

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

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

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

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

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

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

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

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye  dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

[riki-shenanigans]

lost school ID 🪪

西村 nishimura riki 🐥🐆

he looks so school boy in this photo woah ?!?

〜

genre: teenage angst 🚸, classmates to friends (crushes? ㅠㅠ)

wc: around 1.7k (not my intention 🥹)

warnings: teenage immaturity & swearing, all lowercase

synopsis: riki lends you his school id for school lunch since you forgot yours c;

characters: y/n, riki, kazuha, heeseung, leeseo

〜

my first fic ^_−☆ lmk how you like it! 🩵

you and kazuha are standing in the school lunch line talking about the interesting wall posters you’ve seen around the school the past week.

“I saw a poster of the principal with a snapchat filter near the vending machine this morning” you snicker.

“nah I saw an even funnier one,” kazuha starts, “yesterday I saw a list of funny hoco proposal lines in the boys locker room!” she laughs.

“why were you in the boys locker room?” you hear a laughing voice say.

you glance away from kazuha to see a grinning heeseung and his tall friend group next to you guys.

“oh! bambi boy wants to know what I was doing yesterday?” kazuha turns around facing heeseung with a smirk on her face, taunting him.

heeseung places his arm on the wall behind her, shortening the distance between their faces. kazuha’s eyes widens and stares into his silent, curious brown eyes, taken aback by his actions.

heeseung then turns swiftly on his heels and faces the front of the line, cutting me and kazuha while suppressing a laugh.

then the rest of his friend group shoves next to him, creating a huge social circle in the middle of the lunch line.

only one of his friends stays outside the line, riki.

I notice him looking at us, but I don’t think anything of it. it’s not like he didn’t cut us because he’s some saint, that whole popular guy group is full of bitch-ass boys with insufferable senses of humor. he just refuses to eat school food anymore because it’s ‘nasty shit,’ and he got food poisoning from last week’s suspicious steak cubes.

his blank gaze stays on me, not moving for a second, making me feel a bit uncomfortable and confused, a pink tinge appearing on my cheeks. I look behind me and see that leeseo is standing there, laughing with her other popular friends, looking gorgeous as always.

“oh.” I think, making my stomach drop a little and I return to look at kazuha.

“who does that boy think he is? he’s always messing with me, i’m gonna fucking slap him next time he does that!” kazuha rants.

“that entire group,” I state sourly, rolling my eyes.

a few minutes later, it was just the group of boys in front of us ordering lunch. of course, they were being obnoxiously loud, cackling and spewing dumb jokes. I peer past kazuha’s shoulder and see heeseung carrying a heap of cookies, struggling to scan his school ID. kazuha lends a hand, bringing the barcode of his ID up to the scanner, making a quick beep sound.

“you have $112.50 remaining in your school account,” the lunch lady says.

heeseung flashes a smile at us and clicks his tongue, scurrying away with his treats while catching up with his friends.

kazuha rolls her eyes and scans her ID.

that’s when I realized that I don’t have mine.

“oh shit.. I don’t have my ID zuha” I look at her nervously.

“omg y/n!” she exclaims, “where did you leave it??” she questions sternly.

“I don’t know!!” I say upsettingly.

“here” a deep voice blurts, cutting our banter, making me flinch a little.

I see a firm hand reaching out to me, holding an ID.

I look at the school picture on it, instantly recognizing the cartilage piercing and the firmly pressed together puffy pink lips.

I look up to see riki’s extremely tall figure, one of which I never considered until this moment, standing extremely close to me.

“well?” he spoke, raising an eyebrow after a few moments passed.

I wanted to believe that he was offering a kind gesture, but I couldn’t let a guy like him fool me that easily.

“well what..?” I question meekly, seeing him narrow his eyes.

“i’m letting you use my ID stupid,” he muttered, putting his ID against the scanner with another quick beep.

“oh..-“ I say, turning to thank him, only to see that he had disappeared.

“sorry I was spitting out my gum, wait did you get a lunch?” kazuha says, walking back towards me from the large trash cans.

“yea..” I murmur while walking to our usual lunch spot, with riki’s ID in hand.

soon, we sit down on the cold hard cafeteria benches, immediately feasting on our less-than-healthy chicken tenders.

“so how’d you get a lunch anyways? I thought you forgot your ID somewhere,” kazuha questions while opening her chocolate milk carton.

“someone lent me their ID,” I shrug, trying not to bring much attention to the subject.

“leeseo’s so nice and pretty,” kazuha states while poking at her veggies, assuming leeseo was the person who had lent me their ID.

“she always manages to look well put together,” I add on, pushing down the jealousy slowly sprouting in my mind.

a little bit later 〜

“shit! I’m supposed to be at tutoring right now!” kazuha gasps, shooting up from her seat and quickly gathering her stuff.

“oh-“

“i’ll see you in fourth period y/n!!” she shouts, running off and throwing away her tray.

I glance down, looking at my phone.

“12:15”

I sigh, gathering my stuff to head to the main hall for the second half of lunch.

while stuffing my hoodie into my backpack, riki’s ID flings out onto the table.

“bruh I have to give this back to him,” I groan to myself with a hint of nervousness.

swinging my backpack around my shoulder, I start heading over to the “popular kids area,” near the soccer field.

“I don’t know if I wanna go up to that many people just to give his ID back..” I think to myself, feeling like backing out.

“no, that’s stupid. what type of pussy am I if I can’t give his stupid ID back?” I debate with myself, mustering up the courage to go up to the red tables.

however I stop in my tracks when I see leeseo and her friends sit down at riki’s table.

“ugh..” I breathe, “i’m gonna embarrass myself.”

I get a familiar pit in my stomach and want to get out of this area immediately, but heeseung catches me staring their way before I can.

he elbows riki on his side and raises his hand, waving at me and calling me over.

I scoff again, wanting to ignore his annoying antics, but I reconsider when I see riki’s piercing dark eyes rise from the papers on the table in front of him to meet mine.

I slowly start walking towards their table with caution, fiddling with riki’s ID.

I see heeseung smiling positively, and riki putting his focus back on his work, and leeseo glancing at me confusedly.

“hey where’s kazuha?” heeseung asks excitedly.

“um she's-“

“I wanna ask her something,” he states, smiling even bigger.

“ayeee ask her what?”

“heeseung tryna shoot his shot?”

the table starts a commotion, teasing heeseung and questioning him.

everyone but riki, who is still focused on his paper, with furrowed eyebrows and those same narrowed eyes from earlier.

I move from heeseung’s view and walk over to riki’s side.

“struggling on the algebra homework?” I chuckle, teasing him because everyone else finished it during the end of last class.

“haha yeah. it sucks ass,” he laughs dryly, continuing to struggle, not lifting his head up once.

trying to relieve the awkwardness, I say, “by the way, thanks for letting me use your id,” placing the neatly wrapped up lanyard next to his hand, making leeseo look over at us.

before I can remove my hand, he places his larger yet comforting hand over mine, turning over to me.

“are you l/n y/n?” he asks, surprising me.

I stay quiet, shocked at his random question, and at the fact that he weirdly knows my full name.

“I found your ID in the vending machines this morning,” he states, pulling out a scratched up card from his pocket, extending his hand towards my face.

he squints one eye and looks back and forth between the school photo on the ID and my face, making my heart race.

“I couldn’t tell if it was you earlier..” he starts while getting up from his seat, bringing his face close to mine.

again, his same tall figure is hovering over me, except this time he’s carefully looking at my face. I gulp, staring back into his focused eyes, trying not to break eye contact.

“but I can tell it’s you now,” he softly smiles, giving me my ID with a subtle (super) cute look on his face.

“thanks,” I state softly, still surprised at what just happened. “damn his smile..” I think to myself.

my heart is racing faster than before, and I freeze, not knowing what to do from there, just examining riki’s perfect features, taking note of his moles, feeling his light breaths fan over my face as he doesn’t take his hand off mine.

that’s before leeseo interrupts my daydreaming.

“aww that’s so nice of you riki!” she stated as if she was announcing it to everyone outside.

me and riki immediately drop our hands and turns to look at her.

feeling slightly embarrassed now that it felt like everyone was looking at me, I moved my eyes down to look at the ID in my hands, avoiding anyone else’s eyes.

“shut up leeseo” riki utters, sitting back down in his seat, his usual harsh demeanor returning.

surprised by riki’s reaction, she looks back at me with a judging look.

“don't lose your ID again!” she mocks, giving a small wave as she continues the conversation to whatever it was before.

her smile that I was envious of just a bit ago starts to burn itself into my brain and twists my stomach.

I scoff lightly under my breath, backing up and turning around to find kazuha inside the school building.

“see you around y/n,” riki turns in his seat and says, giving a small smile to me.

I give the same smile back, feeling some butterflies starting to form as I continue walking back inside.

〜

THANK U SM FOR READING I LOVE U ☹️💞

TMI!! im ngl.. I had a dream of this happening with a guy at my school 💀 as soon as I woke up that morning, I wrote the idea in my notes app LOL

I hope you enjoyed! :)

merry late christmas ☃️🎄 💗

[abbysbunny]

BIRDS DON'T SING

plot: being your school's soccer team water girl means you've met a lot of girls but only one caught your eye

warnings: some cursing, fluff

word count: 0.6k

notes: okay this is my first series, I'm pretty excited!! there's not gonna be a schedule but the chapters should come out a couple days after the last! okay I hope you enjoy part one!🫶🏼

you have your dream role the soccer team, technically you weren't on the soccer team but you were close enough! you were the water girl, you got to sit down and watch them play and at the end give them some water, perfect excuse to gawk at the finest girls in the school, but one person had caught your attention, hazel callahan.

it was a warm spring day, you sat on the bleachers as you let the sun cover your body, wrapping you in it's heat, the team came jogging out and they all waved to you, you waved right back and warmly smiled at them.

they all started stretching, like you always do you just leaned back and watched, after 10 minutes of boring stuff they all started kicking the ball around, or whatever you do in soccer, all you knew is that you we're rooting for hazel.

when the practice game was over you headed down to the first step and started to dispense the water into the small plastic cups, they all came quickly running over to you, you handed out the cups to each player, when hazel came jogging over you filled up her cup.

'hey, can I have some water?' she wiped her forehead and put her hand on her hips, you snickered and passed her her cup, 'there's no need to ask hazel, I'm here to give water to you guys' she chuckled and sipped on her water, 'maybe I just want an excuse to talk to you' she joked or maybe flirted?

you laughed and nodded, 'well you don't need an excuse to talk me hazel' you turned around and started to pack your bag as it seemed like the conversation was over, 'good to know' she slid her hands on your shoulder and patted one, you felt your face burn up and you packed your bag quicker.

she took her hands off of you and walked away with the a cocky grin, leaving you feeling like a nerdy middle schooler with a crush on the popular girl.

the next day was the same, sit, watch, wait, fill the water cups and give them out, but this time something was different, hazel waited till you were packing up to get water, she tapped your shoulder, you flinched before heading hazel chuckle, you turned around a bit annoyed that she would ask for water after almost everyone was gone.

'what's up' she scratched her arm and cleared her throat, was she...nervous? 'uhm can I ask you a question?' you instinctively grabbed a cup but she shook her head before you could fill it with water, you put the cup back down and sighed, 'okay well if you don't want water what's the question?' you leaned against the short table behind you, 'would you I don't know, wanna go on a date with me?' she questioned her voice almost cracking mid phrase

did hazel callahan the best soccer player on the team just ask you the water girl, on a date? your eyes widened and you slightly choked on your own saliva, it took you a moment to register what she had just asked you, when you realized that this was real, you enthusiastically nodded, 'uhm yeah of course' you awkwardly smiled

'great I'll pick you up at six thirty, text me your address okay?' you slinged your bag over your shoulder, 'yeah of course, I'll uhm see you later I guess' you lightly tripped over your words, she grinned and waved at you while walking off, you started walking towards the opposite end of the field to the other exit of the school, holy shit you have a date with hazel fucking callahan!

[ponyosmom35]

fighting with price and ghost

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter six!

summary: reader gets herself into yet another mess, Price has had enough.

warnings: cursing, angry price, blood, angry ghost, Johnny is a sweetheart

Liability masterlist:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Two days after her concerning dream things had been quiet. 141 had been on a mission and for a measly 48 hours she wasn’t being tortured with Ghost’s presence. Emma had been correct, there were rumors spreading amongst the other soldiers that she was sleeping with Ghost, which was why she never got in trouble for her behavior. They also speculated that Ghost was the reason she was on the base to begin with. She was fortunrate enough to overhear a couple people discussing her in the bathroom. She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but of course, she didn’t.

“Exactly why the fuck is my name in your mouth?” she asks emerging from the stall, watching as their faces contort in shock. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You seem to have a fucking halo on your head, you get away with everything! You’ve got Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost somehow wrapped around your finger!”

“Jesus what is with you people! In case you didn’t know, Ghost hates me! He’s been pushing to get me off of the base since I got here! Soap and Gaz are friends” she defends 

“And Price?” the girl asks 

“It must be his dick that she’s sucking” another sneers 

“Fuck you!” she says as she pushes her back

“No fuck you bitch” the brunette responds, shoving her to the ground “unlike you, we’ve had to earn our place here!” 

“Soldiers what is the meaning of this?!” a loud voice roars, they all turn their faces falling at the sight of Price standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Thought I heard trouble” 

The two soldiers stand up stragight and she scrambles to her feet, staring at him, waiting for his words. He was livid, angrier than she’d ever seen. “Ladies I want you to give me ten laps, once you’re finished come to my office. You, come with me now” 

The girls hurry out of the bathroom and jog outside, not without sparing her with death glares. Price nods his head to her and leads her into his office, he shuts the door behind them and pulls out the chair for her to sit in. 

“Captain-” she starts 

“Stop” he responds, holding his hand up. “Why is it that you are the center of every fucking mess on my base?”

“I don’t know sir”

“Listen kid, I’ve given you a pass, that’s more than most. I know this has been an adjustment for you, but I will not tolerate that behavior from here on out, you wil be treated and punished just as anyone else”

“I understand sir”

“I like you kid, you’re good at your job and you’re a valuable asset to us, but I can’t understand why you continuously start issues?” 

“Do you want me to be honest?” she asks crossing her arms 

“I do”

“People think that I’m here because I’m sleeping with Ghost, they all talk behind my back”

“Fucking hell, of course they’re gonna talk about you! You walk around this base like you own it, like your shit doesn’t stink and you think that you’re gonna be miss popular? This is the fucking army! You are here to do your job not make freinds! I could give a damn if every person on this base hates you! This petty bullshit has no place here. I won’t tolerate it, this is your last warning. One more incident and I’m calling Laswell, do you understand me?” Price asks, staring at her intensely. 

“Yes Sir”

“Fucking hell” he shakes his head “Ghost was injured on our mission, get out of my office and patch him up” he snaps 

“Right away sir” 

She scrambles out of his office with tears stinging in her eyes. She knew he was right, she needed to stop entertaining the bullshit. Despite his harsh words, she knew that he meant well. Maybe it was just what she’d been needing to here this whole time. It was true, she’d someone survived two instances with Ghost without punishment. All of it was catching up to her now as she tried to mentally prepare herself to deal with Ghost. If Price was in such a sour mood, she couldn’t imagine he’d be much happier. Phoebe sighs and grabs her kit from the med bay, walking over to Ghosts office. She knocks on his door gently waiting for a response. 

“What?” he snaps 

“Medical, can I come in”

“You’re not needed!” he growls through the door. She takes a deep breath and twists the knob, peaking her head in. 

“Captain Price sent me -”

“I don’t give a fuck who sent you”

She frowns at his harsh words, feeling the lump in her throat return. She swallows and moves over to his desk, setting her things on it. “Did you not hear me the first time? You are not needed!” 

“I can see that” she responds sarcastically, staring at his bleeding arm, which he was clearly in the middle of working on. “Let me help you” she says softly 

“I don’t need medical, even if I did I sure as fuck wouldn’t let you touch me!” he yells as he throws her kit on the ground, all of the contents splattering to the floor. She flinches at the sound and stares at him as she processes the situation. She was scared to move, worried that it might make it worse. 

“Fucking get out of my office” he growls 

She bends down and begins picking up her supplies, her hands shaking and making it hard for her to put her things back. She slopily throws it back inside her case, feeling the intense burn of his eyes on her, examining her every move. She stands to her feet and hurries out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She stumbles and drops her things once more. She curses herself as she bends down and picks her tools up once more. Her eyes blurring as tears fall down her face. 

“You alright lass?” 

She looks up to see Johnny walking towards her with a large wound on his face. He bends down and helps her pick up the fallen tools and offers his hand to help her stand. “Johnny what happened?”

“LT and I got cornered, no biggie” he responds nonchalantly, he places his hand on her shoulder looking at her in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“nothing” 

“Obviosuly it ain’t nothin if you’re cryin” he says before pulling her into his arms. He pats her back gently as she hugs his middle. Neither of them aware of the lieutenant’s gaze on them. Ghost clenches his hand and punches the wall. He knew he shouldn’t have treated her like that, he felt awul. She’d managed to catch him at the worst time, nothing he hated more than looking vulnerable. Now Johnny was the one to pick up the pieces. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much to watch her cling onto his sergeant. The sight made his stomach twist. Ghost stomps over to the window and shuts the curtains aggressively. He yanks his mask off and throws it against the wall, gritting his teeth as his arm throbs. 

Johnny pulls away at the loud bang and keeps an arm wrapped around her shoulder, he leads her away from the office, carrying her kit. She wipes her tears, and pulls herself together in an instant. 

“Lets get you to medical, don’t want that to get infected” she responds as she leads him to an empty bed. 

“I’ll take it that the mission didn’t go well” she comments as she washes her hands and puts gloves on. Johnny nods, impressed that she was abel to snap out of it so easily, never would he have been able to tell she was just crying if it wasn’t for her red eyes. 

“You could say that” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks as she begins to clean out his wound 

“Nothing major, just got cornered. Didn’t think we were gonna make it out but Ghost saved us, even with a bullet wound to the shoulder. Probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him” Johnny explains. 

“I’m glad everyone made it out”

“Yeah… listen I don’t know what Ghost said in there, but don’t take it to heart. He ain’t a bad guy, just under a lot of pressure, him and Price”

“I don’t blame him, often times the person whose trying to help is the one who takes the brunt of the anger. Something I’ve gotten used to working with soldiers” 

“We’re not all so bad” he smiles cheekily 

“We’ll see how you feel when I put this spray on your cut” she responds, earning a chuckle from him. Thankful for the man who always seemed to be able to put a smile on her face, just when she needed it. 

chapter 7:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/752479625563815936/apologies?source=share

[whyareyouhere66]

JJ Maybank x Male Reader - Safe With Me

JJ Maybank x Male !kook! Reader

Request [shortened, it was very in depth and I don’t want to spoil too much] : “male reader is a popular kook…and best friends with Sarah and Kie…and he has a rough family they are super rich but his dad doesn't like him to being gay…also JJ and the reader act like a couple and they like each other but don’t realize it cause they like what they got…[main event you’ll have to read]…then they make it official.”

CW: hurt/comfort, homophobia/homophobic family, the slightest mentions of drinking, kinda cheesy towards the end, y/n’s dad sucks

x

Love;

[noun]

An intense feeling of deep affection

“Y’think we can make a quick pit stop before we go and do, well, whatever this is?”

The voice woke Y/n up before the sun even could, though his eyes were still close to shutting. It was Pope’s voice, of course- his sarcasm leaking through his words.

On the couch, Y/n had one arm stretched out next to his face to act as a pillow, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun just enough for him to not be blinded. 

A few feet behind the couch, Pope walked over to the small round table where John B sat with Sarah. Papers were scattered across the wooden surface, the girl’s feet propped up on the edge. 

“Eh, sure why not- hey, pass me a beer, will you?” John B said, nodding towards the fridge behind Pope’s chair. 

“It’s 7 in the morning.”

“Yeah, well, early bird gets the worm, or whatever.”

Pope rolled his eyes, but sure enough got up again to open the fridge.

The sound of a can being tossed, and the rattle of the fridge door closing made Y/n groan. He just wanted to sleep, he was comfortable on the lumpy couch with JJ’s warmth beside him. 

The night before they’d fallen asleep side by side, nothing new for either of them. JJ’s head was settled just below Y/n’s arm-pillow, just slightly pressed against his chest while their legs overlapped. When the sound continued on, his friends still talking across the room, he shifted in his spot and let his free arm fall on JJ’s shoulders.

Y/n would’ve smiled at the sight of the blonde settled so close to him, but the voices that rang out behind him were so loud. 

He just wanted to go back to sleep-

“Aw, did we interrupt your sleep?” Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed.

 ‘Wonderful’

Sarah was grinning at him, seeing how his face had changed. 

“Let’s go, up and at ‘em.” John B joined right in, drumming on the table just loud enough to force Y/n’s eyes open, and stir JJ just a bit.

It was then when the sun finally hit him, groaning again and rubbing his eyes. “You guys are so loud.” Y/n complained, lifting his head and looking around the room. 

Kiara lay sprawled out on the arm chair across from the couch, rubbing her eyes and glaring at Pope and John B. “Seriously guys? This early?” She asked  sleepily, falling against the chair again. 

It was clear the other 3 couldn’t care less, Pope ignoring the sleeping teens while John b and Sarah were getting up from the table to bug them some more. 

The blonde girl walked to the chair, standing over Kie and grinning widely. Back at the couch, John B walked past the half asleep pair, drummed against their legs once, before looping around back to the kitchen.

The slaps to their calves caused both Y/n and JJ to jerk, the latter doing so more loudly as he was only then waking up. 

“What the fuck dude.” he grumbled, shoving his face back against the couch while Y/n rolled over onto his back. 

At that point, all 6 of them were awake- whether it be willingly or not. It was simply a part of the Chateau’s morning routine, something you sign up for when falling asleep at John B’s. The alarm would be just as obnoxious as the host. 

Y/n pressed the heel of his free hand into his eyes, hiding them from the sun. The other arm was still stuck under JJ’s neck. “What time is it?” He asked, to which Pope responded.

“7:32.”

 Y/n groaned. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, clumsily sitting up from his spot on the couch. 

“Pops’ll be mad?” JJ sighed sarcastically, and watched Y/n’s figure as the boy stumbled off the couch to grab his shoes. 

“Don’t leave me man-“ he gasped out dramatically, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile. Reaching over the couch, he ruffled the blonde hair on JJ’s head.

“Oh, this is heartbreaking.” Kie faked a frown and put a hand over her heart.

 The two boys had always been close, everyone knew that. They each cared for each other in a way that neither could truly describe, any words used felt wrong, or perhaps too soon for them to say. 

So they didn’t try the words, they stuck to their bond even if it got them the “idiot-boyfriends-who-aren’t-even-boyfriends” label in the group.

Y/n himself felt the smile growing, opening the door that lead out to the porch.

“Bye, JJ” he called jokingly, getting a “bye Y/n” right back, the words holding the same tone that his had. 

It wasn’t until he was entirely out of the house that he let his mind wander, only having 10 minutes time before his car would reach his drive way- where the smile he wore would disappear. 

****

Greed; 

[noun]

Intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or food.

A day had passed since Y/n unfortunately had to leave the Chateau early, and it wouldn’t be long before he was back in the car with his closest friends, with JJ.

The h/c teen sat on his scratchy, leather couch- it’s black color popping out against the light walls. 

He sat there, leaned against the armrest scrolling through his phone as he waited for the Pogues to come and pick up him and Sarah. Across the room, his father- D/n L/n sat at the dining room table.

The man’s face was very stern, lips formed into a  thin line as he stared holes into his computer screen. A few papers were in a pile, his hand resting on top - the focus leaking from his eyes leaving no breathing room, no space for him or Y/n to talk. 

The latter looked up from his phone, glancing at the stairs where Sarah left for the bathroom 5-ish minutes ago. The sooner she came down, the sooner he’d have an excuse to leave the room. 

Slowly, he let his gaze wander. 

It shifted from the long staircase, over the walls until it was set on the man at the table. His eyes narrowed.

Greed and love. 

It was a relationship never fit to work, though it can still find itself intertwined into bloodline. Two opposing forces sitting on the same branch of the family tree, living in the same house. One on the couch, one at the table. 

Y/n always preferred to differentiate himself from greed.

Being born a Kook, he accepted his privilege. But he saw what greed looked like, he lived with it. And he knew, from the nasty snarl worn on his father’s skin, that it was something he never wanted to be.

The boy stared at his father until the edges of his vision began to dance. So, he looked away, eyes going back to his phone screen. He didn’t want to think about it anymore than he had to. 

The time read 12:09, him and Sarah were to get picked up at 12:15. Y/n stood up, tucking his phone into his pocket so while Sarah took her time upstairs, he could at least get some of the stuff he needed. 

Starting with his keys, he grabbed them from the coffee table and stuck them into his pocket. He moved towards the fridge next- but the noise that had come from his key chain caught his fathers attention. 

“Going somewhere?” D/n asked, just as Y/n had opened the fridge door. 

“…yeah.” The h/c looked straight forward, the blue-ish light flooding his face as he grabbed a water bottle. 

“And where would that be?” 

Y/n’s father hadn’t looked away from his work, though Y/n couldn’t tell either way as he was staring straight into the fridges’s shelves.

“Just out, nothing special.”

He  eventually had to draw away from the fridge where he’d been hiding. The silver door closed after him, and Y/n turned to see his father looking right at him. 

“Just you and Sarah?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow and resting his elbow on the back of his chair. 

Y/n’s face faltered. He knew who his father was referencing, what he was getting at. 

“No” he thought, saying it in his head over and over until maybe, he could say it out loud.

“Doesn’t matter.”

…or not. 

Admittedly, he didn’t want his father to know. He selfishly wanted his friends to be his own thing- because when his father even caught sight of them, it would become a disruption. 

D/n had the belief that Kooks and Pogues shouldn’t interact unless absolutely necessary- he was just “too good” for them, after all. He worked so life ran on his own personal railroad, and Y/n’s friends were nothing but roadblocks. 

“Oh, but I think it does.” D/n narrowed his eyes at his son, who looked away with his head tilted towards the floor. Y/n fidgeted with the bottle in his hands- his father was onto him. They each had one specific boy in mind at that current moment, and by the look in each others eyes, they each knew it.

“Hey! Sorry about that, Wheezie called me.”

 Sarah landed on the last step just as Y/n was released in from his father’s stare. She looked up from her phone, not catching how D/n had to adjust to return to his computer screen. 

Y/n quickly walked to her, giving her a smile when she quirked her eyebrow. 

“Hey, took you long enough.” He joked, sitting back on the couch. Sarah rolled her eyes and shrugged. 

“Just say you missed me, it takes less time.” She says, plopping down onto the chair. 

Y/n laughed, letting his shoulders relax as Sarah had joined him in the room. He opened his mouth to reply, fire some sort of comeback, but a small ding came from his phone.

‘We’re here, hurry up JJ’s about to rob your neighbor.’

The text came from Kie. Y/n peered over his phone and caught a glimpse of her car outside the window, catching a small smile on his face. Sarah followed his eyes and saw the car, grinning and nodding at the boy to get up. 

Sparing one last glance to his father, Y/n followed Sarah out the door. 

“Hey hey!” 

As soon as Y/n stepped foot outside his door, JJ was jumping right out of the parked car- of course. With a grin, Y/n hopped down the stairs and jogged to meet him in the middle.

“What’s up JJ-“ he said, his voice almost giddy, and he wrapped his arms around him. There was a slight slap on his back as JJ hugged him back, and a tickle in his neck as that’s where JJ buried his nose. 

“Waiting for you, I was about to hop the fence and visit old Richie over there-“ JJ’s voice turned breathy at the end of the sentence, spinning on his heel and bringing the boy in his arms right with him. Y/n’s eyes widened, and a laugh rumbled from his throat. His arms tightened around the boy, securing himself when his feet left the ground. 

“Holy shit dude-“

“JJ, put him down.” John B sounded tired, managing no more than an eye roll when JJ only laughed. Though, he did drop Y/n onto the sidewalk right next to him. The boy, with his feet finally planted on the ground, patted the back of the blondes back.

“C’mon, let’s head out-“

“Y/n.” 

The deep voice sent chills down the teen’s spines, each of them recognizing who it was. The joyful feeling that tainted the air only seconds ago suddenly faded into tension.  Y/n himself was forced to hesitantly turn, and meet his fathers cold eyes. 

“Come here.” The glare that emitted off D/n’s stern figure made his son shudder- the boy really just wanted to leave. 

“Dad, we’re going somewhere-“ 

“I thought we talked about this?” One eyebrow raised, turning D/n’s face into one of judgement. Y/n swallowed.

“I mean, there was never really an agreement, so-“

The next look that came from D/n was one of warning. 

A small lump formed in Y/n’s throat, swallowing it down and air huffed from his nose. 

“Mr. L/n, we were really just-“ Kiara, bold as always, tried and failed to reassure her friends father. Her words got cut off before she could even finish, the deep voice replacing them. “No, no I know. And it’s not happening.” 

Y/n felt his skin itch, why was his father doing this in front of his friends?  Before he would go out of his way to avoid them, but now he talked freely. Y/n’s eyes flickered to the car, having half a mind to run and jump into the back seat before another word could spill. 

“Dad-“

“Y/n, look at the neighbors,” his fathers voice rose, “their son is your age, what about that?” He gestured towards the large, nearly identical house across the garden. His other hand gripped the door handle tightly, as if he was prepared to storm back inside at any moment. 

The group tensed, they knew what his father meant, even if he hadn’t said it directly. Though while John B and Pope bit their tongue, Kiara stepped forward with a deadly glare imprinted onto her face. 

“What are you implying?” She asked, clearly having taken offense. Y/n looked at her, battling with himself in his head as to whether or not he should stop her. John B’s hand landed on her shoulder, urging her to step back.

Y/n’s eyes are torn away when he suddenly felt the familiar warmth of JJ’s hand grabbing his. His eyes widen. 

“Shit.”

He nearly pulled away, but something made him stay, something in him wanted to. Though the second his fathers cold stare landed on their tangled fingers, he questioned that decision. 

JJ glared harshly at Y/n’s father- but no words fell, as he still was trying to decide if he should say anything at all. But in that moment, it was better that he didn’t.

Y/n was frozen in his place, head tilted down to stare at his hand and JJ’s, too scared to look up. 

“And what’s this, huh?”

‘No.’

“Are we still on this, are you serious?”

The words tugged the strings of Y/n’s heart, hearing such words from his own father, being watched by all his friends, by the boy he could only secretly love. He glared at the ground, shaking his head. 

“It’s-“

“You just-“ D/n turned, facing the wooden frame of the door and rubbing his eyes, “this is not how I wanted to raise you.”

The words ran Y/n’s throat dry, like a river drowned into soil by hot sun. JJ felt the way his hand tightened, heard the shaky sigh that escaped him.

Kiara, once more, stepped forward boldly. “You can’t say that to him!” She rasped, eyebrows pulled into a deep furrow. JJ too found his voice quickly, barking out a “hey!” 

“Mr L/n,” Sarah’s whisper barely scraped past the lump in her throat, only heard by her boyfriend. 

As Y/n stood there on his own walkway, all the words of his friends fizzled against his ears in an echo. He stared at the ground until he became dizzy, nothing but his fathers voice reaching past his ears. 

He didn’t want to fit his fathers description. But it still hurt. 

He snapped out of the daze when JJ began moving, their joined hands swaying. 

“The fuck is your problem, man?” JJ’s voice was heavy with anger, challenging D/n with his voice. Y/n’s eyes darted to JJ’s face.

“Excuse me, young man?” The authority that rattled from Y/n’s father would’ve made anyone else back away, but JJ only seemed to move closer. Y/n watched on with wide eyes. 

“JJ,” he tried, suddenly becoming aware of what exactly was happening right next to him. 

“You talk to him like that then wonder why he likes hanging with us? Man you must be joking-“ the blonde seethes. 

“Do not talk to me like that,”

“You’re a real piece of shit.” 

John B pulled JJ back, giving him a stern look. Pope, backing towards the car, mouthed at him to shut up. 

Y/n’s heart pounded, staring only at JJ. What was he doing?

D/n’s head snapped to his son’s.

“If this is how you’re going to be, dont try coming home.”

Y/n reeled back, shocked. JJ stomped forward. 

“Good, he’ll stay with me. You’re only helping me here, man.” 

It got quiet for a moment after that. 

Angrily, Y/n’s father looked at him expectantly, telling him to choose with nothing more than his eyes.

Y/n’s lips were parted, staring right back at his father for the first time that whole argument. JJ’s arm snakes around his shoulder.

“He’ll be safe with me.”

Those last words are what settled it for Y/n, the only thing he needed to hear before he knew. He knew exactly what, who, he wanted. 

Wordlessly, he turned away from his father and pulled JJ into a tight hug. No hesitation followed as JJ pulled him even closer. 

Behind them, the door slammed shut, and Y/n knew that was it. Yet for just a moment, when JJ pulled away and held his face in his hands, he pushed the thought away. 

“I promise.” The blonde whispered with a small smile . Y/n smiled back, unable to stop himself for he knew what he truly meant by those words. 

The smile broke into a sniffle and a chuckle, feeling Kiara attacking him from behind with a strong hug. Sarah followed.

“Fuck, guys, I don’t know what to do now-“ he kept the smile through his teary eyes. 

“We’ll figure it out, man.” Pope told him from the car. “We always do.”

[kimbapisnotsushi]

going insaneeeee pls give us more stz / semiten hcs 🙏🙏

anon i would be HONORED to!!!!

semiten get together because ushijima doesn't realize that tendou's feelings are supposed to be a secret

not that he like. outright tells semi i just mean that ushijima sets them up a lot bc of it

semi: "yeah so the record shop is doing this exhibit downtown over the weekend, and—" ushijima: "tendou would be happy to go with you. you should ask him" semi: ". . . what"

ushijima is the number one semiten wingman without even realizing it honestly

also despite tendou's tendencies to wreak havoc i think he and semi are a super lowkey quiet couple when it comes down to it!! they probably get a lot of "you guys are dating??? it doesn't look like it" comments from other people tbh but they don't care, as long as they know each other's intentions then it's fine <3

the only times they do pda is when tendou particularly wants to rub it into someone's face that he's got the most amazing boyfriend in the world or just wants to brag about semi in general. especially if someone is being really annoying ABOUT semi

some asshole: "yeah i don't know why semi's so popular, it's not like he's anything special-" tendou, grabbing semi's hand: "oh would you look at that my SUPER-HOT and SUPER-SWEET boyfriend offered to get me boba!! isn't he so nice??? isn't he the best??? everyone else should learn from you or they might get broken up with. come on eita let's go before they close :3"

and then he gives the most cutting glare to said asshole because he knows for a fact that said asshole refused to buy anything from the vending machines for his gf when she asked

(GOD now i'm thinking about a fic where tendou realizes his feelings for semi + confesses bc other students keep going to him for help to confess to semi and tendou's like "well of COURSE so many people like him he'd be a great boyfriend! wait—")

anyways when they get to the boba shop tendou is the one who treats as compensation for dragging semi into his scheme

OH ALSO if ushijima gets all of tendou's pining and yearning and ranting then reon and yamagata gets semi's :333

it's worse for reon actually because i champion the "reon and tendou roomies" hc which means he goes back to his dorm room at the end of the day after listening to semi and has to face tendou . . . he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders

any time a classmate says some rich kid shit that pisses shirabu off he's like "i should have fucking gone to karasuno" under his breath and the first time tendou hears him say it, tendou laughs so hard he almost passes out

goshiki's obsessed with gacha machine collections. once he chooses a series he's going to do his best to get all of them. right now he's working his way through collecting an ice cream float series where all of the colors are violently neon gradients

(yes this is bc i saw an ice cream float one in real life. yes they were very pretty and i regret not giving it a chance)

the others help him out too!!! whenever they see a machine that has it and goshiki isn't there they always take a chance for him. shirabu got him a new one for his collection and was like "ugh here i don't understand the point of all this but it's useless to me anyways i know you've been looking for it" bc he wouldn't know being emotionally vulnerable if it socked him in the face. and then goshiki almost cried

he won't say it but that's his favorite one

what does goshiki do with them you ask??? uhhh. good question

he keeps the ones he doesn't use on his desk!! otherwise he puts them on his phone or backpack or whatever. and whenever he gets extras he passes them on to other people!!

he becomes really well-known amongst his classmates for being the gachapon items dealer LMAO

i think yamagata is also really really good at all other sports as opposed to, like, the others who are only really good at volleyball. he always dominates during the sports festival and also causes beef with like every other sports team at shiratorizawa

kawanishi hates the uniforms. he's like the shoujo high school romance rebel bad boy cliche come to life when it comes to the shiratorizawa uniforms. he'll leave them untucked and wrinkled and he'll shed them like snake skin the second he can. it's stiff and heavy and hot and he HATES it okay he wasn't built for this!!

on that note i think he and semi share similar fashion tastes!! they go shopping together a lot and hence kawanishi hears all of semi's lamenting about shirabu

look i truly really genuinely do believe semi tries. but shirabu makes it so HARD.

give me the fluffy slice-of-life comedy where semi tries to become Mentor of the Year and wears down shirabu's walls like sandpaper. i just think it'd be really fucking funny you know???

hold on . . . i have things to plan now . . .

[smileydk]

The Town Weirdo

Pairing: Misfit!Wooyoung x Popular!Reader

Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a misfit. He didn't look different, he didn't dress too differently, he didn't act different, someone just decided that he didn't fit into the frame, and everyone hopped on the idea. Everyone except one, who didn’t want to judge before knowing both sides of a story.

cw/tw: bullying, harsh language, mental and physical abuse, domestic violence, fluffy, angst, mentions of rape and kidnapping

They acted as if he didn't existed. They all thought that maybe if they don't think about him, he'd disappear. He was like a bogger in the school's nose, like an eyelash in your eye. Simply there to annoy, never to do any good.

Even the adults treated him like nothing.

He was never called on in class, even if he raised his hand. He rarely ever got his tests back, grades would be shit because they didn't like him.

He hadn't done anything to be hated. He had always kept to himself, he'd always studied, he was (technically) a straight A-student, he'd never done anything to offend anyone.

He always wore an oversized, black hoodie, black, baggy cargo pants and a pair of purple air Jordans. Occasionally the hoodie would change color, but mostly he wore all black. He fit into the school's fashion perfectly.

Yet, for whatever reason, the football team decided that since everyone hated him, why not make his life fucking miserable? His life wasn't hard enough already, with everyone avioding him like the plague.

A young girl, no older than 5 years, had gone missing a few months ago. In such a small town news traveled fast. Everyone knew about her disappeareance.

At first everyone were worried, everyone looked for her. But as time passed and nothing was found, people needed someone to put the blame on. So why not choose the most hated boy in town?

Jung Wooyoung.

He had nothing to lose anyways.

''You know the girl who disappeared? He probably took her. He's probably a little pervert. He probably got her locked up in her basement and uses her whenever he feels the urge to''

Comments like these were almost normalized in the small town. Something that didn’t sit right with one girl.

She couldn't understand what he ever did to be hated, even by his own mom. She'd seen him sleeping on a bench, outside an old and abandoned restaurant.

She felt bad for him. Her own family was of high status in the town. They were rich and donated a lot of money to the small hospital, the two schools and such.

Kim Jiwoo, the youngest in the whole family, had always been rather open minded. She never liked judging people by others words. She wanted to know him, not what everyone thought about him.

She sighed as she heard her "friends" talking about the boy once more. They weren't really her friends, they simply hung out with her because of money and status, and they never had anything kind to say about anyone but themselves and Jiwoo.

''Hey, do you actually think he keeps her in his basement?'' Ara asked in an amused tone, knowing very well that Wooyoung heard her.

''Yeah, of course he does'' Hana replied in even more amused tone as she noticed that Wooyoung posture changed slightly. ''He’s a pervert. He probably keeps her in the basement, has her way with her when he wants, and he probably keeps pictures of her in his phone and rubs one out while watching it''

''I hope he falls down a well and withers away, alone in the dark'' Ara finished before they both started cackling.

Jiwoo let out a tired sigh and turned around in her seat. ''Would both of you shut up? There's no concrete evidence that Wooyoung's done shit, and how would you feel if people spread a rumour about you murdering someone? Or raping? Or kidnapping?''

Minho, the quarterback smirked. He heard the whole conversation since he literally sat next to Jiwoo. Jiwoo'd just assumed that he never listened to them.

''Challenge accepted!''

Jiwoo turned to the boy. ''A) Did you just Barney Stinson me? B) What challenge?''

''I'm gonna steal Wooyoung's phone and prove that he's a pervert!''

Jiwoo sighed. She decided, for once, to take action instead of being all talk. So she stood up, in the middle of the teacher's introduction, and walked over to Wooyung's desk.

The corner in the back.

''Can I sit here?''

The boy looked up from the desk, on which he was currently carving a face, since no one cared what he did anyways. He looked confused. Why would someone wanna sit with him?

He mumbled a quiet ''sure'' and put away the knife and sat up straight.

He knew carrying a knife around and carving shit into the furniture didn't exactly support his attempt on proving himself innocent, but after a while he stopped caring about what everyone thought about him.

''Do you wanna hang out after school?'' Jiwoo asked, still that gorgeous, model smile on her lips.

Wooyoung felt a bit ashamed as he stared at her lips. He wondered what they’d feel like. What they’d taste like.

''Why would you wanna hang out with me?'' He asked and turned his attention back to his little carving.

Jiwoo shrugged. She didn’t know why. She was simply a social butterfly. And he intrigued her.

''I like being social. You intrigue me for some reason, and you’re the only person in the school who doesn’t kiss my ass for status and money ''

''Well, sorry little miss daddy's Princess, but that ain’t gonna happen, ever''

The girl realized how it sounded. ''No! I didn’t mean it like that. I like that you don’t do it. To be honest, I don’t really have any real friends''

Wooyoung let out a sarcastic laugh. ''Oh yeah? Couldn’t daddy’s money buy you some?''

That was it for Jiwoo. Here she was, being as nice as humanly possible when you don’t know someone, especially when there’s a rumor that he’d murdered someone and another one stating that he’d kidnapped and raped a five year old girl.

She always tried to keep the judgement low, or non-existent. But anyone would be kind of concerned with a murder rumour. She thought she was doing a great job at being nice, yet he treated her like a piece of shit.

''Listen here you fucking asshole, I came over here to try and be nice. I wanted to prove to the town that you’re not some weirdo, kidnapping rapist, but apparently you hate everyone, and I can’t judge you, but I have never done shit to you. In fact, when we were in 4th grade, I beat up Dae for bullying you, but fuck you''

Jiwoo started packing up her stuff to go back to her other desk. They both knew all eyes were on them since Jiwoo’s outburst wasn’t the most silent person in the universe.

Wooyoung cursed himself for being such an asshole. It was a habit at this point. If someone tried being nice, his defense mechanism would turn on. He just assumed no one ever wished him well.

He grabbed her arm. ''Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just… with everyone being nice to me, and then shoving me down a well or similar, it’s hard accepting when someone’s being genuine''

Yes, it had actually happened. Wooyoung was seven and his "best friend" had asked him to come to his house and hang out. He did, and his "best friend" shoved him into a well. In which he had to lay in for three hours, crying his eyes out.

The girl smiled. She could accept that as an apology. And it seemed quite logical what he said. Survival instincts.

She sat back down and smiled. ''So, do you wanna hang out? My dad’s pulling out his ugly old barbecue. When he cooks, there’s enough to feed the whole town. I promise, if they do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you can leave ''

The boy thought about it. ''Sure, uhm, but I gotta do one thing before we go to yours''

Whispers followed his reply. People were sure that Jiwoo pranked him, that she only asked him out of pity, or because she had a bigger plan. All were wrong. She genuinly wanted to get to know the man.

The boy intrigued her, so she acted on it. And to be fair, he was ridiculously good-looking under the black hood.

As the class went on, Jiwoo couldn't be more bored. ''Does anyone know the answer to question 10?'' The teacher looked at the class.

Wooyoung raised his hand, something Jiwoo'd seen him do a lot, but he never got to answer since the teachers seemed to hate him just as much as the students.

''No one?'' The teacher asked, his gaze avoiding Wooyung's corner.

''1939'' Wooyoung said out loud, tired of being ignored.

''Don't speak unless I tell you to!'' The teacher snapped in a rude tone.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and sunk back down in his seat. ''Asshole'' He mumbled under his breath, causing Jiwoo to chuckle.

While Wooyoung packed up his stuff Minho passed by their desk. It confused them both since he sat in the front.

Without missing a beat Minho snatched Wooyoung's phone from the table and rushed out of the classroom. Jiwoo cursed the fact that Minho was the quarterback. He literally got the position because he could run.

Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh and slung his bag over his shoulder. Jiwoo copied his actions. ''Let's get your phone back, eh?''

''Uhm, I can survive without it''

''Wuss, I'll do it. Let's go''

They headed out of the classroom and spotted everyone in the hallway, gathered around the tall quarterback.

Jiwoo let out a quiet sigh. She walked up to Minho, after pushing her way through the small crowd. She tapped him harshly on the shoulder. When he turned around Jiwoo quickly withdrew her arm and punched the boy in the face as hard as she could.

A small crunch was heard and Wooyoung's phone dropped, right into Jiwoo's expecting hands.

''Don't take things that aren't yours'' Jiwoo smiled sweelty and threw Wooyoung his phone.

Wooyoung pointed behind her. Jiwoo turned around and spotted the quarterback charging at her. ''Why does he have to make things so difficult? Hold this, love'' She handed Wooyoung her bag.

Wooyoung froze for a short moment. Jiwoo called him "Love".

Minho stopped before her and stared down at her. ''Listen here Kim-''

''No, you listen her Park, you've been an asshole since the day I met you. You've never been nice to anyone but your minions, you've never treated Wooyoung as a person. My parents basically run this town, my dad's a lawyer, my mom's... important, let's see who wins?''

Minho fell silent and stared at the very short, yet fiesty girl. ''Well... fuck off''

''Now to the rest of you assholes, did you find a single picture of anything? Any proof? Anything?''

No one said anything.

''That's what I thought!''

''He had a picture of you!''

Jiwoo slowly turned around and looked at Wooyoung. He looked horrified. ''Can I see?''

Wooyoung unlocked his phone and handed it over to Jiwoo. She scrolled through his cameraroll and found two pictures of her. One in the dining hall where she sat alone, side profile towards him as the sun came through thw window, and one of her lauhging about... whatever.

''I look amazing- wow'' Jiwoo mumbled and zoomed in on herself. ''Be gone, idiots! I see no harm in these'' She handed the phone back to the owner. ''Let's head to mine then, loverboy''

''Jiwoo! You coming?'' Ara and Hana asked and turned to their friend. They were planning to hang out earlier, but she wasn't too excited about that anymore.

''No, I'm gonna hang out with Wooyoung'' The girl replied without even looking at her two friends.

The two girls scoffed and looked at the boy. ''Why? He's a kidnappeing pervert''

''So? Do any of you have any proof, whatsoever, of anything? I'm heading out with him, bye''

Wooyoung followed Jiwoo out to her car. His eyes widened. ''Holy fuck, that's a nice car''

A chuckle left the girl's lips. The laugh sounded like heaven to Wooyuong's ears. ''Well, get in. Where did you need to go?''

Wooyoung snapped out of his daydreaming and looked at the girl. ''Oh, uhm, just outside town. I do some charity work at a orphanage there''

Jiwoo smiled. ''You're such sweetheart''

The boy blushed. ''Well, I know how it is living without parents so.... yeah''

She smiled and started the car. Jiwoo drove and Wooyoung gave directions to the building.

When they stopped outside the daycare and Wooyoung got out, he was immediately ambushed by kids. He squatted down and held out his arms as the kids hugged him.

Jiwoo smiled as he spoke with each of them, asking about their day. ''Oppa, who's she? Is she your girlfriend?'' One of the small girls asked with a smirk.

Wooyoung turned around and looked at Jiwoo. ''No, she's a friend. Be nice to her''

A few of the kids immediately walked up to her and started introducing themselves with wide smiles. One girl in particular had a tight grip on Wooyoung's pant leg. She seemed very shy.

Jiwoo walked up her and squatted down in front of her. ''Hello, I'm Jiwoo. What's your name?''

She hid behind Wooyoung's tall frame. ''Uhm... Arin''

''Pretty name, fits perfectly for such a pretty girl'' Jiwoo said and smiled as sweetly as she possibly could.

Arin seemed to accept it and smiled. ''You're sp pretty, Unnie. Are you Oppa's girlfriend?''

''Just a friend I'm afraid''

The small toddler pouted. ''But you're so pretty!''

Jiwoo chuckled as she leaned closer to her. ''Can you keep a super secret secret?'' The girl nodded excitedly. ''Oppa is really handsome, but you can't tell him''

''I promise!'' She giggled and ran away.

The girl stood up straight and looked at Wooyoung, who was frozen in his spot.

Kim Jiwoo, the perfect dream girl, thought he was handsome? The town's misfit, the weirdo creep?

''You there Wooyoung?'' Jiwoo waved her hand in front of his face.

''Hm? Yeah''

''Ah! Wooyoung, right? Welcome!'' Chaeyoung greeted the boy happily as Jiwoo introduced them.

Wooyoung's eyes widened as she squeezed him in a tight hug. He looked at Jiwoo with a panicked look. No one had ever shown him this much love.

''Yah, eomma, you can't just hug people I bring home. Not everyone's comfortable with that!''

The woman immediately pulled away from the hug. ''I'm so sorry Wooyoung, it's just... Jiwoo's girlfriends are all... rude, and you seem to sweet''

The boy was still surprised, as well as confused. ''So you've not heard the rumours?''

''Yeah, well, I prefer creating my own opinion'' The woman smiled sweetly. ''Food will be on the table in a minute, unless your father screws it up again''

Jiwoo chuckled and led Wooyoung up to her room. Wooyoung only stood awkwardly in the door opening, as the only time he'd ever been at someone else's house was with an old "friend" who didn't allow him on the furniture, as if he was a dog.

''Sit wherever'' Jiwoo threw her school bag into her closet and closed it. She sat down on her bed, removed her shoes, and crossed her legs.

Wooyoung carefully sat down in her office chair. He wasn't sure what to do.

''So, tell me about you. I wanna get to know you! I doubt you're a kidnapper since you volunteer at the orphanage''

The boy chuckled. ''Well, uhm, there's not much to know about me. I'm homeless since my own mother hated that everyone knew her son, especially for something bad. I volunteered at the orphanage before that. Uhm, then the girl went missing and since everyone already hated me it was easy to put the blame on me. And yeah, the rest you know''

''You can stay here if you want. We have a spare bedroom'' Jiwoo offered with that same, sweet smile she always wore when she spoke to him.

Wooyoung didn't know what to think about it. He adored it. It made the girl even more beautiful, if that was even possible, but he also felt like she only acted like this out of pity.

''Look, if you're only doing this for some kind of Univeristy resume, or pity, or some kind of... attention from the whole town, just drop the act now and I'll never bother you again''

Wooyoung was ready for her to either lash out on him for "exposing" her, or laugh and throw him out, or continue her lie, but she didn't.

''I know you think I'm doing this out of pity. I know you only see me as some... rich daddy's girl, but I genuinly want to help you, and I really think you are sweet, if you want to at least. Carving faces into the wall works against you, but yeah''

The boy was stunned.

''And I didn't lie before, you are really handsome'' Jiwoo winked and smirked.

''Thanks'' He blushed slightly and pulled up his hood again.

Jiwoo chukled. ''You're a blushy one'' She teased and took out her phone. ''Give me your number''

Wooyoung was hesitant but did as requested. ''Why?''

''Kids! Food!''

''So we can hang out again'' Jiwoo said in a duh-tone.

Wooyoung made a quiet "ah" sound and quickly entered his number into her, much newer, phone. Jiwoo took Wooyoung's phone and did the same to his. She held it up and took a silly selfie before handing it back.

''Smile'' Jiwoo smiled and directed her phone camera to Wooyoung's face. The man did as requested and smiled. ''Pretty, now let's go eat''

''So, Jung Wooyoung, correct?'' Jiwoo's father, Changkyun, turned to the new face.

''Yes, sir''

Changkyun smiled. ''He called me Sir, I like this one!''

Jiwoo chuckled as she ate. Her father loved meeting new people. Especially if they looked up to him. He enjoyed the ego-boost.

''Well, how come you two are hanging ouy? Jiwoo only has mean friends, but you seem really sweet'' Changkyun asked bluntly.

Wooyoung let out an awkward laugh. ''Well, Sir, she sat with me in math. Why I have no idea''

''Because he was intriguing, and my friends are all assholes, might as well make some new ones. And he's the only one in school I haven't spoken to before''

Chaeyoung chuckled to herself. She enjoyed Wooyoung's company, and her daughter seemed to enjoy it as well.

''So, any girls, Wooyoung?'' Chaeyoung asked.

''Eomma!'' Jiwoo glared at her mother.

''Uhm, no ma'am, afraid all the girls in school hates me or are terrified of me, well, except Jiwoo apparently'' Wooyoung smiled sweetly.

Jiwoo looked at the boy with a sweet smile. Well, according to her mother it was "adoring". Chaeyoung was convinced her daughter had found her "one".

Jiwoo and Wooyoung finished their dinner and were quick to disappeared up to her room again.

Wooyoung cursed himself as he caught himself staring at Jiwoo's lips once more.

''Fuck her lips are pretty- even prettier when she smiles''

''I can see you staring'' Jiwoo chuckled and smiled. ''You got lip-fetisch, or what?''

''N-n-no! I just- your- I- your lips are pretty''

Jiwoo chuckled and sat down in front of him. ''Oh yeah? They're pretty?''

Wooyoung didn't know what to do. He was panicking on the inside while also keeping all his focus on Jiwoo's lips. She was so close. He could smell her sweet scent. He could see the glitter specks in her pink, cherry lipgloss.

''Wanna feel them? Or taste them?'' Jiwoo knew she was frisky. But she thought she'd picked up some... hint. A small, subtle nod. Jiwoo smiled again, that sweet, gorgeous smile. That smile Wooyuong had never seen, before she looked at him.

Her smile made him feel like the only person in the entire the world. Her smile made him feel like every problem he'd ever had had disappeared. Her smile made him lose his mind and not focus on anything but her.

Jiwoo chuckled and laid a hand on Wooyoung's shoulder. ''You sure? You don't have to kiss me unless you really want to''

''I- I-... I really want to kiss you, I'm just worried that you'll be let down by me doing... being, well, me''

''Come on, my first was Minho in our class, it's hard to let me down'' She laid a hand on Wooyoung's cheek. ''And who knows, maybe I'll let you down?''

''You could probably never let me down'' Wooyoung smiled weakly.

Jiwoo smiled and laid her small hand on his cheek. She leaned closer, slowly if Wooyoung wanted to back out. He didn't. Jiwoo pressed her lips against Wooyoung's.

Wooyoung might be new to this whole thing, altough he had his fair share of kisses, but he carefully wrapped his arms around Jiwoo's waist and pulled her into his lap.

A small smile rose to the girl's lips as she straddled him. She wrapped her arms around Wooyoung's broad shoulders and pulled him closer.

The man was touch-deprived, and slightly desperate. His hands landed on her hips and his thumbs automatically started rubbing circles on them.

Jiwoo parted her lips slightly, allowing Wooyoung to do as he pleased. Wooyoung accepted the invite and started exploring her mouth with his tongue.

A small, breathy moan left Jiwoo's lips. She was also, slightly, touch-deprived.

She pulled away and chuckled slightly. ''Someone's excited''

Wooyoung blushed and rested his forehead against Jiwoo's shoulder. ''You're mean''

''Yet here you are, without your pent up walls''

''For you only''

[aneyef0raheart]

𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱 ℜ𝔞𝔠𝔢

TW: Backshots, flashing, freaky stuff, sucking and violence (I hope these are enough warnings to be aware that this is more than these)

You were a young woman who had amazing drift skills, one of the most popular actually. You are well known in your city and create a lot of commotion just for being seen in public. There was an event that was very unexpected and exciting at the same time, you didn't know why? Why didn't you know? The men told you there was a guest visiting this event, participating as you may seem. The two men that told you were Satoru and Suguru! You're high-key supporters and help you with your awful and joyful conditions!

"Heyyy Y/N, you're probably super curious who this person is eh?" Satoru said sitting on those metal chairs drinking a white monster energy drink. He just stared at you waiting for an answer chuckling while Suguru standing in the back with his arms crossed leaning against a wall. "Well yes of course! Who is it!" You said with full excitement grabbing both Satoru's shoulders. He tilted his head with a gaze upon looking up at me, "What if I said it was the one and only, D.K." You let go of my grip and stepped a foot back from him. You had my mouth halfway open and my eyes widened like they were going to pop out my eye sockets. "Drift King!? Choso Kamo!? Number 1!?"

I noticed Suguru giggling behind Satoru nodding and keeping his head down. "You're fucking shitting me." You covered my mouth with all the unexpected things crossing by. Before Satoru spoke again a loud engine was heard nearby the parking lot. "Why ye-" He raised his eyebrows and smirked looking at you. "He's here~" Suguru walked towards Satoru always standing by his side placing a hand on both your guy's shoulder. "Why not meet him!" "What the fuck you think we'll do!" I ran away from them dashing to the parking lot seeing a car with thousands of stickers with lightning bolts on the sides of the car. Just by the looks of the car, it turns out it was a black Toyota Chaser with such a low skirt. "How is he able to drift this masterpiece!?" I thought to myself, the fact that I turned to the side of his car noticing he parked next to MY CAR!? I caught him staring at it looking at my car in millions of different angles looking any damages, he seemed impressed by the brand and looks if my beautiful car which I LOVE!

My car was not an ordinary Mazda RX7, it had champagne pink wrap on it while my favorite anime characters were on the back of my car. It was pretty girly until you see it being driven. The car plate was placed as "S1M9ER". "Ayy~ Choso! Looks like you've made it to see our pretty lady right there." Satoru chuckled pointing me out to him. I turned my head to Satoru starting to get embarrassed. "What the shit Satoru!" I gritted my teeth glaring at him, Choso giggled and got out his car. He leaned his side of the car gazing me. "Nice car." Choso stated to me. "I.. I-uhm.. Thanks?" "Shall we begin the race?" He questioned, you didn't know there would be a race just now, you flinched for a few seconds wonder what race? With who? "Hold on a race? Race who? With who!?" You were so confused, nobody told me anything! "Ah, I'm sorry looks like Satoru hasn't told you that you will be competing with Choso, Y/N." Suguru announced for me. "E-EH!? RACE!? NUMBER 1!?" "That's right, you're good. You can handle him, even if you do lose you owe him something." Suguru and Satoru smirked "It's his choice what you owe him." Suguru exclaimed

"I- uhm... Sure I guess..." I said in a quiet lowered voice as I walked over my car with baggy black sweats, they make you look even thicker than before. To hide your ass from them freaky boys, you wore a baggy car tag shirt on top. Your style did not match your car, which was very unusual of anybody who does that.

Both you and Choso revved your engines and drive to a track where nobody was suppose to even pass, this is where the town host the events where a whole freeway was built and difficult obstacles included.

I'm sorry to tell you this but my noodle arms can't handle this, y'all gonna have to wait for PART 2!! 😭I don't even know you guys but love you! Good night or Good morning!🩷

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 6 - The Exposé▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤“Are you serious right now? Me being scared shitless means I’m into him? Did you hit your head on the way here?” you ask, starting to feel actually annoyed.

“But it’s not just that and you know it!” They smack your arm, beautiful eyes boring into yours and peering at your soul. 

Of course it isn’t just that, but you’d never admit you feel anything for this fucked-up asshole to anyone, let alone your own damn self. ◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven

Chapter 6 - The Exposé

All the noise, the chatter, the people—they drown out the silence as you sit like a loser in the corner of the busy shop, waiting. 

With your leg bouncing—one of your many nervous tics—you cast an anxious look around you, unable to shake the feeling that everyone is watching you, even off campus. You’re hiding behind the safety of your hood, blankly seeing people going about their day, while you were waiting for Taylor to show.

“Girl, if we’re going to discuss fucked-up shit again, I really need something to sweeten it up” is what they told you over the phone, after your little mental breakdown in the hallway. 

So they picked their favorite—and unfortunately a really fucking popular—bubble tea store in the area, for the both of you to have a talk in. 

You’re torn between periodically checking your watch, your phone, or your surroundings, visibly on edge as you alternate doing so.

Conjuring whatever your therapist—or reddit post—told you to do when you’re having a huge panic attack and you’re not home, you begin taking deep breaths. You focus on the things around you first, the different smells, the people. The wallpaper that's slightly torn, in the corner where you’re sitting. 

You look around, try your goddamn best, and unsurprisingly—it doesn’t fucking work.

It doesn’t, because save for your three different types of anxiety medication you take every day, nothing fucking works. You stopped taking heavy meds after you figured the worst of everything had passed, after life finally became somewhat stable, somewhat bearable.

 So instead, you ride that nauseating wave of anxiety pulsating within you, and wait as patiently as you fucking can for it to just stop.

Shigaraki managed to do a number on you today, because you made sure you took off as soon as he’d left, not having the stomach to bump into more horny, borderline assailant creepy jocks anymore. 

It was more than enough that your phone was blowing up with an incredibly stupid amount of assholes, messaging you, harassing you at regular intervals, and sending you enough dick pics to last you a lifetime. All in the span of a single fucking day.

You wanted to turn your phone off, but unfortunately, it was also the only way to contact Taylor outside the comfort of your PC, so you ended up just muting it, turning the notifications off and sucking it the fuck up until you got home today.

Your friend still had classes that they were eager to skip, in order to hurry and meet with you, but you managed to convince them to stay by compromising—hence your sitting down in an overrated bubble tea store, right in the middle of a crisis.

With a sigh, you sip on your plain black coffee, scrolling through social media and passing as much time as you can before you even have to think about dealing with him. Luckily, it didn’t take more than an hour, and the movement you see from the corner of your eye is a familiar one. 

Taylor is dressed up in a slutty black mesh crop-top and a high-waisted pair of black leggings. A few flashy accessories and a pair of sunglasses sitting snug on top of their head, are complementing their skimpy club outfit nicely.

“You do realize winter starts in like a month, slut?” you ask, a knowing smile playing on your lips, pure relief coating your gaze at the sight of them before you. 

You’re not alone, you’re not alone, you’re not alone.

Not this time.

“Oh yeah? Well how about—you shut the fuck up? It’s fucking winter all year ‘round for you, bitch!” They smile back at you, but a thought seems to cross their mind and their expression slips back into one of concern. “Are you doing okay, babe?”

“I’ll manage. Do you wanna order now, or?”

“It’s fiiine, I can always steal from yours and order later.” They wink at you, yoinking your drink before your very eyes, and you watch in horror as a major crime is about to unfold, right in front of you.

“Hold! Dude, it’s—”

“Eeww! Gross! How can you even drink this shit?!” Your friend basically throws the drink back at you, splashing some on the table and immediately getting back up to order. 

You look at them through half-lidded eyes and speak in a bored tone, “If you would’ve asked first, I could have told you what it was.”

Taylor shows you the bird, mouths a ‘fuck yourself’ and makes their way to the counter to order. “Aaand we don’t know what he’s talking about? Like, at all?” they say, sipping on their milk caramel white tea diabetes and asks you.

“Nooo fucking clue. He kept talking like a goddamn psycho about this ‘pReSeNT’—” you reply, doing air quotes and mocking his stupid fucking voice, “—he’s got for me. I don’t know where, or what it is. Half expecting to find a dead body in front of my place today, tbh.”

“Hmm, guess we’ll have to wait and find out. Sucks, but there’s not much we can do, babe.”

Then, your friend starts eyeing you curiously, seemingly weighing something in their mind. You roll your eyes. 

“Shoot. You’re not done.”

As if possessed, Taylor instantly lights up and throws a series of incredibly inadequate questions at you.

“Okay, okay, so—what did he smell like? Everyone says he looks like he doesn’t shower, and wears the same clothes all the time! Is it true? I’ve only seen him from a distance. And, and, oh! Do you think he’s interested in you? There’s no way he’s not, right? I mean he was fucking with you, but I’ve never heard of him interacting with anyone like that—getting all close and personaaal, pinning them to the freaking wall! Two times?! C’mon!” They go off, giggling, as if Shigaraki was truly just a misunderstood guy, a hopeless romantic, and not a rich psychopath who gets off on breaking people's bones and making girls cry.

If your friend notices the blatant shock on your face, they don’t react to it.

“So, I have a theory, okaaay? I think… that he kind of likes you? I mean I heard he’s beaten the shit out of female students before, for literally less than the shit you pulled, so he’s definitely cutting you slack. Oh, right! How come you didn’t pepper spray his ass? You never hesitated before.” A snicker escapes them when they can’t help but imagine it. “Bet it would’ve been so fucking funny to blind Shigaraki Tomura! He’d literally fucking kill you. Gasp! Do you think he’d screech?!”

You sigh, shaking your head and looking out of the window. “I fucking can’t with you.”

“Well?” They cast an expectant glance in your direction, waiting for you to respond until a frustrated exhale escapes your lips.

“Fuck, okay. You’re lucky I’m short on friends,” you say, as if you had any friends at all, and your gaze turns into a playfully irritated one, making them wiggle their perfectly-shaped tattooed eyebrows at you. “First of all, you have to stop humanizing him. He’s literally just a psycho.”

“A psycho you’re into,” they shamelessly add, batting their fake eyelashes innocently. You blink at them, taken aback by their audacity. “C’moon, all these years I’ve known you and this guy is the first who’s doing a number on you? Just look at you! You’re not acting like yourself! Be fucking for real, girl.”

“Are you serious right now? Me being scared shitless means I’m into him? Did you hit your head on the way here?” you ask, starting to feel actually annoyed.

“But it’s not just that and you know it!” They smack your arm, beautiful eyes boring into yours and peering at your soul. 

Of course it isn’t just that, but you’d never admit you feel anything for this fucked-up asshole to anyone, let alone your own damn self.

“Listen, you can lie to yourself as much as you want, babe, but I’ve been around for way too fucking long for you to be able to hide that shit from me. Just sayin’.”

You roll your eyes and click your tongue.

“Whatever, you asshole.” 

Taking a sip of your bitter drink, you start mentally preparing yourself to entertain your crazy bitch of a friend. They nod excitedly, waiting for you to continue. 

It’s like they completely forgot the entire reason you’re here right now, but you brush it off because this is nothing new to you. You’ve known them long enough to know that, despite their perfect popular appearance, they still have flaws. Major flaws. And frankly it didn’t bother you. 

“Dunno. I don’t think he doesn’t shower—and who the fuck cares if he wears the same clothes everyday? I do too? Are people seriously that fucking shallow?” you ask, brow furrowing at the nasty shit that Taylor and their peers seem to talk behind his back. “He smells fine. No B.O, just cigs and uh… cologne, maybe.” 

You leave out the part where you don’t think you’ve smelled any sort of perfume on him before today, looking warily at your friend, who’s toying with the rim of their cup, using the tips of their forty dollar acrylic nails. 

“And how the fuck should I know if he’s into me? He’s fucking weird all the time. His eyes are—when he looks at me… I don’t know. It’s intense. Like that bastard already knows everything about you and still expects you to disappoint him in some way. It’s really fucking weird, I’ve never met anyone like that before, so he is special, alright,” you scoff before continuing, “Also, kind of fucked that you believe some rumors and parrot the same shit your friends say. You literally said you don’t know him personally, and I bet none of your fake ass friends know him either.”

You shouldn’t defend him. You know you shouldn’t defend him, but you can’t fucking help it when you’ve been through the same shit your whole life. People just like to say things, and maybe some of the things they’ve said are true, but—

“What? Bitch I literally know someone who just looked at him wrong, and came back the next day with a broken arm and his dad losing his job. Don’t give me that.”

“Oh? Looked at him wrong, huh? He for sure didn’t say he looked weird, called his outfit shit, or made fun of his scars and skin problems, right? No way he’d said something disrespectful to his face, like the fact that he maybe doesn’t shower. The fuck you on? I’ve seen the way people look at him at school.”

Taylor narrows their eyes at you, scoffs and looks away. 

A pang of anxiety replaces your irritation and you’re about to try to smooth things over, when they finally reply.

“Okay, fine. The guy thought it would be funny to steal his watch and prove he can get away with it. He lied to us too, by the way. But it’s not like he didn’t fuck with you too! He’s literally pushed you and invaded your privacy, threatened you and acted like a creep! And god knows what he was referring to earlier!” They fold their arms defensively.

Your friend is right, he does seem like an unpredictable individual, and you shouldn’t defend him over them. After all, you still haven’t told them about the ugly bruises. 

“Sorry,” they begin, a remorseful look on their face and your eyes widened. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I know people acted like shit around you too in highschool. Still think that you should be careful, though. He’s violent and scary and I know I was messing around earlier, saying he’s interested in you, but I said that because no one has seen him with anyone on campus. Not unless they got into a fight. He’s acting super weird around you.”

You glance at the (now cold) drink in your hands and your shoulders slump forward. “It’s fine. I’m… sensitive because he’s scared me, and it pisses me off how weak I am. I thought I got over most of my mommy and daddy issues, but it only took a bigger asshole to bring them out of me again.” 

Honestly, you wish you had the courage to beat his ass even if it meant he’d be beating yours in return. That way it would at least feel like you’ve tried.

“Honey, no. No, no, no. You’re not weak.” Taylor replies, your eyes becoming wet as they take your hands in theirs and their soft voice melts your heart. “You’re like, the strongest bitch that I know.”

“Shut up.” You look away, frowning with a blurry vision, as your tears threaten to spill over.

They squeeze your hands softly, expression full of understanding. “I’m serious. We’ll figure this whole thing out, okay? Sorry for being nosey, that was really fucked of me.”

“It’s fine, that’s not the issue. I’m just really tired, I think.”

It’s definitely not fine, but you know they mean well.

Your thoughts were running at a hundred miles per hour now, exhaustion catching up with your foggy brain.

─────────

Click —

You unlock the door to your apartment and look around to see if anything’s out of place. Maybe even for a dead body that wasn’t so out of the question anymore.

You double and triple check, going into every room two or three times. Everything’s where it’s supposed to be, and no one seems to have broken into your apartment yet.

If you somehow went back to the version you were this morning, you’d find the way you act right now to be kind of silly.

You were not, though, not anymore, and you know better now. After a well deserved warm shower, you sit down on your cheap thirty-dollar IKEA chair and boot your PC up. You decide that for the next few hours, gaming will be your best coping mechanism for all the stress you’ve gone through today, while you sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

You only manage to get through a couple of hours though, watching the timer of your League queue go up when your phone goes off. After pushing one side of your headset off of your right ear, you pick up.

“Yeah? I thought I saw you like five minutes ago, did you really miss me that much?” you joke, but it falls super flat when you hear Taylor exhale your name shakily. 

Alarms were suddenly going off in your head.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?!”

Did he do something to them?!

“H-Hey, um. C-Can you check—S-Sorry, it’s really hard to speak right now,” they choke up.

Your own voice starts shaking and you frown at your white walls. “That’s okay, it’s okay. T-Take your time, I’m here. I’m listening. Should I come over?” 

“N-No, hold on. Okay.” They take a deep breath before going on, “Do you remember t-that social media platform for college kids in our city? The popular one. T-The one where I hooked up with that douchebag who asked me to peg him, five minutes into our date?” Taylor took a pause and sniffled. “You didn’t wanna make an account because it was ‘normie shit’ and ‘a waste of time’, r-remember?”

“Yes? Taylor, what the fuck’s happening? Get to the point, please.”

“W-Well, I’ll send you my login info now, and you can c-check it yourself, hold on.”

You hear plastic nails tapping in quick succession on what you assumed was the screen of their phone.

“Can you tell me alread—”

“Hold on! Y-You have to see this, I—I really can’t,” they say, sniffling again and your brows pinching even more.

While waiting, your leg once again starts bouncing anxiously and your phone finally gets pinged. You put your friend on speaker, quickly typing in the address and login on your PC.

“So? What am I supposed to see?”

“J-Just keep scrolling, you’ll find it. I’m so fucking sorry, honey. We’ll go to the dean’s office, or the police… w-we’ll—fuck—we’ll get this sorted out, okay?” your friend attempts to reassure you, but they sounded like they needed it more right now.

You scroll for a while, still having no clue about what you’re supposed to find, listening to Taylor mumble some more and scrolling through random post after random post of annoying frat guys your friend follows, exes, friends, etcetera.

“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to—”

Until your eyes zone in on it, your first and last name displayed at the top of the post. [ Hiiii everyone!!! I’m the hot emo chick in your computer science class at Weston NexTech! ]

* Click Image Attachment

You swallow emptily, clicking on the first attachment.

Dread fills your lungs and suddenly—you’re unable to breathe.

What greets you is your barely legal self. Staring back at you. 

It’s a selfie—your selfie—arm hooked under one of your legs, and pulling it upwards, while you use your other to raise the strap of your thong, teasing the viewer… your ‘boyfriend’ at the time. 

It all clicks at once and you immediately understand what this is—

Revenge porn.

[ So, I bet that got your attention, right? Hehe! You better read closely now! 

I’m making a post here because I’m suuuuper fucking bored, 

and I was hoping you guys could cheer me up! :3 ]

* Click Image Attachment

“Babe? Y-You okay?”

“Hold on,” you reply snappily, feeling the tips of your digits turning painfully cold.

Your bare ass is on display in the second image, bent over the bed and looking back at the camera. Your stomach twists with heavy nausea.

You remember these pictures.

[ I’ve never done this before, but I looove attention <3 and 

since you guys have got nothing to lose, we should all play

a game, okay?! Yaay! 

I’ve always been shy and I thought it 

would be fun to get to know everyone before

I graduate, so this little honor student 

is going to cut you a deal, yeah? ]

* Click Image Attachment

You thought that maybe Taylor hung up on you, but in reality you just stopped being able to hear anything.

With your heart pounding wildly, you glance at the engagement and notice there are about two thousand people who’d liked the fucking thread. 

Two whole thousands, and the thread doesn’t even fucking end there.

[ At the bottom of the thread you can find my email

and phone number! :D

And who knows, if it’s going really well, maybe I’ll even invite you over to my place!!!

Or depending on how this goes, I could share my 

address with everyone! Wouldn’t that be fun? ]

* Click Image Attachment

Suddenly, a lot of today’s events start making sense to you. 

The random phone calls, the spam emails, the people looking at you funny and jocks almost sexually assaulting you on the way to class.

[ You better hurry now, before it’s too late

and I change my mind! Hehe! 

I’ll be posting new clips every Tuesday, at 11 PM, 

make sure to watch them all!

So please, please, please! Text me, call me, or

hit me up IRL! I’d like to get to know as many of you hotties as I can <3

Keep in mind that I’m shy and I like assertive guys, 

so don’t worry if I say no! I really, really like rough roleplay 

as you can see below!

Till next Tuesday and thank you for the likes!!! <3 ] 

* Play video

You must’ve shifted realities, because your body stopped feeling like your own. 

Why were you here again?

Ah, because you decided to cut Shigaraki out of your project.

Or maybe because he’d asked to play with you and you were too stunned to respond to him.

Would you have played with him if the stun wore off that time, if he’d asked again? Probably not.

So then, you’re here because the two of you met at the convenience store, way back.

What had you said to him that day? Couldn’t you have just gotten out of the way like a normal human being? But he wasn’t mad the next day when he’d met you in class.

That means you must have fucked up badly, multiple times, right?

This is your fault. It’s always your fault.

But there’s no time for that, because you partially tune into reality again, and now you can hear Taylor crying softly on the speaker of your phone.

With a shaky grip on your mouse, you press play on the clip and the first noise you hear is your dealer fumbling with the camera, trying to set it up.

It’s been years. 

This was a different time of your life, one that you’d like so desperately to erase from your brain, from your history.

You were high, and not on life, no.

You’re high on something crazy, like heroin. It was one of the first videos too, you remember. You can tell by the amount of scars and bruises you can see on yourself. And you’d let your dealer… your sort-of-ex, take pictures of your body as another form of payment, after sexual favors became too boring for him. 

But it didn’t stop at that. 

No, that was only the start. He’d started recording videos of the two of you fucking—really low quality amateur pornos—and then, as the months passed, he’d realized he could talk you into trying pretty much anything if he dangled the right prizes in front of your eyes. 

You were way younger, really fucking stupid, always under the influence, with no safety-net and constantly daring life over and over to really mess you up. It meant you didn’t give a fuck about your situation, of some insignificant videos or pictures… at least at first.

If anything you used to like the attention from him. 

From anyone.

But that all had changed, once you started cleaning up your act, once you were able to become confident again. You made him delete all of them, you really did, but the bastard must have had backups, something that did cross your mind at the time, but you thought—hoped—that he at least wouldn’t share them with anyone. He was a coward and a criminal after all. One that you had a lot of dirt on, in case he decided to fuck you over. 

It should’ve been fine, you should’ve been safe.

Unless someone like Shigaraki managed to get a hold of him, threatening or paying him off to get what he wanted. Yeah, that must’ve been it.

But you haven’t gotten the slightest clue as to how he put two and two together to find your ex. You’d almost completely changed your identity since. 

However, that must not matter for someone of Shigaraki’s caliber, because you’re now staring at the evidence that more than half of your university has had access to.

“Taylor,” you say in a monotone voice, a quiet tear escaping you.

“Y-Yes? Hun, I’m s-sorry. I’m r-really so-rry.”

Pain thrums through your cells and your chest hurts. You don’t know how to comfort them.

You don’t know how to comfort your fucking self.

“It’s… not the full video. He’s—he’s splitting it into parts. He’s planning to fuck with me by posting them week by week before class, so that he’ll be able to gauge my reaction. Like an actual psychopath.”

Your eyes glide over the thread quickly once more. Then, again. Reading it over and over.

Ah, he’s insane. Completely, utterly, off-his-fucking-medication insane. 

You thought maybe your stupid fucking brain was playing tricks on you but no.

He’d left you a message. In the thread.

He’d actually left you a message.

You open notepad on your PC and write it down, side by side.

[ I bet that got your attention, right?—You better read closely now—I have got nothing to lose—We should play a game—I’m going to cut you a deal—It’s over—Depending on how this goes—I’ll share your address with everyone—You better hurry now, before it’s too late and I change my mind ]

You lose. Game over

Taylor is calling your name. You blink. Twice.

“W-We can go to the dean, right? T-They should understand. W-We’ll go together and—”

“No,” you interrupt, a feeling of numbness washing over you. “I’m not sure they’ll believe me. Plus his dad’s a big shot.”

“Please, we can—we can go to the police! He—He can’t get away with this!”

“It’s fine. I’m hanging up, okay? I’ll try calling him and if that doesn’t work then… I don’t know. I’ll just try calling him.”

“What? No! Don’t! We need the police—please, please, let’s go to the police!”

“You know I can’t do that, Tay. I’ll talk to you later. It’ll be fine,” you lie, cutting them off and hanging up.

Your hands are shaking, as you stare at his name in your contacts list.

‘You lose’ he’d said. ‘Game over’

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay, you chant in your head. You’ll be okay, you’ve been through worse, you’ll be okay.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring—

“Yeah?” a hoarse voice replies with a curse under his breath, seemingly distracted, as sounds of a mechanical keyboard bleed through the phone speakers and up against your ear.

“It’s… It’s me.”

Then there was silence.

Until you hear a strange sound. It takes you a good second to realize that he’s fucking giggling.

“Uh-huuuh. What did you want? I’m busy,” he says while your hearing attunes to him mashing his keyboard louder. 

You take a deep breath. “Take it down.”

“Hmmm? Take what down? You should be more specific, I’m not really following.” Shigaraki smiles and you could fucking hear it in his voice.

Your eyes screw shut, anger already bubbling within yourself. “You know what I mean, stop playing dumb. Take. It. Down.”

“Aaah, I don’t have time to play games with you, so either get to the point or—”

“What do you want, Shigaraki? Hm?” you growl, quickly losing your patience. “Do you want me to blow you? Sleep with you? What do you want from me?”

“Whoaaaa, what the hell? Chill! Do I look like some desperate fucking loser to you?” he says it, like he doesn't know. “Only idiots would think to fuck ugly bimbos like you, and it seems like you’re pretty much used goods at this point anyways, haha. Honestly, who’d fuck you at all ever again? I’ve seen all the shit your ex did—” He inhales sharply, key taps becoming frantic on the other side of the line. “Fuck! They’re on B, planting! Spinner, fucking TP there, stop wasting time, FUCK! HEY! Do you want to win, or what? Oh, you do? Then fucking LISTEN to me.”

After a long second of him huffing and puffing in your ear, it finally clicks in your brain. 

Shigaraki is gaming, playing with his buddies, relaxing while you feel like your life is falling apart for the 1000th time this month.

“Okay,” you finally say.

“Okay? Okay, what?” he scoffs. “You know, you should try a little harder, moron. I told you what to do before, if you want me to help you.” Shigaraki pauses, focusing on his game for another moment. You watch your animated wallpaper turn into a dark screen due to your inactivity—until he snorts. “Yeah, maybe you do enjoy this kind of thing, after all. I wouldn’t really put it past you. After seeing those vids, boy, gotta admit.” He whistles and his mic peaks. “Didn’t think you were the type! Ahh, does the faculty even know? I wonder how they’d react, knowing their adorable little honors student was spending her free time fucking low-level druglords, getting high and recording shitty rape-porn!”

“What I do with my life, in private, is none of your fucking business!” you yell into your phone. “Do you even know how old I was in those? What I fucking went through? Did you not fucking see? Yet you still decide you wanna go ahead and dox me?” you ask desperately, voice cracking multiple times. “What kind of monster are you? How low can you fucking stoop, like actually?”

What were you trying to do? Appeal to his humanity? Does a guy like this even feel empathy? The last few ones in your life didn’t, and they were all really fucked up too. What’s the chance he’d listen? Probably none, but what’s the point in holding back anyways?

“Damn, don’t get emotional, man. Not my fuckin’ problem you let your shitty ass boyfriends fuck you up like that—Fuck, shut up! Wasn’t talking to you, idiot. Yeah, I’m in a call, focus on the fucking game!” he yells at his friends before continuing, “Listen, got anything else to say besides bitching and whining at me? Last I recall, I gave you two fucking options, and so far you’ve chosen to ignore both. So explain to me why I should do anything for you, hm? Make it count, too, ‘cos I’m really tired of hearing you cry in my fuckin’ ears.”

Wow—he was just… wow.

“I’m sorry,” you say honestly, breaking that apology record after all.

“Mm? Come again? Couldn’t hear ya.” 

Tomura smiles expectantly.

At last, the breaking point. He’d hoped that ideally, it would’ve happened in class, with you kneeling before him in front of all NPCs to see, but this was okay too. He’s going to cut you a little more slack, you didn’t know who you were dealing with, after all. 

See? He can be merciful as well.

Your jaw tightens, eyes becoming glassy with wet sadness for the nth time today.

“I’m fucking sorry, o-okay?”

The weight comes crashing on you all at once, and you finally break down crying in front of the devil himself. 

You hear him saying ‘BRB’ and after some shuffling, the line becomes completely silent, save for your pathetic sobs. 

Is he just listening to you suffer? Was he that fucking cruel?

“I-I’m sorry for being such a—such a bitch to you in the store—f-for talking to you in class and g-getting you in trouble with the professor. I-I’m really fucking sorry. I didn’t know better,” you sob. “I shouldn’t have—shouldn't have talked out of turn, shouldn’t have upset you—” Your voice cracks and you choke, “I-I wish I’d never talked to you. I was stupid. R-Really, really stupid to cross you. Will you please, please take the thread down? I’ll make sure I’ve learned m-my place. I won't bother you again.”

You sound so pathetic even to your own ears, as you descend into the beginnings of a panic attack. It’s over. It’s all over. Your life is going to be destroyed after this. You’ll lose your scholarship, Taylor will leave you and you’ll finally buy that rope and fucking hang—

He should be feeling thrilled, ecstatic even, now that he’s finally gotten to crush you.

You, with your filthy fucking mouth, always cursing at him, always talking shit and trying to piss him off. You, who are like everyone else in this world, who’ll sneer and think you’re better than him. He’s put you in your place where you belong, like everyone else who tries to fuck with him. 

Held back, even.

That’s right, he’s holding back right now. He’s given you a choice and you finally used that stupid brain of yours to take it.

He should be feeling on top of the world, but instead he feels something twisting within him, hearing the broken desperation in your voice.

Ahhh. Anger. He’s feeling anger.

You wished you’d never talked to him? To never bother him again?

Shouldn’t you wish to be nicer? For him to forgive you? For him to like you?

The fuck kind of apology was this? Why were you so fucking clueless?

“That all?” he replies to your sobs, bored and indifferent.

“What?” you whisper.

“Is that fucking all, I asked. Are you fuckin’ deaf now or something?” He raises his voice at you and you flinch.

“I-I don’t u-understand, I’m being genuinely—”

“I DoN’t unDerStaAanD! Fucking—cry more, bitch,” Shigaraki mocks you. “You’re wasting my fucking time, so if that’s all you have to say, I’m hanging up.” 

Fuck, he’s let himself become defensive. He’s being irrationally angry right now, losing his cool.

This hurt feels new to him, and he’s only ever felt it around you. That’s right, it’s your fault.

It’s your fault you disrespected him when he’d asked to play with you. It’s your fault you thought you could get away with getting him in trouble, it’s your fault he’s feeling this way right now.

It’s your fucking fault, and he’s angry, so very angry that someone like you is able to get to him, to hurt—

You feel your knuckles turning white from the pressure of your fingertips against the plastic case of your phone.

“Can you stop being a fucking child f-for one f-fucking second, and talk to me so I can understand?!”

“There’s nothing for you to understand. You’re fucking retarded, and I’m gonna make sure you can’t set a single fucking foot outside your house, without feeling scared that rapists and stalkers are camping next to your door. Stupid bitch, maybe I’ll post the entire fucking thing today, give ‘em your address and get it over with,” he grunts, voice low and cold. “I lost the game too, ‘cos of your sorry ass.”

“—really fucking hate you, Shigaraki! But you’re used to people feeling like that about you, aren’t you? Fucking with my life—with people’s lives like you’re some—what? Some god?” you spit, abandoning all your reasoning. 

If he’s going to destroy your life too, might as well go down with a fight, right?

“You’re not, though,” you laugh bitterly, million thoughts racing through your head and you feel like your brain is gonna split. “You’re really not. You’re just a… you’re just a pathetic unoriginal asshole, and I can’t fucking believe how stupid I was to let myself—to ever think—to stoop so low and fucking feel like you’re—to fucking like someone like y—” 

There’s silence.

And then you hear Shigaraki inhale softly.

Blood drains from your face. 

Were you just about to… were you confessing to him?

Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid.

Your thumb hovers over the ‘end call’ button. Fuck this.

“What? What did you—what were you saying?”

“Fuck off,” you whisper, shoulders slumping.

“HEY! Repeat? What did you say? You can’t believe you what?” His voice is eager as he presses you, but you’re already checked out of the conversation.

“I said, go fuck yourself asshole. Pray I kill myself before I have to see you again.”

“If you fucking dare to hang up now, I swear to fucking GOD,” he yells, volume peaking again and you just end the call, turning your phone off and slumping in your chair.

Then, you giggle deliriously at the memory of you defending him a few hours ago. 

What were you even saying? Ahh, right! ‘Don’t pick on him because of silly rumors. Don’t say stupid shit if you don’t know him!’ 

You’re so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did you friendly fire at your best friend of all people? They were right. He’s just a piece of shit. You’d even cried in front of him, begging him to stop. You’d fucking apologized.

Pathetic. That’s all you are. Fucking pathetic.

“Fuck this whole world, honestly,” you whisper to yourself. 

Getting up, you grab your phone and use all your force to throw it across the room, hearing it smash against the wall and then fall to the floor. You hope it splintered and broke, the way you feel like your life has.

[femmmie]

THE ISLAND

Read the entire fic on AO3

Chapter 9: The crash

Things have taken a turn. What will Dave Dilford do now he's unemployed? Also, Ian, Shayne and Courtney are flying on Air Force 1. But Ian senses something's not right...

Chapter word count: 1.503

Rating: teen

“Effective immediately, Defy Media has ceased business.”

As soon as he read the e-mail, Dave Dilford dropped his phone.

“What the hell?!”

He scrambled to pick it back up. His custom Roblox case fell off, but he didn’t have time to put it back. He immediately called every member of the board.

“Shit! Pick up, you boring fucks!”

Noone responded.

As he walked out of his office, into the hall, several other people were already standing there. They were holding their phones and stared at each other with expressions of disbelief and just dumbfoundedness.

“Is it really true?” Dave mumbled, more to himself than to his colleagues. But one of them said, “yeah, we’re unemployed now.”

Suddenly, a junior consultant ran through the hall, screaming, “LET’S SET THIS BUILDING ON FIREEEE”.

This got everyone out of their trance, and they all walked to the lunch hall where people were already rioting.

“Hecox…” Dave balled his fists and punched one against the wall. In the chaos that surrounded him, nobody even noticed. He screamed and stormed out of the building.

Still fuming, and with a sore hand, he drove home in his Volkswagen Atlas Cross Sport. He was deep in thought. His plans were all ruined now. Helping this new guy win over the U.S. with a smile and a wink and nod, and memes. Dave had hoped to become chief of communications in the Hecox administration.

At home in his small living room, he switched on the tv. The news had just now broken about Defy.

“It is a grim day for president Hecox. Donors have fled ever since he shared his extreme and populist agenda. And now, superPAC Defy Media has stopped operations. Hecox’s radical decisions have been quite popular with the people but the former power players in Washington are not happy. Without access to the president, how can they advance their interests?”

“Hecox! You ruined me!” Dave stood up and called a number.

~

Ian, Shayne and Courtney entered Air Force One. They were headed to a foreign country to broker peace talks and try to get some sort of ceasefire deal.

“I love the country,” Courtney said. They were absolutely rocking a hot pink blazer and shorts. “But I don’t see how we’re going to stop this conflict… it’s gone on for so long.” They looked out of the window as the plane ascended.

“Yeah, and the people are so friendly! Why is it that good people elect terrible leaders so often? No offense, Ian.” Shayne shot Ian a playful smirk.

“None taken, man. Just wait until I decree statues of myself all over the world, with a huge dong of course.”

“Actually, that would be pretty awesome.”

Ian and Shayne often bantered like this, and Ian found some solace in it. But even so, he would love someone who would shock HIM with something outrageous. And Shayne had tried but never succeeded, at least not yet.

“It would be, right?”

“Guys!” Courtney said fake-exasperated.

After a few hours had passed, Ian looked out of the window. He saw blue skylines in every direction. And he got an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was this it?

He tried to act cool. “Shouldn’t we be there yet?”

Shayne was totally relaxed. “Maybe some high-altitude winds or something?”

“Only high-altitude wind here is Courtney’s passing gas all the time.”

“Hey!” Courtney protested with a burp.

Shayne kissed them on the cheek.

“Yall are disgusting,” Ian joked. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off.

“We haven’t heard from the pilot once yet, right? I find it a bit odd. Could you check with them on why we’re taking a detour?”

“Sure!” Shayne walked up to the cockpit.

~

They were falling, fast.

“What’s happening?!”

Courtney stumbled towards the cockpit where Shayne had disappeared just moments ago. Where was he? But then they heard shots, and a couple of loud thuds.

“Shayne!” Courtney shrieked. “Shayne!!”

No answer. The door of the cockpit was locked.

The oxygen was quickly running out and their vision became blurry. They banged their fists on the closed door, then tried to claw it open.

“Shayne, honey… please hold on… I’m… I’m on my way…”

~

What was left of the plane, was quickly filling with water and beginning to sink.

A black boat appeared out of the thick mist that lay over the water. And a guy dressed in all black dove in. He was under for a long time.

Tommy nearly fainted as he held his breath, standing on deck. He really didn’t like the sea. He did respect it, he wanted the best for it, but he didn’t want to be in, on or even near it. And he certainly didn’t want Spencer to risk his life diving around a sinking plane.

Tommy and Spencer had been stealthily following a speedboat. But their plans had dramatically changed as they saw Air Force 1 fall out of the sky.

Spencer immediately went into GI Joe mode. It was like a switch had flicked inside of him. From goofy and lovable back to being a dangerous spy.

He resurfaced with not one but two people. They were both unconscious.

Panting, he handed the bodies to Tommy. “Do you know CPR?”

“Uhm, uhh..” Tommy was stuttering. “Y- Yes, I am OSHA-certified…”

“Quickly, save their lives, I’m going back in.”

“But Spe-” and he was gone. Damn.

Tommy tried his hardest. The first person, a beefy blonde guy, barfed up some sea water and came to his senses. At first, he just blinked and tried to reorient himself. But then he saw the other person. He jumped up.

“Courtney!” Shayne cried, horrified.

“I’m going to try to get her back,” Tommy tried to reassure him.

Shayne kneeled at Courtney’s side and squeezed their hand. He was bleeding but he only had eyes for his beloved Courtney. Tears ran down his face, or maybe it was water still running down from his hair. “Please, save them…”

Tommy kept pumping, blowing air into their lungs… Shayne screamed, it was horrible to see someone so distraught up-close.

Finally, a whole heap of water catapulted out of Courtney.

They slowly opened their eyes. “Hmm, still better than My Favorite Coffee.”

Shayne took them into his arms and hugged them so tightly, Courtney winced.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, honey, are you okay?”

“As okay as you could be after a plane crash, I guess.” They said it so matter-of-factly that both Shayne and Tommy laugh-cried.

“Thank you so much, mister, for helping us. What an incredible coincidence that you just happened to be here!”

“Yeah, about that…” Tommy began, but Spencer resurfaced again.

“We have to go,” he said urgently.

“Where is the president?!” Shayne and Courtney protested.

“The president?!” Tommy gasped.

“NOW!” Spencer commanded and shuttled all of them into the cabin of the boat. He went out on deck once more and released a couple of lifeboats.

“That’s the best I can do for now, president Hecox, I’m sorry. But I’ve met my match.”

Spencer couldn’t believe it. All his years of experience couldn’t have prepared him for this.

There were several adversaries on board the sinking plane. How that could even happen was beyond him. But he fought most of them off easily, his martial arts training paying off handsomely.

Only one of them remained. Spencer had a hard time cornering him.

It wasn’t even a guard or a terrorist. He looked like some tech-bro or something. a sickly pale skin color, bags under his eyes… but a terrifying fire lay within them. Spencer had never known fear until he saw that face. His entire body told him this man was dangerous.

They brawled for a while but neither of them could get the upper hand. Until the guy took a can of gasoline that was randomly aboard the plane and got a golden anime-boob lighter out of his wet jorts.

“But the president is still out there!” Spencer had shouted, catching the guy off-guard.

“He’s still out there?! Okay, that’s even better!”

Dave licked his lips maniacally, and spat, “I am going to blow this shit up, so you better run, boy!”

Spencer was ashamed to say that he did run.

But there was still no explosion. Should he turn back? Had he failed? Spencer’s world was spinning.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, bringing him back to earth.

“Spencer?”

“Oh. Hey.”

Tommy hugged him.

“Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Thank you for saving those people’s lives.”

“We saved them together…” Tommy walked his fingers around Spencer’s neckline.

“I was pretty awesome, I’ll admit. It kinda felt like a Solid Snake mission.”

“Oh my god!” Tommy couldn’t help but laugh. Why was this FBI-agent also a gamer?

“Hey. Want an ice cream?” Spencer caught him off-guard.

“We have those on board?”

“Of course.”

Tommy blushed. “Spencer… you know exactly what I need.”

“Do I, now?”

Tommy got all four of them ice creams.

[strawberryfairi]

Synopsis✨: The story of how you catch heavy feelings for the hot photography student, Shuji Hanma…even though you already have the perfect (fake) boyfriend.

Pairings: Photography Student! Shuji Hanma X Dance Major! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️) Content: Drama, angst, sneaking link, lots of cheating, some dark moments, unserious Shuji, controlling parents, forced relationships, romance, fighting, porn with a good plot vibes, intense sexual tension, etc (just find out the rest lol)

w.c: 4.4k💠 Released: Jan 5, 2024

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2; NO FILTER 无滤镜

By the time you made it to the party, it had already been going on for an hour and a half. You were so over it at this point. You'd forgotten to even change out of your outfit when you got to the dorm so you're standing out front of this party in straight up sweatpants over your dance costume and basic all white air forces. At least you were serving face with your makeup look.

The music is blasting, and there's folks all over both outside and inside. The frat house is huge, a popular spot seeing as the parties here are always the best...and the wildest. There's always plenty of juicy stories after a night at the frat house.

When you walk inside you immediately start looking around for familiar faces. It was jam packed, making you slightly scrunch your face as you weave through the multitude of people. You searched around the first floor, looking through the dance floor in the living room, the halls where mostly people were kissing or whatever, then you finally find Ken in the kitchen area.

You abruptly stop, just as you were about to call out to him, noticing him and a few other guys from the team all being crowded around by a bunch of girls. Mostly cheerleader girls and their groupie friends to be exact.

Ken had one hand leaning on the counter next to some girl, basically caging her in as the other hand poured some Vodka into her mouth, cheering her on along with everyone else. Your heart dropped, face heating up rapidly as a mix of confusion, anger, and embarrassment seeped through you. What the hell was going on here?!

It also doesn't go unnoticed that some of the other guys on the team definitely have their arms around the waists of girls that were not their girlfriends.

Then after she finishes downing what he poured, she leans her head back upright, then randomly pulls him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. You gasp eyes going wide. You're only frozen for a few seconds before you storm fully into the kitchen. In your opinion it took Ken a little too long to finally come to his senses, pulling away from the kiss with his eyes widened in shock just as he sees you coming over angrily.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" You yell, pushing past everyone to stand directly in front of the two.

"Oh shit..." He mumbles under his breath.

"Hello?! Why's it quiet now?! I just asked you a question!" You outburst, snapping your fingers in front of their faces. This girl was vaguely familiar to you, but your mind was really in no condition to try and figure out where right now. She was a brunette, long haired girl with a butterfly tattoo sat right between her breasts. Of course she wore the perfect top to show it off.

"You didn't answer any of my texts. I thought you weren't even here." He says randomly. What the hell does that have to do with a whole other ass chick's lips on him?!

"I was still at the stadium before you left me. Why didn't you wait for me like you said?" You grit out.

Awkwardly, the girl slips her way passed the two of you, going over to where everyone else had also awkwardly migrated to. "The guys were rushing me, I didn't wanna hold them up-

"So you leave your girlfriend instead?! I had to walk all the way back to the dorms then Uber here, Ken! You were supposed to be my ride!" You rant.

"Hey hey, lower your damn voice." He narrows his eyes, tone actually having the audacity to be stern.

"Who-I know you ain't talkin' to me like I'm some child! Lower my voice?!" You scrunch your face up, only becoming angrier by the second.

"First of all, you left me when you said you were gonna wait, then I finally get here and I catch your sorry ass with some other girl all over you?! Kissing you?! Who the fuck even are you?! What happened in the last hour I've been away?! Like, what did I miss; enlighten me please!" You rant, throwing your hands up in frustration. At this point there was a good chunk of people just watching what was going on, whispers and murmurs started sparking up in the vicinity.

Ken clenches his jaw in annoyance, pissing you off yet again.

"I'm sorry, alright?! I'm a little crossed right now, and I didn't expect her to do something like that." He argues.

"Ohhhh ok, right right. So, we're just a little crossed and didn't expect her to do that. My thing is, why was she even that close to you in the first place? What are you pouring Vodka into her mouth for?" Your tone is blade sharp as you throw question after question his way.

You weren't necessarily yelling anymore but you were clearly seeing red. You swear Ken must've lost his mind in the last hour, because this is so unlike him. It's like he's completely forgotten who both of your parents were, like he forgot if they find out about something like this both of your careers could be over before they even start.

"Babe, babe, I apologized already. What else do you want me to do?! I didn't know she was gonna kiss me!" He argues, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

"How 'bout not put yourself in a position to even have something like that happen! This don't even make no sense, Ken! You just straight up let her kiss you, like, I watched you hesitate! Had I not come over here would you have even stopped?!" Your eyes start to well up with tears, voice shaking slightly as you try to maintain your angry demeanor.

You hated that he wasn't even trying to comfort or reassure you or anything. He has the nerve to just try to brush it under the rug like it wasn't that big of a deal. You knew for a full fact had this been the other way around he'd probably have caused the loudest riot, and your parents would for sure find out.

He doesn't say a word, just watches you as you try to keep your composure together. No 'let me fix this, babe', no nothing. Sure the two of you are a fake couple with no real feelings of love towards each other, but he could at least act like he cares that you're upset. You sure would. Then to make matters worse, if rumors about this starts to spread, your mom will definitely hear about it.

"Tch." You push passed him and quickly head out of the kitchen, avoiding looking at everyone staring as you storm out.

Embarrassed couldn't even begin to cover how you felt right now. You couldn't believe he disrespected you and the relationship like this, and then went as far as to give that half-assed apology as if that was acceptable! He could've at least tried to come after you when you walked out of the kitchen! You sniffle, trying to calm yourself down as you figure out somewhere fairly secluded to go.

You're back in the living room dance floor area now, the most crowded part of the whole house. You've been to enough parties here to know all of the avoid spots. The living room: where everyone comes to dance as the DJ set is there, the basement: x activities that shall not be named, the balcony upstairs: all the potheads love it there, the bathrooms: illegal drugs...that's all that needs to be said, and the bedroom: other x activities that shall not be named. Even though that seemed like the entire house, there were a few spots left you could go.

Weaving through the multitude of people, you stay close to the wall, heading through the living room and straight out of the sliding glass door. This frat house, as stated before, is very huge, big enough to have a large pool area outside that you can get to from the living room's sliding glass door.

You quickly speed walk to the poolside area, then plop yourself down on one of the pool chairs just as the tears started flowing down your cheeks.

You had fought so hard to keep your makeup looking nice, trying not to cry, but it just seemed like tears were inevitable tonight. Using the sleeve of your costume you gently dab your face, not wanting anything to smear so you don't end up giving the Joker from Batman.

You take a deep breath, exhaling through your nose as you lay back against the pool chair, looking up at the stars somberly. What has this night come to? Everything was so great, then it just...wasn't. Maybe losing your moms gift to you was a sign, 'cause right after that things took a hard left turn.

You felt like you only had a brief moment to even take in your huge accomplishment, now it's like you didn't even do it. This was supposed to be your celebration, your big night with Ken.

We'll see each other tonight, baby. We'll have the whole night actually....

"Liar..." You whisper to yourself bitterly, closing your eyes as you let out an exasperated sigh, feeling completely drained of energy at this point. Oddly enough the sound of the muffled music coming from inside was starting to become almost soothing, mixing harmoniously with the sounds of crickets and echoed conversations. You could actually fall asleep to this...

"You get lost or somethin'? The party's inside."

You jump with a loud yelp, almost falling out of the pool chair as a deep, male voice cuts into the silence. You look around frantically before your eyes fall on some random dude laying in one of the pool chairs to the left of you. He was about four chairs away from you, fully laid out with a cigarette between his fingers, one eye open as he looks over at you lazily. He was dressed pretty basic for a party, nothing but a white v-neck top and jeans. But who were you to talk though...

"Who-who-?! You're sayin' am I lost like you're not out here also." You narrow your eyes, looking him over with a scrutinizing gaze.

Now who the hell is this dude talkin' to?! You weren't really sure since you had your eyes closed earlier, but you figured you were definitely out here first.

"Got me there." He murmurs with a shrug, then pauses before speaking again. "You that dancer girl? The one with the anklet?" He asks slowly, before taking a fairly long drag from his cigarette.

"Wait, the anklet? You seen my anklet?!" At this you sit up completely, eyes wide as you impatiently wait for his answer. He opens both of his eyes finally, then reaches into his left back pocket, taking out your gold anklet. You gasp like a fish out of water, jumping up to your feet and practically running over to him.

"Oh my god! I was looking all over for this! How'd you find it?!" You ramble excitedly. You probably looked like a happy golden retriever with the way you're demeanor completely lit up.

"I didn't. I caught it when it flew off your ankle. Woulda hit me in the face if I didn't catch it." He says with a slight grin, chuckling at the memory of being attacked by your jewelry.

"You caught it?! Is it broken?! Lemme see it!"

He hands you your anklet, letting you observe it and check the clasp. Everything seemed fine with it, but you made a mental note to maybe take it in to a jeweler to get it checked out sometime just in case. "Well, thank you for..catching it." You chuckle lightly, sitting down on the pool chair next to him so you could hook it back around your ankle, this time making sure it was done right.

"'S nothin'. What's your name?"

You tell him your name just as you finish clasping your anklet. "Pretty. I'm Shuji Hanma." He says coolly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Thanks." You say with an uncharacteristically bashful laugh. Before you hadn't really been paying too much attention to what this guy looks like, but now that you were sitting up closer, you could really look at him.

Long story short, Hanma's gorgeous, with those honey brown eyes and that deep, sensual voice. He has a single gold earring in his left ear, a unique drop design. He looks pretty tall, yet he's also very muscular, maybe a basketball player you think.

Your eyes trail over to his large veiny hands, with tattoos of some sort of Chinese writing on the back of them, and his long, slender fingers. His hair is fairly short, black, and tussled messily to perfection with blonde highlights in the front that hangs slightly over his eyes. Your face instantly began to heat up as your eyes selfishly continued to drink him in.

You don't smoke, but there's something about the way he's so casually taking those drags, something about his full, pink lips and the way they blow the smoke into the air. He's so effortlessly sexy, and from the way he seems to carry himself, he must know it too.

"Havin' a good time over there eye fuckin' me?" He asks smugly, a small smirk making it's way across his perfect lips as he takes a drag.

"I-I wasn't eye-fucking you!" You stammer, voice unnaturally higher pitched as your face completely set on fire, embarrassed that he caught you staring. 

"No? Just thinkin' in my direction or somethin'?" He teases, blowing smoke in front of him as he looks at you with his head tilted inquisitively. You purse your lips in a frown, unsure of a good comeback, only furthering your embarrassment. He let's out a breathy chuckle, shoulders shaking just slightly.

"Doesn't bother me, doll, you can fuck me with those pretty eyes all you want. It's better in real life though." He shrugs plainly, full on smirking.

Your jaw hits the floor dumbstruck, blinking multiple times as you process what he just said. Nobody has ever talked to you like this before, especially not someone you've just met. It's so bold and nonchalant...and sexy. "Again, I wasn't eye-fucking you. I was just...lookin' at your tattoos." You lie, well, it was partially true.

"Oh yeah? You like 'em?" He asks with a particularly seductive dip in his tone, looking you straight in the eyes. His gaze is so intense you couldn't help but look away, too fearful you'd be sucked in and swallowed whole if you looked any longer.

"Well yeah. I don't know what they mean though." You shrug plainly, hoping to mask the shyness creeping its way up to the surface. He sits up from the pool chair, turning to face you and leaning onto his knees, getting fairly close into your personal space. You don't dare back away, holding your ground as he shows you the back of his hands, his cigarette resting between his fingers in his right hand. 

"They say sin and punishment'" He says lowly, showing you each hand with a proud yet mischievous looking grin on his face.

"Oh..." You murmur sheepishly. The way he explained that made you squeeze your thighs together, visibly swallowing as yours eyes flicker from his hands to his eyes. Hanma's lips curve into an almost devious looking smirk, loving the obvious effect he was having on you.

You felt stuck, like a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. It's the way his eyes so boldly swallow you up without a single care if you notice or not. You had to change the subject quick, lighten things up before you unintentionally set yourself on fire.

"So...I'm assuming we go to the same school. What's your major?" You ask as pleasantly and coolly as possible.

"Digital photography." He replies, leaning back a bit.

"Oh really?! I was not expecting that. You're the first photography major I've met so far here." You say the last part more to yourself. It seems today is actually the most time you've spent around the photography and journalism majors thanks to that interview this morning.

"There's not too many of us I think." He shrugs before taking a slight pause. "You seem like too good'a dancer to be doing it as a side thing." He raises a brow slightly.

"Oh yeah, I'm one of the dance majors for sure." You laugh softly.

"You looked good out there during the halftime show. I got a lot'a nice shots."

As soon as he said that it clicked how he'd be able to catch your anklet. The photographers were the only people able to be on the field during the halftime show, so of course he caught it. "Thanks! I hope I can see them at some point." You smile softly, unconsciously fiddling with your hands on your lap.

He goes quiet for a moment, looking to the side in thought. "You could see 'em now if you want."

"What d'you mean?"

"My camera's in my car out front. Wanna see 'em?" He offers again.

You bite the inside of your lip, brows slightly furrowed. Sure going into this guy's car to look at pictures seemed innocent, but at the exact same time, this isn't just any guy. He's gorgeous, with those tempting eyes that makes your mind fog whenever you look at them for more than a second. Hanma's dangerous for you, he's way too attractive to be playin' around.

You're taken, and even though you're beyond pissed at Ken, that's unfortunately who your man is.

However, no matter how loudly the alarm bells rang in your head.... "Yeah." You nod, feeling your heart skip a beat in a mind-fuzzing blend of anxious excitement.

And as if he couldn't get any more attractive, slowly your head lifts as you watch him stand to his full height, towering over you like a damn skyscraper.

Lord have mercy on your soul.....

Hanma leads you around the house from outside, avoiding all the weaving and dipping through people, and straight to his car, and damn, even his car is good looking. A shiny black Dodge Hellcat with dark tinted windows sat there proudly in front of the party house.

You wanted to facepalm at this point. This was just getting ridiculous now. "Hang on a sec." He murmurs, unlocking the car and opening the passenger side, grabbing the camera that was sitting there in its case. He leaves the door open, helping you in to which you utter a small "Thank you." "Mhm." He nods, closing the door and getting in at the drivers side. The car smelled just like him, cigarettes and that wildly intoxicating cologne he's wearing.

You were pretty sure he didn't feel the same, with the way he's sitting there all cool and chill while doing whatever he's doing with that expensive looking camera, but you were inwardly shaking in your boots. The silence felt so heavy, and you weren't sure how to sit or where to look, so you just fiddled with the sequins on your costume, reminding yourself that your boyfriend was just right inside the frat house.

His cigarette was gone you realized, just as he turned to look at you again, the camera roll finally showing the pictures from tonight. "Here, just hit the arrow to go to the next one." He instructs smoothly, handing you the Canon camera. His slender fingers brush against yours as you grab the device, sending immediate shockwaves down your spine from the back of your neck.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look at the first picture on the screen. You looked so flawless you almost didn't even recognize yourself. Though the day had been so stressful, on the field you looked like a dancing goddess, the costume and makeup sparkling under the stadium lights like some kind of ethereal glow.

"Oh my gooooosh! This looks-this is so..." You trail off unable to really find the right descriptive word, your mouth still hanging open slightly. Hanma chuckles breathily, watching you look at the picture in amusement. You take one last long look at the first one, then go on to the next one.

It was just as beautiful as the previous picture. You were in the middle of your intro solo still, he'd caught you with both hands on your hips and a wide smile, your right leg shifted in front of the left making you look particularly statuesque.

Your heart grew warmer and warmer with each picture you went through, not a single one was a flop, not even a little bit. These are the types of pictures your parents would pay hundreds just to keep and show off to their coworkers and neighbors. "Wanna see my favorite?" He murmurs, cutting into the silence. "Your favorite? Sure." You hand the camera back, curious as to which picture he'd show you.

He clicks the arrow through about seven more pictures, going past it for a second before he finally went back, his lips curving upwards slightly when he saw it. "This one. This is the one."

You let out a small gasp, leaning over the armrest as he shows you the picture. It was-no-you were stunning, and you knew exactly which part of the dance that was too. You'd just finished the moment of holding the split during Emma's brief solo. Then as you come up from the ground you'd enter into a spin and stop with your leg pointed outwards, your left hand on your hip as the right is outstretched, and your fingers point down and outwards.

The angle he took the shot in made it seem like you were looking right at the camera, it caught your eyes perfectly. Your expression was fierce due to the part of the song it was at, and your hair was in the middle of flowing with the breeze.

"This is so beautiful." You smile, almost wanting to tear up. For the first time the whole night you finally felt like you had a chance to bask in that half time show moment. Everything had moved so fast afterwards, there was no time to stop and look at posts or pictures. You knew for a fact though that peoples posts on their stories had nothing on Hanma's professional pictures. "You're real easy to take shots of. Every move you made was perfect." He says, his tone strikingly serious.

"Thanks." You chuckle bashfully, looking to the side as you try to force your heart to stop doing that annoying fluttering.

Easy girl, calm down, he's just being nice. It's just a compliment. Think about Ken, just think about Ken...

Hanma goes through a few of the pictures to see for himself before he speaks again. "Y'know, you make a good muse." He says softly, eyes still fixed on the pictures he's sifting through. "A muse? Like, I'm inspirational?" You tilt your head to the side.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." He chuckles a little. Setting the camera on his lap, he looks you over, up and down and back up, making your face turn hot instantly as you shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat. "What?" You murmur, furrowing your brows in a slight pout. You were sure you'd never be able to get used to his piercing eyes and the way they trail all over you so boldly.

"I've had this idea for a project I wanna do, but I haven't been able to find the right model until you." He explains, looking back up into your eyes.

"Me?! Hold up, you want me to model for you?" You gawk, your face contorted into a look of pure shock. His lips curve into a wide, excited grin, eyes almost sparkling as he seems to have made up his mind.

"I do. You're perfect." He nods, his voice velvety smooth, just like honey.

Again you fold under the sound of his voice and sensual eyes, looking at your hands now nervously fiddling with themselves in your lap. "I-I don't have really any experience with any modeling. I mean, dancers do portraits and stuff but...what kind of modeling do you want me to do?" You stammer bashfully, trying yet failing to hold any sort of confident eye contact with him.

"Nothin' you wouldn't be able to do easily. I need a full body, half naked silhouette of you; something in dark lighting." He says, a bit vaguely in your opinion.

A half naked silhouette in dark lighting...with a guy like him?! Now the alarms were really flashing, but at the same time, it was for professional, career related things. There's no harm in helping someone out with their project, right? You knew all about the frustrations of trying to gather people to help bring your vision to life, so you figured why not help him out.

"Uhhh, I mean, I guess I could do it. Is it an urgent project?" You raise a brow a bit, looking over at him briefly.

"If by urgent you mean for a class then no. This is more of a personal portfolio kind'a thing." He shrugs.

A personal thing? So it's no particular guidelines...

"K. Well, let me know when you wanna do it. I'll find some time in my schedule." You nod.

"Perfect. Lemme see your phone, angel." He purrs, holding his hand out lazily. You try to ignore his flirtatious tone and that name he just called you, reaching in your sweatpants pocket. You take out your phone and unlock it, already knowing to pull up your contacts app. Another jolt shoots down your spine as your fingers make contact again while you hand him your phone. "Cool." He smirks, satisfied that you opened to the app without him having to ask, putting his number and name in.

You went and sent him a text, "Heyyy" with two exclamation points so he could save your number in his own phone.

Why'd it feel so wrong to have his number in your phone? This was just a business thing, a collaboration, right? If you weren't so attracted to him it wouldn't feel like nearly as much of a problem as it does now, and maybe if he wouldn't call you angel or doll with that sexy ass voice, that'd probably make it feel better.

Then if Ken hadn't pissed you off beyond belief, it wouldn't feel like you were doing this out of spite, hanging with some guy you just met at a party since Ken wanted to spend his time with another girl and his sports buddies. But you have no intention of cheating though, so...technically there's nothing wrong, right?

There's nothing wrong about this....

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Ooool, what y'all bouta get into puttin' dat man number in y'all phoooone?!?! Teehee, hope y'all enjoyed and I'll have the next chapter up soon! It's finna go DEEOWN next chapter okaaay! Like, comment, reblog please, love you all💖

[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name

Part Nine

A/n: This part's a little longer than the others, but it just ended up turning out that way, I started writing it over the course of the weekend and kept adding to it I suppose:) Hope you enjoy x

Also! Look back to my recent post if you'd like to see what Birdie and George see in the beginnings of this part!

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Masterlist

--

Somehow we’d managed to find ourselves down by the canals, a portion of chips shared between the two of us from the nearby chippy, watching as all the houseboats sailed in.

Honestly, it all felt a little too much like the old days. When I would complain about there not being enough salt to counter the vinegar and George wrinkling his nose at the lack of ketchup.

But even with the ache I felt as we went through the motions, neither one of us commenting on the familiarity of it all, I still couldn’t bring myself to regret following after him. I mean, if I hadn’t then I’d just be sat at home, wallowing in self-pity, letting myself spiral over thoughts of him, and my mum, and life in general.

Here I was though. By his side. 

And it was strange, because last week, if anyone had told me that I’d be here, with George of all people, I’d probably have laughed in their face. 

But I guess it was sort of funny how much time could change things.

“Oi, leave it out, would you.” George muttered grumpily as he swatted my hand away from the sauce staining the side of the takeaway box. “You don’t even like ketchup.”

I scoffed at him, pursing my lips and picking up another chip to swipe through his precious red sauce just because I could. “I do- ’s just not my favourite.”

He rolled his eyes at my shrug, then pulled the box closer towards him. I glared halfheartedly. “Still, I fucking asked for it so you can piss off.”

“What and eat my chips dry?”

George just enlarged his eyes to show how little he cared about the issue at hand and shoved another two into his massive gob. I raised a brow.

“Twat.” I mumbled, but couldn’t stop myself from smiling like an idiot when his foot nudged my ankle.

We sat quietly then, just chewing away, and I diverted my gaze downwards to where our legs were dangling freely, just swinging in perfect time to the water’s current below. George’s big black boots and the vintage Reebok’s Matty had thrown at me the previous Christmas reflecting back up at us.

The canals were typically quite popular the farther upstream you got, especially during the day. But if you knew where to look, you could hide away from the rest of the city for as long as you pleased. Only having to deal with the braver lot of carp and the small boats which passed by.

George and I were currently tucked under a guardrail. One of those shitty ones that didn’t really do much ‘guarding’ and were mostly just bended poles of corroding metal- our arms were leant against its middle. He had the chip box propped on his left knee and there was now a small stain just beside it, blemishing his jeans from where I’d accidentally dropped a splodge of ketchup earlier.

George hadn’t minded in the least though, he’d merely licked his thumb and smudged it away, leaving me to nod dopily as he carried on with what he’d been saying. Him none the wiser whilst I’d struggled to advert my stare from his mouth. But when was he ever?

Time passed us by and my mind started to wander, ultimately I found myself wanting to ask him what he got out of all this. Out of today, I supposed. Because really, all of this had been his idea. From meeting up in the first place and having me tagalong to the pub, to us sat right here. Reenacting old memories like nothing was awry.

I happened to sniff then, the cold evening air had always had a knack for making my nose run, but there George was handing me over a napkin as though he’d been preparing for it. I stared at it for a second too long before I finally took it, thanking him softly. He just checked my shoulder in turn.

It all felt a little too perfect. Like the calm before a storm.

“You feelin’ any better?” George asked me round a bite as I stole another ketchup covered chip. 

I glanced towards him, thinking it through, and decided on a shrug. “Reckon so.”

He merely hummed in reply, and so I did the same.

“How about you?”

The faint lines that worried his forehead deepened at my question, “What’d you mean?”

I chuckled under my breath already reaching back towards the box. “You.” I summarised, shaking my head softly at how lost he seemed. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine?” George supplied with a tiny frown, phrasing his answer to sound more like a question. “Why you asking?”

“Am I not allowed to ask?” I shot back, resting my cheek against the arm which separated my face from the rail, feeling full now.

He thought about it, then jerked a shoulder, scraping the remnants of sauce from the side of the container. “No, you are. Just, I don’t know, didn’t expect it, is all.”

I continued to stare at him in wait, until he huffed and finally relented. 

“‘M fine. Just worried about you, I ‘spose.”

It was my turn then to frown. “What you worrying about me for?”

George quirked an eyebrow at me, like I should’ve already known the answer to that question, but I kept my gaze steady. And in turn, he scrunched up his nose and sniffed, closing the chip box lid and placing it down somewhere on his other side so that he could shuffle more towards me.

“Truth?” He said, and I found myself startled by it. 

It was just a word. One simple word, but it was ours. And the very mention of it had my heart wrenching in my chest as though he’d just gone and wrung it out like a wet towel to dry. Water puddling in the empty space between us where our legs should’ve met.

I forced myself to swallow down the sudden emotion and focus on him. Always on him.

“Truth.” I parroted back quietly, voice drifting in the open air, casting itself out like a line tethered to my soul and into the murky water of the canal. George’s dark brown eyes met mine.

“I’m scared you’ll drown.”

I blinked, eyes flitting between his own. Back and forth. Beyond confused.

“What?” I let go of an airy chuckle and tilted my head at him.

George just raised a hand, pulling a leg up from the towpath whilst he allowed the other to continue to dangle, bending it so he could better face me. “Just hear me out, yeah?”

Still a tad bewildered I merely nodded, unable to object.

“What I meant is,” He exhaled slowly, trying to piece together the puzzle of his mind. 

I gave him the moment, knowing how much he preferred to gather his thoughts so that he could string them together clearly enough to get his point across. He wasn’t too fond of being misunderstood. Of people figuring that they knew what he meant, before he even did.

“I don’t know how to word it properly without you getting upset.” George licked at his lower lip, slouching slightly with his back to the guardrail. He seemed really worked up over it in truth, and almost thoughtlessly I found myself extending a hand out towards his knee. His stare flitted down towards it, but he didn’t pull away.

“I can’t promise it won’t upset me, but I’m a big girl, G. I can handle it, and if I can’t then I’ll let you know.” I assured him but I had to pull my hand away then, afraid that I was toeing a line I wasn’t too sure still existed after the way we’d ended things.

George worried the inside of his cheek but his stoney face gave away no note to his anxieties, eventually he dipped his head at me.

“I just- alright, I don’t want to dredge up the past, but I can’t help but think about how everything will affect you. Maybe not right now, but later on.” He spoke, “‘Cause I know you, Birdie. Better than most I’d like to think. And so I already know that once I head home, I’ll be up most of the night worrying over whether or not you’re actually doing okay, whether you’re still up too. Drowning in it all. ‘Cause even with everything that's happened between us, I still fucking care. You’ve got to know that much at least.”

He heaved a heavy breath out of his lungs and rubbed at his eyes before he casted a tired glance out over the canal, focusing on the mossy algae that lined its surface. But he wasn’t done there. No, that arrow he’d shot straight into my chest just had to splinter. 

“And it killed me, you know. Seeing you fall apart today. Just at the simple fucking reminder of it all. Made me just want to take your hand and run.”

I stared at him. At the side of his face, the bridge of his nose, the fall of his lips. Eyes growing glossy and hands faintly shaking the longer I did so, trying to figure out what it was I was meant to say in response to that.

I had to use the second he gave me to figure my heart out.

“You can’t say things like that to me.”

George’s head snapped in my direction upon hearing my muted whisper, and his serious expression crumbled in the very same moment, having witnessed my own. He reached out, only to stop himself short before his hand could actually brush against the bone of my cheek, his stare never faulting, eyes trailing over the outline of where he should’ve been able to touch. Where he’d once been allowed to.

His hand stayed hovering there.

“You can’t, George.” I forced out, tears prickling my eyes again, nose tingling. I forced myself to turn my head, dragging down my sleeve to wipe at my face. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”

“Why? Why don’t I?” He stressed to me in a hushed breath and I could still feel the ghost of his touch. The brush of his fingers from where he used to tuck my hair behind my ear. The imprint of his thumb on my hip. His knuckles against my cheek. Mouth against my collar. 

We were close now. Closer than we should have been. Because I could practically feel his warmth in the cold evening chill. His nose there, rubbing at my own. But I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let him in again. Not after all the shit he’d put me through before. Not when I still didn’t know why he’d ended things the way he had in the first place.

I let my eyes slip close but forced myself to pull away.

“Because you can’t treat me like an old friend, George. Like someone who’s indispensable to you.” I replied, grateful for the fact I couldn’t see his reaction to my pitiful words. “Someone who you can push and pull out. ‘Cause I can’t do that, not right now. Not with you. I can’t be your friend when all I really wanna do is forgive and forget. But you put me through hell, G. Fucking hell. And never once have you given me a reason as to why. I’ve spent the last six months just trying to work it out. Agonising over where I went wrong. But it wasn’t me that fucked this up in the first place. Was it?”

I struggled to reopen my eyes, to glance back up and look at his face. But eventually I did, and even though the sight of him practically rendered me frozen, I still found the strength to push back. To pull away. And I stood in that next moment, on shaky legs mind, only to look down at him. He stared back at me.

“Let me know what you want when you finally figure it out.”

—

Leaving him there, it’d been hard. But when had things ever gone right for me, when had life ever given me an easy go of it? And even though both my mind and my heart had been screaming at me to turn back- just turn back! I’d forced myself to go on. To struggle through it.

So by the time I made it home, it was a ten to eight and I had to withhold a sigh when I noticed that I’d left the lights on in my earlier hurry to get out of the front door.

My bottom lip was also torn and bitten from where I’d been chewing at it during the long walk back, trying not to think about the way I’d left things. Fretting over whether or not I’d done the right thing, made the best call. And so I could taste the distinct tang of blood when I tugged my house keys from the confines of my coat, feeling like a complete wreck as I climbed the steps just outside.

I came to an abrupt halt though when I found a figure settled in my doorway, back pressed to the frame and legs splayed out carelessly before them as their head lulled against the brickwork, eyes closed in a peaceful slumber.

I kicked at the foot closest to me and continued to stare down at the sleeping twat laid out on my front step.

Said twat startled awake and appeared to jump at the unexpected connection- which would’ve humoured me any other day, but it seemed as though this one had taken its toll on me. Or in short, it had shat on my bed and made me lie in it.

“What’re you doing here?” I finally found the strength to ask as I moved in closer.

The lump only groaned groggily in response, rubbing at the bridge of its nose. Then with a furrowed brow, looking this way then that, it tried to get ahold of its bearings as the rush of adrenaline flooded its sleep filled brain.

“Ross called.” Was all that Matty had to offer me as I stepped over him, fumbling to try and find the right key to fit my lock. 

I’d figured as much.

“You were out late.” He added after he realised that I wouldn’t be offering up much of a reply, pulling himself to his feet. I titled my head over towards him with a blank expression as I worked the lock, only to find him smirking back at me.

With a small shake of my head, I opened the door and stepped through, quick to kick off my trainers and coat.

“How vigilant of you, Matthew.” I retorted in a vacant tone. Hollow enough for Matty to cut his eyes over at me, lips pursing as he slowly hung up his trench on the hook beside mine.

“You only ever call me that when you’re acting all pissy over something.”

I shrugged at him then padded into the kitchen, flicking on the light whilst I headed on over towards the sink. I heard his footfalls follow me a second later and glanced up to see him reappear in the doorway, eyeing me closely.

“Ross reckoned you were alright, said he’d left you with G outside the pub.”

I braced myself against the counter and turned to look out the window, seeing a whole lot of darkness greet me in return, enough that I could visibly make out my own reflection in the glass. I looked a state.

“I’m always alright, Matty.” 

Then I turned on the tap and proceeded to fill a glass with water.

I must’ve have lost myself staring into space because the next thing I knew, Matty was beside me and turning off the flow of water. I blinked down at the half full basin then over towards him. He looked as tired as I felt.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, but he only frowned.

“What happened?”

Matty wasn’t the type to let anyone evade a question, he was stubborn to a fault, almost as bad as me. Which is why I already knew that he wouldn’t be letting this go anytime soon.

“I’m knackered, Matty. Can’t we just fall asleep watchin’ the tele and talk tomorrow?” I sighed but was met with a hardened stare. He only prompted me on further with a raised brow and so I huffed and slumped my way out of the kitchen.

He was like a stray pup though, licking at my heels, because he followed me in a minute after.

I’d already taken up my usual spot on the end of the L-shaped settee I’d bought when I’d first moved in. It’d been during my first trip out furniture shopping and George had been with me at the time- was actually the one to spot it in truth. I remembered how he’d plopped himself down in the very seat I was currently sat in and hadn’t budged until I was laughing away and telling the salesman that I’d take it.

I found myself smiling faintly at the memory. Only blinking it back to the place where it now resided, in a far corner of my mind, when Matty waved the glass I’d left in the kitchen in front of my face. I took it from him silently, thanking him with a tiny smile for having brought it in. He took the open spot beside me.

“Gon’ talk now?” He roused, cross-legged on my settee, dressed in a pair of bootcut jeans and an all too familiar hoodie.

“Real question is, why’ve you got on George’s jumper?” I digressed, pulling the remote out of the side of the arm so that I could switch on the tv. I didn’t need to ask though, we both knew how typical it was for all of the guys to swap and steal clothes from one another whilst on tour, Matt and G especially. But this was just the easiest way to stall him.

He peered down at his torso, frowned, then rolled his eyes. “Trust you to notice- but I don’t know. Mine now though, ain’t it?”

I snorted, flipping through channels. “How so?”

“Comfy.” Matty shrugged, then sort of seemed to realise what was happening and shook himself out of it. “Anyway,” He drawled, digging a knuckle into my thigh hard enough for me to kick at him to get him to stop, “Ow, you bitch. Will you just talk to me now? I only wanna know what’s happenin’ inside that mad head of yours.”

I scowled and slapped at the finger he’d used to poke my temple with, he evaded my grasp by an inch. “Right now? It’s just many visions of your impending death.”

“Ooh, how emo.”

With a deadened expression, I chucked the remote at his head and stuck two fingers up at him in retort when he turned back towards me with a hurt squawk. “Piss off, Matty.”

“You piss off.” Matty grumbled, rubbing at the back of his skull in a sulk before he grabbed me by my ankles and tugged me forwards.

And to think I’d almost begun to feel bad about hitting him with tele remote.

“Come on, just let me in!” He pestered.

“I’ve already let you into my house, doesn’t that suffice enough?” I quipped back with an irritated sort of growl whilst trying to right myself again. I dug my heel into his hip as I did so and smirked at the hiss he fixed me with.

“No- and stop with the fucking fighting.” He retorted with a grumpy frown. “Gonna leave here with bruises tomorrow. Wouldn’t want your neighbours to talk.”

His eyes met mine then and I could see that he was serious, he wouldn’t be leaving without a fight. Stubborn prat.

I huffed. “Fine.”

Matty smiled in victory and lifted my own feet up into his lap, settling his arms on my calves. Obviously glad that I’d finally come to my senses and relented.

“Alright, so Ross said you were with G when he last saw you. Is that where you were just headed back from?”

I hummed a sound of accent, “Why’s it so important where I was anyway?”

“Don’t be a tit.” Matty scolded lightly, then continued on as though he’d not been interrupted at all. “Where were you two at then?”

“What are you my dad now?” I mocked, comfortable now in the position I’d been moulded into. “Want me to tell you we were shagging ‘round the back of a Kfc?”

Matty’s mouth tugged up into a sly grin. “Only if you were.”

I rolled my eyes and went to see what channel I’d happened to land on, but my attention was dragged back to Matty when he tugged on the cuff of my trouser.

“Come on! It’s like pulling fucking teeth with you.”

I bared my grin in return and he huffed out a reluctant laugh.

“Really, I just wanna help, love. Might stop you bein’ miserable.”

I released a lungful of air, slouching further into the settee in hopes that it would swallow me up. But when that didn’t happen, I just gifted Matty a small apologetic smile.

“Don’t wanna bore you.”

“Biggest lie. You love rambling to me about all the shit going on in your life. Just last week you were on the phone to me, crying about how badly you needed a piss whilst stood in the queue at Waitrose.”

I gasped in mock horror. “It was a Sainsbury’s, you toff! Some of us don’t have the cash to spare shopping there with the likes of you.”

Matty narrowed his eyes at me but didn’t have a leg to stand on here, knew it too. So instead he just jabbed at me again. And I had to retaliate.

We were both a breathless mess by the time we’d decided to call it quits, me getting one last hard hit in before scuttling back to my seat. I laughed, rosy cheeked and disheveled, when Matty used the side table to lug himself back onto the settee, half-dead.

“I was at a disadvantage.” He muttered, splayed out now as he tried to catch his breath.

“Disadvantage, how?” I chuckled, though I didn’t know how it was possible seeing that my lungs were still struggling to cooperate with me.

“Can’t hit a girl proper.”

“Oh yeah? And I here I thought you were a feminist!” I couldn’t help but tease, poking at his waist with my foot. He grunted, waving me away.

“I already surrendered. Leave off.”

I laughed to myself as I relaxed further into my seat and watched as Matty struggled to drag his body down the other end, feet finding mine somewhere in the middle.

We were quiet then for a while, just the sound of the tele and our laboured breathing to be heard.

I glanced back towards him when he sighed, locking his legs around one of mine. My hand found his ankle.

“Yeah?”

Matty stared back at me from under hooded eyes, he was getting more and more sleepy by the minute, that much was obvious, but it seemed he had yet to let up. “What did happen after you saw your mum?”

My gaze drifted down to where I was holding his foot, and I seemed to play thoughtlessly with the cuff of his sock. I shrugged a shoulder, pursing my lips as I blew out a breath. “I dunno. Just felt, off.”

“Off like shocked, thrown off kilter? Or ‘Oh shit, the world is now spinning on its head and there’s a clown stood in that far corner’ sort of off?”

“Second.” I deemed, not even fazed by his musings.

Matty hummed and thought it over. “But Ross reckoned you were doing alright by the time he left you.”

I shrugged again, unable to do much else it seemed. “I was. I mean, we had a bit of a tiff but I got over it and we hugged it out. But you know how Ross and me work.”

He just continued to watch me though and so I felt the strange urge to carry on.

“Said our goodbyes, then G and I went and got some food afterwards.”

This was where Matty decided to butt in. “From where?”

“Chippy up by the swing bridge.”

Matty’s eyebrows rose, “So you went down by the canals then?”

I peered back at him through slitted lids. “Alright, didn’t realise we had Sherlock on the sodding case.”

He winked in turn, “I’m just that good, babe.”

With a snort, I could only roll my eyes. “Hm, so you say. But I’ve got a line of girls who’d claim otherwise.”

“That right?” Matty replied, appearing to think it over. “Always wondered what it’d be like if all my exes got together in some sort of group.”

“What the self-help kind?”

I should’ve anticipated the kick he gave me.

“Oi, thought you didn’t hit girls!”

He gave me a snide smile, locking my legs with his before I could strike back. “Well, that was before I decided you look a lot like Woody Allen.”

“Bastard!” I gasped, pinching at his toe. He squirmed slightly, hissing, before he loosened his hold.

“Like calls to like, and all that crap.”

We shared an amused smile, and allowed the fight to dwindle.

“So,” Matty harrumphed, “down by the canals…”

I sighed, toying with a loose thread on his jean. “Yeah, ended up sitting on the edge sharing a portion of chips.”

He frowned at me, “What, like you lot used to?”

My jaw ticked as I hollowed out my cheeks to avoid actually having to answer him, and shrugged.

“Oh, love.” Matty consoled with a sad smile that SCREAMED pity, so much so that I wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Why do that to yourself? When I said that you two should meet up and talk things through, I didn’t mean dive headfirst in the fuckin’ deep end and spend a day off down memory lane!”

I groaned, slumping further into the cushions. “I know! Okay? I know. But I couldn’t help it. It just sort of… happened.”

“How the fuck does that ‘sort of happen’?” Matty shot back, knowing I didn’t have a full-proof answer to give him. I just threw an arm over my eyes instead. “And you wonder why it all went to shit.”

I peeled my arm away to send him a disheartened glare. “That’s the second time I’ve been told that today.”

“Well, there you go then! Only brought it on yourself, didn’t you? Hang on- did you even end up sorting shit out with G then?”

I couldn’t wipe away the pout that formed then, and Matty simply shook his head at me, patting my thigh.

“Come on, I’ll grab us something a bit stronger than just water to drown our sorrows in and then you can tell me what went on. Yeah?”

I nodded and tucked my knees up into my chest when Matty rolled away. I found myself staring blankly into space whilst he made his way into the kitchen, recalling all the words George had said to me during the course of the day. 

But it only made me think back to the birthday wish I'd made the night before. Wondering if I regretted it.

Part Ten>

[mugenloopdalove]

I don't think anyone thinks Theil or your story is bad. Indifference isn't the same as hate. They're no better or worse than the other thousands of tav ocs on here, but we straight up don't know enough about them to have an opinion. Dropping an entire fic about a character that nobody has been given a reason to care about isn't going to work for anyone, unless they're popular with an established following. And even big creators have flops.

One thing about Theil that I don't get from their backstory is their personality, and how they are as a person? You gave a laundry list of things that happened to them, but not really how these things affect them. Losing their parents, discovering magic powers, and living on the street must have had some effect on them, surely? Nobody gets through that upheaval without changing even a little bit. "They went through things that would straight up break another person, but they didn't really care and were fine" doesn't cut it unless you explore why they didn't care.

Have I really. Not talked about their personality at all and why they're so... Unaffected by shit.

I can't remember what I say on discord vs what I say on Tumblr these days (I also think I said some of this in my more detailed backstory post? but I can't find that one anymore since Tumblr search ate it.

Anyway

They mourned their parents somewhat, but no more than one would a teacher or an older community member. Once that feeling passed they were actually somewhat happy because they had no one telling them what to do, and actually... Managed pretty well on their own. Between their magic, sneaky hands, and cute face, there wasn't a whole lot of a struggle. They stole what they could and knew how to make a cute face and look like a helpless kid if they needed anything. There's one baker in particular that they could pretty much ALWAYS get something off of. He called them curls bc. Curly hair, curled horns. Curls. (They also didn't talk a whole lot then. Which is funny bc as an adult they can't shut the fuck up.)

Somethin also worth noting is Theil feels anything negative and lies even to themself about it. A part of them did always know a lot of their life was Fucked. They could see families pass them by. They could tell that other kids had better lives. As they got older. They felt lonely with their hookups and never having any commitment. It's why they latched onto Reya so hard.

And especially over the course of their adventure they have to Face the Facts like. Fuck. They saw a guy make a deal w a god and become an embodiment of evil for his daughter. But they kind of spent their whole life shoving any pain WAY DOWN and never let themself feel it because they just hate it and feel weak if they aren't keeping that tough exterior.

And once again this absolutely gets worse when they meet the party because. Well everyone's got their problems. I have to shoulder them. I don't have time for their problems plus my problems are so small compared to theirs (buddy u have just as many problems as the rest of them).

They would eventually break but they were really damn good and spending 31 years of their life pretending to be okay when the reality was they were just seconds from snapping at any given time.