#dead apple explanation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missaengg · 6 months ago

Text

A Bittersweet Reunion

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: nsfw, mdni, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, developing relationship, light angst Word Count: 4.9k Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on. ao3 link here.

Your eyes snap open abruptly, blinking to clear the haze blurring your vision as they adjust to the dim light, a ceiling you don’t recognize coming into view. Dazed, you sit up rapidly, a wave of dizziness overcoming you from the sudden change in elevation.

Your brain attempts to clear the fog, trying to remember how you came to be on this couch, in this room. The last thing you remember, you were on a mission, tracking down a potential lead about the Aether core not too far from Linkon City. It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission to verify the lead, but a few minutes after your arrival, you were ambushed from behind, your consciousness turning black. The next thing you know waking up in this strange location.

You reach for your holster, cursing under your breath when you find it empty.

The realization you’re unarmed slams the precariousness of your situation into you, the high alert of potential danger returning clarity back to your muddled brain. It’s only now that you notice the blanket draped over you, that your body rests on a black, leather couch. The leather feels smooth under your hands, an attestment to its high level of quality, which fits the caliber of what appears to be a penthouse living room. Though, it’s too dark to distinguish much more than the outline of the sparse furniture inside save for the brief flashes of lightning bursting through the wall-length windows.

Your eyes dart left and right as you try to regain your bearings, searching for a clue as to where you are or who might’ve attacked you.

“You’re awake.”

A deep voice cuts through the silence. Somewhere in the back of your head, you have a nagging sensation that you recognize this voice. There’s a sense of familiarity as though you’ve heard it many times before. A voice that you’ve missed ardently for the past year, but it couldn’t be. It’s impossible.

The long tail of a heavy, black coat and a pair of pristine knee-high, leather boots sweep into your vision. Your eyes follow the intruder’s form up, your heart wrenching when they settle on his face. Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on.

“You’re alive?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Caleb meets your gaze, a flicker of something akin to regret crossing his galaxy-colored purple eyes. After a momentary pause, he answers, “I am.”

He provides no explanation. No apology. He provides nothing, but silence, and it hangs heavily in the air, the only two occupants of the room frozen in place. One frozen from guilt. The other from shock.

You break the silence first, hesitantly reaching for his face, your fingers gingerly tracing the curve of his cheek. “Is it really you?”

Caleb nods, leaning into your touch and placing his hand over yours. “It’s me… I’m back.” He nuzzles your palm causing you to gasp and lay your hand flush against his face.

You can feel the warmth of his cheek on your palm, the pressure of his large hand covering yours. The warmth spreads across your hand and down your arm, proof that the Caleb before you isn’t a dream. That he’s real and alive and in front of you.

But you’ve had this dream so many times before only to wake up, your hand grasping nothing that you don’t trust what your senses are telling you. “I’m not dreaming? You’re real?”

Caleb chuckles, and you feel his facial muscles shift and his amusement vibrate on your fingers. “I’m as real as I’ll ever be, Pipsqueak.”

You close your eyes, wondering if you dare allow yourself to believe this is reality, that he won’t disappear when you open them again.

“Hey.” Caleb’s voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you feel his hand cradle your chin, tilting it towards him. “It’s really me. I’m really here.”

Holding your breath, you open your eyes one at a time, still skeptical as to whether this is just another dream, but when your vision clears, it’s filled with Caleb’s gentle smile. Tears spring to your eyes. “Caleb…” You lurch forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Caleb returns your embrace, patting your back in soothing circles, the same way he did when you were children. “I know. I missed you too.”

It’s only now with his arms around you that you can admit to yourself this isn’t a fleeting illusion, that he’s actually here in the flesh. Hugging you.

That he’s been alive for the past year and didn’t tell you.

The relief you feel shifts into a seething rage that courses through your veins like fire. You shove him away, roughly, clenching your hands into fists and slamming them into his shoulders. Once. Twice. Three times before you feel any semblance of satisfaction. “You’re alive, and you didn’t tell me?!” You hit him again, each contact of your fist with his torso echoing your frustration and grief. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Caleb simply stands there, doing nothing to block your assault as if he knows he deserves every ounce of your ire. He allows you to pummel him, over and over again until you stop of your own volition, too exhausted to continue.

“I couldn’t,” he replies when you finally settle, casting his gaze away from you to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” you snarl, disbelief raising the volume of your voice with each word you spit out. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Caleb. You let me think you were dead for a year. A year!” You punch him one more time. Hard.

“I know.”

“I mourned you for an entire year, Caleb. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice cracks as it trails off, your unshed tears adding a hoarseness to the otherwise clear timbre of your voice.

“I’m sorry…”

You slump back onto the couch, your spent fists dropping listlessly into your lap. “Where…where have you been all this time? Why couldn’t you tell me you were alive? Why couldn’t you contact me?” The questions come quickly as your fingers twist together with so much force, they turn white. “Why?”

“I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

You stare at your childhood friend who refuses to look you in the eye while rolling that stupid apple in his hands. You want to keep demanding him for answers, anything to explain himself even if they’re half-hearted lies, but seeing him alive triggers the memory of the explosion that killed him. Even a year later, you can still recall the scene so vividly. You can still feel the raging heat burning your skin. The eruptive force knocking you off your feet. The acrid smoke stinging your nose. The despair as you discovered the necklace you gifted him through your blurry vision and your ringing ears.

No one could’ve survived a blast of that magnitude. No one. But somehow Caleb survived, and if Caleb had been alive after all this time, then it’s possible he might not be the only survivor.

“Grandma,” you whisper, your eyes widening with possibility, a hope you haven’t felt in a long time blooming in your heart. “If you’re alive, does that mean…Is she…?”

“No,” Caleb answers curtly, his kind eyes turning cold. “She’s dead.”

Your face twists. A part of you knew that it was a slim possibility, but the resulting devastation is the same, slashing the delicate hope you dared feel to pieces. “How did you…survive?”

Guilt ripples below Caleb’s stony expression. His silence creates a suffocating tension that hangs palpably in the air, so long a horrible thought pops into your head. One so awful it kills you to even consider it. One you can’t even begin to entertain, let alone fathom.

“Were you– Did you–” cause the explosion? You want to ask, but the rest of your question withers away in your throat because the idea of Caleb being responsible for Grandma’s death is too horrific for you to voice out loud.

Caleb doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The pained expression he wears on his face says everything.

“No…Caleb, tell me that’s not true,” you demand, searching his face for even a hint that you’re wrong. Dead wrong. “Tell me you didn’t– Tell me I’m mistaken, that I don't know what I’m accusing you of.”

Caleb flinches at the sharp edge in your voice. “It had to be done.”

“I don’t understand.” You lean forward, desperate to know what he’s thinking, desperate to make this all make sense even if in some twisted way. “She took us in and raised us when we had nowhere else to go. How could you?”

“Pipsqueak, I…” Caleb runs a tired hand over his face, over the bags under his eyes and his haggard, sunken cheeks. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“How can you say that? Of course you had a choice,” you shout, vehemently shaking your head and bolting upright onto your knees. “How could you murder the woman who gave us a home?” You’re so incensed you almost don’t notice the way Caleb clenches his fists and grits his teeth, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he’s agitated. You need answers, answers only he can give. “Caleb, answer me.”

“Because she hurt us!” he explodes before softening. “Because…she hurt you. She had to pay for her crimes.”

“Caleb, she saved us.”

“She experimented on us.”

“And then she had a change of heart,” you argue.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s just as culpable as the other scientists,” Caleb says with a finality. “She hurt us – hurt you – and for that she had to pay.”

“No, Caleb.” You press your lips together, surveying the man barely holding himself together in front of you. A man you barely recognize anymore. “She saw what they were doing to us and broke us out. You know that.”

Caleb laughs harshly, his laughter devoid of any warmth, ringing hollow in the cold, dark room. “She didn’t.”

“What?”

“The organization decided that we’d be less stressed in a home environment so they tasked her with raising us. It was just another means to gather data for their experiments.”

“That…” That you didn’t know. Deep creases form in your brow as you process this new revelation, but deep down you know it doesn’t matter. Not anymore, now that she’s gone. “It might’ve started that way, but she never went back. She took us away and hid. She made it right.”

You startle when Caleb ruffles your hair the way he used to in the days before he “died”, a ghost of a rueful grin on his lips. He takes a seat on the black marble coffee table, looking down at the apple in his hand as he muses on old, painful memories. “You were too young to remember, but I remember everything. I remember how they kept us locked up. How they poked and prodded us. How they ignored our screams.” He levels his gaze with yours. “I remember how you’d cling to me after they were done. How you’d cry yourself to sleep in my arms. How powerless I was to stop it – stop them. I remember it all.”

A storm rages in the depths of his gaze, one so turbulent it causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Caleb…”

“But I’m not powerless anymore.” Caleb’s eyes narrow into slits. “Not anymore.”

Buried deep beneath his fury, you catch a glimpse of the scared, little boy he must’ve been back then. The same hurt, little boy who bravely protected you the best he could with no one there to comfort him. You reach for him, slowly, but your hand falters at the last moment. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Caleb I know.”

You silently plead with him to deny everything he’s just said. To say he hasn’t changed. That he’s still the same Caleb, the same childhood friend you’ve always known.

Caleb smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, but his eyes are blank. Emotionless. Dead.

“Caleb...?”

“Did you honestly think I’d always be the same kind-hearted boy from your childhood?” he asks cruelly as he lits the apple to his mouth and takes a bite, his canines glinting as they sink into the fruit. A streak of lightning hurtles through the night sky behind him, bathing him in an ominous glow.

You watch in muted horror as he chews methodically, taking his time to grind the white flesh between his teeth and swallow.

“I’m not the Caleb you knew anymore,” he says remorsefully. “I changed the moment I started my revenge.”

“...Revenge?”

“For what they did to you,” Caleb growls, slamming the apple down on the table and spraying flecks of juice over its polished surface. “The ones who experimented on us. Ever. I’m going to destroy them piece by piece from the inside out until there’s nothing left. So they can’t harm us – harm you – ever again.”

You yearn to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that you don’t need revenge. That you only wish for him to be back in your life, but the steely resolve engulfing him gives you pause because you can sense that nothing you say will change his mind. Nothing you say will stop him. “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” you ask instead.

Caleb nods.

“All by yourself?”

He nods again.

Something inside you breaks to know that he’s been on his own, alone, consumed by anger, pain, and hate. You reach for him again, but this time you cradle his head in your arms, nestling it into your shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can fight with you.”

Caleb stirs, his fingers clutching the hem of your shirt like a child clutching someone for comfort. “I want…I want to keep you in a world where it’s just the two of us. I want that more than anything,” he begins, quietly, his voice muffled by your body. “But until everything is resolved, I need to make sure you’re safe and sound. I need to know you’re out of harm’s way.”

You pull back, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “I’m not the same young girl from back then. I can handle myself. I’m a Hunter, I fight wanderers for fuck’s sake.”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth quirk upwards into a tiny, wry grin, the first genuine smile breaking through his frigid exterior. “I never said you couldn’t, Pipsqueak.”

“Then why?”

Caleb cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Despite the leather glove, the warmth of his hand somehow manages to reach you, sinking below the surface and stoking a bittersweet nostalgia. “Because…” His voice trembles. “...it would kill me if something were to happen to you.”

His eyes waver with fear, regret, and…longing. A wistful yearning that you know all too well, one you’ve suppressed time and time again. Your head tilts before you process what you’re doing, your lips seeking his if only to satisfy your desire to touch him, desire laced with your own anguish and need.

“Squeaks…” Caleb stops you before your lips meet. “Don’t… Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not,” you snap, jerking back, the realization of what you almost did and his rejection burning on your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I–”

But you’re interrupted when Caleb grazes your collarbone, the intimate nature of his touch furthering the scorching blush spreading on your face. His finger hooks under the silver chain around your neck and pulls, exposing the small apple charm and nameplate with the words “When U Come Back” inscribed in the metal from where it hides under your shirt.

His breath hitches, eyeing the necklace in his hand. “You’ve been wearing this all this time?”

Your heart twinges when you see the charms glittering on his palm, remembering all the nights you clutched it to your heart as you cried yourself to sleep. The way you felt it pressed against your sternum when you laid a hand over your chest every time you missed him, multiple times a day.

“It was the only thing I had left…of you.”

Caleb curls his fingers around the pendants, taking care not to tug the chain lest he hurts you. He closes his eyes and bites his lip, a shudder-like groan rising from deep within and ripping through his throat. “Do you know how difficult it was for me? To have to hold myself back while seeing you everyday? I know what I feel is wrong. I know you only see me as an older brother. But I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day, after day, after day. It was suffocating.” Caleb opens his eyes, staring at you imploringly. He breathes heavily as if each labored breath is a battle to restrain himself. “So don’t make this harder for me, Squeaks, cause I don’t know how much I can hold back anymore.”

You bring your hands to the sides of his face, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, your faces so close, the tips of your noses brush together. “Then don’t. Don’t hold back anymore,” you whisper. “I never thought of you as my brother, Caleb. I want this. I want you.”

Caleb draws in a sharp breath, and then his arms are circling your waist, pulling you into his lap. His lips find their way to yours, moving with an urgency that matches your own, a frantic need to consume him in his entirety.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he husks, pulling away just enough to speak, his ragged breath a wisp of heat on your lips. He sweeps his thumb tenderly along your bottom lip, a wanton heat flooding his hooded eyes.

You forget how to breathe. The lust in his eyes holds you captive, sending your stomach aflutter. “Me too,” you murmur.

A quiver runs down Caleb’s tense body, and then his lips are on yours once more, holding you tight as though you might disappear if he lets go, his large hands pressing firmly on your back as they roam. Neither of you break the kiss, not even to breathe, so consumed by the hunger to feel one another after being apart for so long, as if you couldn’t get enough of one another. Because you couldn’t. Not after a year of missing him, wishing you could hold him in your arms, dreaming of his touch.

Caleb’s breath mingles with yours, his tongue darting to the slight part between your lips, demanding entrance. You accede, and his tongue slips in, entwining with your own. You can taste the remnants of the apple he ate just moments before lingering on his tongue adding a sweetness to the dizzying onslaught of passionate kisses you share.

All your senses are filled with Caleb. Moaning, your fingers dig into the stiff fabric of his coat along his broad back, reeling from the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his embrace, the tickle of his teeth nibbling your lip, his heady pants puffing in your ear. But it’s not enough, not even close to being enough.

You want more.

His lips relinquish their hold and travel down the curve of your neck, a trail of fleeting, feathery kisses left behind in their descent. Waves of pleasure radiate from each epicenter, tingling down your spine and pooling into an unsatiated arousal.

A surprised gasp darts out from between your swollen lips when his teeth graze over where your heartbeat pulses as your hips twitch, your body now painfully aware of just how even the simplest of his touch is driving you to the brink of insanity. How even the most gentle of his caresses are igniting a fire you can’t extinguish on your own. “I want…I want to feel you.”

Caleb growls, a guttural sound filled with his desire, evidence of his crumbling resolve. Reluctantly, he pulls away from your neck, fumbling in his haste to remove his crisp, yet cumbersome officer’s coat. He discards the heavy fabric to the push carpet, and once he’s free, you waste no time reaching for the buttons of his shirt, slipping each confining circle through their tethers as fast as your fingers can allow. His bare torso comes into view, bit by bit, each reveal quickening your pulse until your heart hammers in your chest.

Caleb loosens his tie, but before he can finish pulling it off over his head, your mouth is on him, tracing every rise and crevice of his muscles with your tongue, with your lips, and with your teeth.

“Shit, Pipsqueak,” he rasps, somehow managing to toss his tie aside while your mouth distracts him.

A strained ache pulses beneath the surface that fuels your desire, emboldening you to leave a dark, red bruise wherever your mouth lands.

“Squeaks, slow down,” Caleb hisses, pushing you back gently, but you cling to him, steadfast, refusing to quit your torment.

“No,” you mumble against his flushed skin, continuing your ravagement much to his detriment. “I just got you back…I want…I want you…”

Caleb mutters a near inaudible ‘fuck’, and then springs into action, hauling you to your feet. Soon, the two of you are a tangle of limbs and fabric in an attempt to separate flesh from cloth. Tugging your shirt over your head. Yanking his shirt over his shoulders. Unclasping bras. Unbuttoning pants. Unbuckling belts. One by one, they too join the discarded clothing on the floor, cast aside without a second thought.

Your lips locked together, Caleb falls back on the couch, and you fall with him, your legs tucked, straddling his thighs. A hand on your lower back, his other slides to your breast, kneading the soft flesh and thumbing your pert nipple intent on eliciting a sweet little moan.

You give him what he wants. You moan, a throaty, sultry, breathless moan.

Caleb buries his face in between your naked breasts, planting reverent kiss after kiss along the swell. He catches a nipple between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and rolling it in his mouth.

Your fingers twist into his hair, your body humming from delight. A particularly naughty nip drives you to gasp his name and arch your back, your throbbing sex grinding down into his pelvis and dragging along the length of his clothed erection, the thin fabric of his briefs one of the last two barriers separating you from him.

“Caleb,” you whimper, a wordless plea begging him to make you his, to claim you as his own.

Caleb presses one last kiss to the divet between your breasts. “I won’t be able to stop myself if we continue,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. Do you still want this? Want me? His unspoken question quivers in his probing gaze.

“Caleb, I want you.” Holding his gaze, you sit up on your knees and hook your thumbs over the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your thighs, over your knees, and off your ankles. You toss the thin item of clothing aside. Your answer to his question. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Please.”

Caleb releases a long, drawn-out groan, what little resolve he has left crumbling. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing the side of your face as he commits every detail of you to his memory. “God, you’re beautiful.”

He kisses you again, sweetly, tenderly. His hand glides down the side of your body, grazing the plush of your thigh with the pads of his fingers, coming between your legs and running through your folds. As he does, he violently twitches, feeling how ready you are for him, how your slick arousal coats his fingers.

A shaky whimper escapes you when Caleb finds his way to your clit, stroking the sensitive bud in sloppy circles. Shockwaves of pleasure rip through your lower abdomen, leaving you squirming, mewling, whispering his name and biting back moans.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Caleb murmurs into your ear. “The way you sing for me.”

His voice reverberates in your ear, husky and low, a spine-tingling thrill throbbing in your sex, your need for him growing too painful for you to ignore. Dizzy with desire, you reach for his briefs, intent on removing the last obstacle keeping you from him. “I want to feel you…feel you inside me.”

Caleb curses, lifting his hips so you can pull his underwear down past his hips and his thighs, kicking it off once you reach his knees. He grasps the sides of your hips, simultaneously guiding you down onto him as he thrusts up to enter you. You sink down his length, gasping as your warmth encases him and his cock drags on your walls.

“Caleb,” you cry out, reeling from how he’s stretching you with his girth. You feel yourself clench around him, hearing Caleb grunt as your walls flutter to accommodate his size.

“Shit, you feel…feel so good.” Caleb rakes his teeth over the crest of your shoulder, his chest heaving in and out, his passion getting the best of him. “Fuck.”

Tightening his grip, he rocks you against him, his movements controlled, slow. Your lips meet, stealing the breath out of each other’s mouths, coming together and parting, building into a heady whirlwind. As your kisses grow more fervent, so too do Caleb’s thrusts. Your hands fall forwards, bracing themselves on the back of the couch. Your legs hinge at the knees, rising and sinking onto Caleb to match his urgent rhythm.

This – Caleb’s body joined with yours, his fingertips digging into your skin, his lips claiming yours – is everything you’d ever wanted, better than everything you’d ever dreamed.

Better than all the times you spent touching yourself imagining him inside you, claiming all the intimate parts of yourself you wanted to save for him. Better than dreaming of how it’d feel to be in his arms, kissing him, being kissed by him. How he’d whisper your name and stroke your hair. How he’d hold you tight and never let you go.

Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back, the unmistakable tightening of the coil pulling your muscles taut. Caleb plants his lips on the side of your neck, sucking down, collecting the taste of your skin on his tongue. He bucks into you at a relentless pace, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. You can barely keep up with how fast he’s going, how quickly he has you riding his lap.

“Caleb,” you mewl, your eyes closed, your mouth parted. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb…” You ardently whisper his name over and over again.

“Say my name,” Caleb mumbles. “Say it again.”

“Caleb…” you whimper.

The coil is tense with pressure, on the cusp of snapping free.

“Tell me you love me,” Caleb pleads, his breath wisping on your skin.

“I love you.” You brush your lips on his brow. “I love you.” On the pink glow dusting his cheeks. “I love you.” On the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

Caleb tilts his head up seeking you, and you rest your forehead on his, your lips mere inches away from one another, your breaths mixing together, drinking each other in.

Caleb’s hips snap into you, hard, and then you feel it, the coil springing free, releasing all the pent up tension it was holding. All the words you’ve wanted to say to one another over the years. All the repressed emotions. All the happy memories and the shared joy. All the grief and anguish and pain. All of it culminating into a burst of ecstasy roiling through your quaking body.

You passionately cry out his name, tremors coursing up and down your body. Caleb continues rolling your hips together with his, your rapture pushing him further over the brink, but when your walls pulsate around his length, he catapults over the edge, slamming you down onto his lap as he floods you with his own euphoric bliss.

Foreheads pressed together, Caleb whispers “I love you” before closing the distance between your lips, savoring how you taste, how you feel. He gently shifts your bodies, still joined together as one, until you’re both lying on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

You snuggle into his firm chest, relishing how perfectly your bodies seem to fit together, how your head seems to tuck effortlessly under his chin. Your eyes flutter closed. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat in your ears lulls you into a state of drowsiness.

You feel safe. At home. Protected. Cherished. Loved.

As the hazy tendrils of sleep tug on your consciousness, it faintly occurs to you that you didn’t ask him how you came to be here in this penthouse suite with him. But you push the thought from your mind. Right now, you’re just happy to have him back. Right now, you want nothing more than to stay in his arms.

Tomorrow. You can ask him tomorrow.

But for now, all you want is to hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

For now, all you need is him.

The answers can come tomorrow.

Taglist: @william-rex

#missaengg writes #caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lnds smut #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

274 notes · View notes

mhizzberry · 4 months ago

Text

As promised in my previous post about this, I finally made Pokemon Teams for all the LaDS guys (so far)! The first Pokemon is their Ace, and the last one is an assigned Legendary/Mythical!

Short explanations for why I picked these 'mons for them under the cut!

⭐Xavier's Team⭐

Clefable - Fits his star theme. Also has themes of protection

Absol - Fits him appearance-wise (it looks like his Hunter Uniform). Absol is also a Pokemon that warns people of calamity, so it's a reference to the Chronorift Catastrophe and Lumiere first appearing

Komala - Sleepy and fluffy (hair), like Xavier :3

Minior - Meteor shower reference from his Anecdote

Sirfetch'd - Connected to how Xavier is a swordfighter

Jirachi - Wishing star reference

❄️Zayne's Team❄️

Ninetails - A reference to Pie, the Artic Fox. I can also imagine him with a Ninetails clearly.

Audino - They're often associated with nurses, so I thought it fits him as a doctor. Also, their ears act as a stethoscope, so it's also related to him as a cardiac surgeon specifically

Meowstic - Fits him vibes-wise. Also it looks like him.

Klefki - Fits his personality as a very organized, logical person

Amaura - A fossil that's also an ice mountain reference

Chien Pao - Reference to his Myth(s)

🌊Rafayel's Team🌊

Primarina - Quite obvious: it's a reference to him being a Lemurian/mermaid!!

Volcarona - Connected to his Fire Evol; also connected to themes of worship

Smeargle - Fits him as an artist

Sandygast - ...it has the spirits of dead Lemurians :)

Mareanie - Fits his Abysswalker vibe

Manaphy - Prince of the Sea reference

🐦‍⬛Sylus' Team🐦‍⬛

Corviknight - It's literally Mephisto (a bird made of steel)

Hakamo-o - A dragon type to match his dragon theme; also this Pokemon mainly punches to attack so it matches how Sylus fights.

Sableye - Its connection to gems is a reference to Protocores. It's also a reference to PMD EOS where the Sableye are minions of the antagonist (so essentially, they represent the Twins lol)

Meowth - Represents his wealth. Also a reference to how he calls MC "kitten". But also, Meowth is a "classic" villain/antagonist Pokemon (i.e. Giovanni and Team Rocket)

Hitmonchan - Boxing reference!

Giratina - BIG SCARY DRAGON

🍎Caleb's Team🍎

Metagross - Fits him appearance-wise (and honestly vibes-wise); it also looks like a battleship

Flapple - Obligatory apple reference

Rotom Fan - I wanted to give Caleb a "techy" Pokemon to reference his lore, so that's Rotom. I also picked Fan because it knows Levitate + it's a Flying type, so it's a reference to his Gravity Evol

Gallade - Big brother vibes

Lucario - Also big brother vibes, but also it's a doggy and I think most of the community agrees that he gives "dog energy"

Latios - Its concept is based on jetplane, and Caleb is a pilot :)

#different template cos the site where i made the previous ones went down..... sad........#Love and DeepSpace #Pokemon #LaDS #LaDS Xavier #LaDS Zayne #LaDS Rafayel #LaDS Sylus #LaDS Caleb

264 notes · View notes

signanothername · 11 months ago

Note

Can we have a more in depth look into how you think Dream and Nightmare experience autism and how it affects them?

YESSSSS LETS GOOOOO!!!!

Ok before we start this ramble, I’d like to emphasize how important the time period Dream and Nightmare grew up in, it was a time period in which anything mental health related was immediately connected with “demons” and “possession”

I like to say that the twins are masked Autistics a lot, but in truth, I like to think they both started off without masking their Autism at all, they never saw anything wrong with the way they behaved (cause there indeed wasn’t anything wrong), they were comfortable with who they were and how they behaved, it was their normal in a world that saw it as abnormal, but it was when the villagers started getting in the picture that problems started

Nightmare experiences his Autism through his special interest in learning new things and reading books, hyper empathy, isolation, avoiding eye contact, semi-repulsion to touch if he wasn’t the one to initiate it, understimulation, extreme difficulty in understanding his own emotions (and by extension, difficulty in expressing them), generally being blunt, brutally honest and direct, and selective mutism, Nightmare mostly stims by repeating certain sounds or phrases and humming

Dream experiences his Autism through his special interest in nature (especially flowers), precious stones as well as sewing, difficulty understanding social cues, selective mutism, extreme sensitivity to bright lights (he has a love/hate relationship with the sun) and loud noises, overstimulation, low empathy, and learning difficulties especially when it comes to language, Dream tends to stim by flapping his hands or stomping his feet

Both the twins perfer to follow a routine, however, Nightmare tends to plan his days carefully, and finds any change in his routine extremely distressing to the point it can cause him to experience a meltdown if he couldn’t think of a quick solution

Dream finds a change in his routine distressing too, but his reaction is a bit milder, he tends to get anxious and starts stimming to calm himself down all while he works on a way to get his routine back on track

Speaking of meltdowns, whenever the twins are extremely distressed, Nightmare is more likely to experience a shutdown while Dream is more likely to experience a meltdown, that doesn’t mean the opposite can’t happen sometimes, but it really depends on the situation

Then the villagers came and abused Nightmare into masking his Autism, using his Autistic traits as an excuse to demonize him, made comments about how he must be “possessed”, meanwhile they abused Dream into masking by making sweet tainted mean spirited comments about any behavior he exhibited that felt “abnormal” to them, they’d say things like “honey, it’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them” or how he should “use his words” when Dream felt like he couldn’t

Both Nightmare and Dream internalized such comments deeply, and started subconsciously masking their Autism, they were children at the time after all, and especially after the apple incident, Nightmare truly believed he might be a demon or at least possessed by one for centuries after, cause for so long Nightmare couldn’t find a logical explanation in his beloved books for why he behaves the way he does

The word “Autism” never even existed back then, Nightmare spent years of his life researching for any logical explanation only to hit a dead end each time, and now that he’s out in the multiverse seeing how many people don’t really exhibit the same behavior he and his twin do, he was trying desperately to reassure himself that he can’t truly be a “demon” considering Dream exhibits the same “abnormal” behaviors (it rarely made him feel better about himself), even as an adult, the thought of being a “demon” distresses Nightmare so much that he sometimes experiences a meltdown cause of it

Nightmare eventually gives up trying to understand himself and instead starts consciously masking his Autism, he starts forcing himself to look people in the eye when he speaks or spoken to, he stops himself from stimming, he forces himself to speak when he’s overwhelmed, he starts hiding his love for his special interest (he has an entire big library of books yet he’d force himself not to spend most of his time there), he stops isolating himself and forces himself not to avert from anyone touching him, all to appear “normal”, all while it’s physically painful and emotionally draining to him

Same thing with Dream, except Dream never consciously masks, it’s all subconsciously, he forces himself to make eye contact, he stops stimming when people are around, he forces himself to act “normal” when he’s overstimulated, he forces himself to speak even when he feels like he can’t, he hides his special interest and puts on a mask of empathy even when he can’t truly understand/ tune in with the pain or feelings others experience but rather only able to understand their pain in a logical manner (and it makes him feel so damn guilty, cause Dream loves to help people, he thinks that he should be able to feel sad when others do), he pretends to understand social cues when in reality he only mimics how others act in social situations, he blames his learning difficulties on “time constraints” and how he simply doesn’t have the time to sit down and learn

Sometimes both the twins’ masks slip away when they’re extremely overwhelmed, other times, they let their masks slip when they’re alone, and it only adds to their stress cause they feel a sort of fucked up guilt and shame over not acting in a “normal” way, other times it’s a guilty pleasure, they almost reached a point in which they think their Autistic traits are some sort of privilege, punishing themselves if they mess up by not giving themselves the relief of letting the mask slip when alone (like forcing themselves not to stim)

The fucked up truth is, their masks also really impairs them socially, cause sometimes they get anxious thinking about being normal, that it might distract them or cause them to lose track of things

And even when the centuries passed by and science developed and changed and the idea of demonic possession became outdated and mental health became more prominent, and the word “Autism” came to be, neither twins really know they have Autism, neither of them even know what Autism is, Dream doesn’t have the resources to understand what it is, and Nightmare gave up trying to understand himself a long time ago to realize he’s not demonic for it

Will they eventually know about it, understand themselves better and get the support they deserve? It’ll probably take as many years to undo the damage done but I like to believe they do

A kinda part 2

#anothers ask #dream sans #nightmare sans #internalized ableism #ableism #ableism cw #ableism tw

380 notes · View notes

arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years ago

Text

Marry Me

Summary: Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying your girlfriend of two years but she broke up with you before you had the chance to ask her for her hand. Now with a wedding invitation in your hand, she's getting married but she's not marrying you.

Pairings: Past!Wanda Maximoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst with a happy ending, modern AU, no powers/Avengers, Starks aren't dead and decent parents lol

Word Count: 4.4k

‘Together with their families Wanda and Vision invite you to their wedding,’ the world around you seemed to become white noise. You didn’t hear your roommate talk about some guy that stood her up or the weatherman talking about the weather. Nothing else seemed to matter. “Are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t. That’s what you wanted to say but you stayed frozen, unable to speak. Sarah snatched the invitation out of your hand. You didn’t bother to stop her. “No fucking way this bitch invited you to her wedding,” Sarah had strong feelings about the ending of your relationship with Wanda. She had every right to be upset as she was the one to mend the broken pieces. “Are you going?”

“Fuck Sarah I don’t know,” you glanced at the time on the stove. “And I do not have time for this.” You were supposed to have a quick lunch at home and then return to the office for a meeting with important investors. Being blindsided by an invite to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was something you didn’t have time for. “I have to go. Just leave it on the fridge,” you grabbed your backpack. Lunch was a protein bar and a banana.

“Hey, dumbass,” you stopped at the door, turning to face your roommate. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Love you too, dumbass.” You walked out of your apartment, not bothering with the elevator. It was a beautiful sunny day, a stark contrast to the emotions that were swirling inside of you. Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying Wanda. You were together for 2 years and knew every detail of how she wanted the wedding to be. It would be out in the country, not too many people to save on money. Maybe on an apple orchard or magnolia trees surrounding the ceremony. You would have given her everything, no matter the cost, and you were looking at rings to buy. Then she broke up with you. It was rather sudden, out of the blue, and she never gave you a good enough explanation. She told you that she fell out of love with you. A month later, she and Vision started dating. Sarah figured she was cheating on you. You couldn’t stomach that possibility.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony said as the elevator’s door opened to his office. You rolled your eyes and sat down in the empty chair in front of his desk. You gave Pepper a small smile.

“I’m technically early,” you opened the protein bar. “I got distracted at home.” Tony sent a questioning look to his wife.

“Do you want-?”

“No,” you cut him off. “Let’s begin.” You got out your tablet and the meeting began without a second thought. You were the Chief Entrepreneur of Stark Industries. Your parents were close friends with the Starks and you and Tony grew up together. He was the brother you never had. So when Howard stepped down as Executive Chairman, Tony took over and promoted Pepper to CEO and you to Chief Entrepreneur. You were responsible for managing a portfolio of entrepreneurs. Your team was the future of Stark Industries, taking on risks and coming up with new products while Pepper ran the company. You didn’t envy her job and you loved working here. It was the best part of your day. However, it got uncomfortable and awkward when you had to deal with the CFO, who happened to be Vision and Tony’s brother.

They weren’t related by blood but you knew that made no difference, you were close with Natasha and Yelena. Howard and Maria adopted Vision when you and Tony were in high school. He was two years younger than you. You remembered the day when Vision and Wanda announced their relationship so clearly. Tony dragged you into his office and asked if you wanted him to fire Vision and kick his ass. You told him that it wasn’t necessary. You were professional and respectful with the man. It was rare that your paths crossed. You only had to be in the same room as him during company-wide meetings or meetings with investors. Of course, you had one today. The universe was testing you.

Once Tony concluded the meeting, you and Pepper left his office. It was rare that he came to these types of meetings as he trusted you and Pepper to make the right calls regarding the company. You both stopped to make a quick coffee. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Are you helping Wanda with her wedding?”

“She’s asked me for some advice here and there,” she looked at you curiously. “Why?”

“Do you know why she invited me then?” In hindsight, you probably should have waited for the CEO to not be taking a sip of her coffee before dropping the news. She coughed, choking on the hot liquid. You bite your lip, trying to get your laughter under control, and rubbed her back to help her calm down. “Sorry.” You giggled. She waved you off and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“It’s fine,” she cleared her throat. “She invited you to her wedding.” You nodded as you continued on your way to the board room.

“I got the invitation today,” you said. “It was why I was late, kind of took me by surprise.” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Shit, I don’t blame you,” you giggled. You loved Pepper. She was a perfect fit for Tony. She was the only one that could reel in your brother’s energy. “Are you going to go?” You didn’t answer. “Tony is Vision’s best man and I know Wanda asked Natasha to be her maid of honor.” You weren’t surprised by that. Natasha was the reason Wanda was part of your workgroup and how you met her. The redhead held onto a lot of guilt because of what happened. You didn’t blame her.

“Not sure, Pep. We will see,” you saw Yelena and Natasha waiting for you and you quickened your pace. Natasha was the Chief of Staff and the first person you hired when you got promoted. She helped you manage executive goals and you trusted her to oversee projects you didn’t have time for. You worried when your relationship ended with Wanda your friendship would the redhead was going to be jeopardized. It wasn’t and a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Are you ready?” You asked Yelena when you got closer. The blonde was the reason you were having the meeting. She was a new hire but there was no limit to the ideas she had. Her latest project would partner Stark Industries with Wakandans International to develop a better prosthetic.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” her Russian accent took you by surprise when you first met her as Natasha introduced her as her sister. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Don’t be nervous,” she gave you a pointed look. “Come here,” you dragged her away from her sister and Pepper to a more private area. “You are going to kill it today. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because you have a passionate for this project on a level I’ve never seen before,” she began to smile. “And you have the support of everyone at this company, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Just go in there and speak with the same passion you had when you explained it to me and you’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you having some much faith in me,” you put your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

“No need to thank me,” you brought her back over to her sister with her hand still on her shoulder. You didn’t miss the questioning look the redhead sent you and you removed your hand quickly. “Shall we?” You opened the door for your group and everyone found their seats to wait for the others.

The meeting went…okay. You introduced everyone to Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. You’ve spoken to the trip on the phone but it was nice to meet them in person. Yelena began to present her research and the importance of the partnership but Vision questioned every little thing to an annoying degree. You understood it was his job to understand how this would affect the company financially however it was starting to piss you off. Even Yelena knew he was getting on your nerves as you tirelessly defended everyone in your group. The glares he was sending your way weren’t helping. Was there trouble in paradise?

In the end, the deal was signed and work with the Wakandans could being. Plus, you didn’t murder your ex’s fiance so it was a win-win in your book.

You loved when a new deal was signed. It meant an influx of projects for your team to work on and more people to help. But the first day was meant with paperwork, scheduling, and delegating responsibilities. And meetings. So many meetings. You were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a beer. You were putting on your headphones as you exited the elevator and headed for the door but a voice calling out your name caused you to stop. It was a voice you knew so well. “Wanda,” you said as your ex-girlfriend approached you. She looked good, wearing a long dress that touched the ground. Her hands were resting in front of her and she was playing with the rings that were on her fingers. A tale sign of her anxiety. “What are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Waiting for Vision,” Right. Of course, she was. That was a stupid question. “He said you and Yelena closed on a big deal.”

“We did,” you said. “Yelena did a majority of the work. I just guided her in the right direction.” You saw a strange emotion flash across her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came so you couldn’t place it.

“Well congratulations,” you smiled as your thanks. An awkward beat of silence passed between you two. God, you didn’t know how to get out of this conversation. “Did you get your invitation?”

“Uh yes, I did,” Great. This is exactly where you didn’t want this conversation to go. “It was beautifully designed.” It wasn’t a total lie, you just had no memory of what it looked as you stared at the tagline - ‘Wanda and Vision invite you.’ Wanda and Vision. She wanted to get married but she wasn’t marrying you.

“Do you think-” your name being called out cut her off and you turned towards the sound. It was Yelena. You didn’t realize the blonde was still at the office and you never been more excited to see her.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.” She said as she got closer. “Oh hi, Wanda.” The blonde plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Hi Yelena,” the smile on Wanda’s face was strained. Yelena looked at you.

“Ready to go get drinks?” Drinks? Her green eyes said a lot more than her simple statement. She was giving you an out. You made a mental note to increase her yearly bonus.

“I am,” you smiled at your ex. “It was good seeing you, Wanda. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” she said. “Congratulations, again. You both deserve to celebrate.” Yelena linked her arm with yours.

“Bye Wands,” the blonde dragged you to the door. When you both stepped outside and you were out of sight, Yelena dropped her arm. “Boy, you could feel the tension in the lobby.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you for the save,” you said. “I owe you one.” She shrugged.

“Don’t mention it. I do it a lot for Kate and America when we go out. It’s second nature,” she started to smile. Oh, that smile was trouble. “Buuuut, if you want to make it up to me I know of a bar that is close by. We do have something to celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand on your chin pretending to think. “I don’t think we have anything to celebrate,” you teased. “And I am pretty tired.” You faked a yawn.

“Suka (bitch),” you pushed on your shoulder. You gasped.

“That is assault,” you said. “I’m calling HR.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Are we going or not?”

“Lead the way, printsessa (princess),” you bowed. She laughed, throwing her head back at your pathetic attempt at Russian. You liked the sound of it.

“I still can’t believe you are going to this stupid wedding,” Sarah said through Face time. You sighed as you put your tie underneath the collar of your shirt. “And you didn’t even bring me.”

“I didn’t have a plus one,” that was 100% on purpose. The last thing Wanda would have wanted was for your best friend that wasn’t her number 1 fan to come to her wedding. “What else was I supposed to do? Tony closed the office because everyone was invited and you are visiting family.” You weren’t going to sit at home and be depressed. At least some of your friends were going to be there, but most importantly Yelena. “You put your jacket on. “How do I look?” You were in an all-gray suit with a white shirt. The only pop of color came from your tie.

“Hot,” Sarah said. “Damn if I were into chicks I’d grab you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sighed, looking down at the watch Howard gave you for your 18th birthday. “I better get going. I’ll text you after the ceremony.”

“Good luck!” You ended the call. You were going to need more than you, what you needed was at least 5 shots.

The ceremony was in an apple orchard. It appeared the happy couple rented out the inn and the orchard for a private wedding. You were handed confetti as you approached the rows of seats. There were small groups of people, all of them you knew, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You saw Pepper, who sent you a small wave. You waved back and sat in the back row at the end of the row. Thankfully, no one came up to you to talk because you weren’t in the talking mood. Instead, you played with the watch on your wrist. “Well,” you looked towards the voice and saw Howard Stark. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Mr. Stark,” you stood up, holding out your hand for him to shake. The man rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

“Please. I changed your diapers when you were a kid,” you felt your body heat up in embarrassment. “Drop the act, kid, it makes me feel old,” you smiled and sat down, leaving the end seat for him. “How are you? You don’t come by the house anymore.” That was true. You didn’t want to run into Wanda or Vision by chance.

“I’ve been busy,” you told him. “Your son is running me ragged.” It was the furthest thing from the truth but it pulled a laugh out of the older man.

“It was the best decision that boy has ever made promoting you and Pepper,” you smiled. “But how are you?” He asked again. “How is this?” He placed a gentle hand on your heart. You sighed, looking at the ceremony. This was going to be you, marrying Wanda but she picked someone else.

“Tired, Howard, if I’m being honest. I feel a little lost,” he nodded. You knew the man would never judge you. He’s seen you at your lowest point when you found out your parents were killed in a car accident. You were in a meeting with him and Tony when Maria came in to tell you. Losing them broke you but the Starks were there to catch you. It was why it hurt so much that it was Vision who started dating Wanda.

“I always told my boys to go after what they wanted, I never expected that advice to hurt someone I considered a daughter,” your breath hitched. You always so him as a father-like figured but hearing him call you his daughter brought tears to your eyes. You looked at the archway. You didn’t blame him. “But,” he grabbed onto your shoulder. “You will have your love story that will arrival that of your parents and I can’t wait to see it,” you fought the tears that threatened to fall. “You will always be a Stark, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Now I must be going but we will drink at the bar,” he stood up fixing his tie. “I believe I’m paying for it so drinks are on me.” You laughed, whipping away a tear.

“Thank you, Howard,” he gave you a salute and got ready for the ceremony. Folding your hands you sat back and watched as the seats began to fill. Soft music began to play and you were going to need a drink after this.

You took a glance at the seating chart. Table 3 with Natasha, Bucky, and Yelena. You were grateful she did that for you. Did you look like an alcoholic as you were the first one to the bar? Probably but you didn’t care. Besides you knew everyone at this wedding and it wasn’t like you were here to impress anyone. You ordered a strawberry mojito and waited for your drink as the rest of the guests filed in. “You know,” you turned to face Yelena as she walked over to you. She was wearing a light green full-length dress. It had a deep v-neck and a slit that went up to her thigh. Her blonde hair was braided. “I did not believe my sister when she said you’d RSVP but here you are.” She ordered herself a long island.

“Yelena,” you said. “You look gorgeous.” The compliment flowed so easily off your lips. You liked the blush that crept up on her cheeks.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she fixed the collar of your shirt. “How did you enjoy the ceremony?” She got her drink from the bartender.

“I’m glad to be drinking,” you said, holding out your arm. She took it and you walked her over to your table. The blonde laughed.

“Well, it’s an open bar. So let’s drink till our heart’s content.”

The reception was fun. The first dance was beautiful and speeches made by Tony and Pietro made you laugh. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t paying attention. You found yourself watching Yelena. You weren’t sure when your feelings shifted for the blonde. Since the partnership with the Wakandans, you and she spent late nights at the office. Those nights were filled with laughter, stories, and dreams shared, and stressing over upcoming deadlines. For the first time since your breakup with Wanda, you felt free. Even Tony said something about your mode change.

Natasha sat down next to you with another drink. “I love that you’ve moved on from Wanda,” she handed you the drink. “But can you stop undressing my sister in front of me?” You jumped, startled by the accusation.

“Nat, shit, I’m sorry,” her laughter cut your nervous rambling off. “That’s not funny,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. It was a lot stronger than your other ones. You wondered if she made it herself.

“I think it’s hilarious,” she leaned back in her chair. “So are you going to ask her out or just stare at her all night?” You groaned, rubbing your hands across your face.

“I don’t know,” your eyes immediately went back to the blonde. She was standing with Kate and Carol. The brunette must have said something funny because she laughed. God, she was beautiful. She must have felt eyes on her because she looked around until her green eyes found you. She waved and you waved back.

“Look, I’m going to intervene because I love you both. She likes you so make a move,” you looked at the redhead, trying to find any sense that she was messing with you. But you found none.

“Are you sure okay with this?” You questioned. “Because if you aren’t I will ignore my feelings for her,” Natasha put her hand on your shoulder.

“She will treat you better than Wanda,” she squeezed. “And if she does anything to hurt you. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” You covered your mouth as you laughed to now draw attention to you. “Go be happy.” You stood up, grabbing your drink.

“Thank you,” you began to walk over to the blonde. You were nervous. If she was going to allow you to date her, it would be different than dating Wanda. You worked with her, you were technically her superior. If it ended as badly, it could affect the work dynamic. But you couldn’t think like that. You had to take it one step at a time.

“Hi,” Wanda stepped in front of you. She changed out of her wedding dress and into a shorter one. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night.”

“Must be hard being the woman of the hour,” you took a sip of your drink and locked eyes with Yelena over Wanda’s shoulder. You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda chuckled, sipping on her drink. It wasn’t her normal cocktail, which was strange unless being with Vision changed her that much.

“Do you have a minute to talk?” You didn’t but you nodded. She led you to a balcony, and your surprise there was no one out there. She leaned her back against the metal railing. Her hands were on her stomach, playing with the wedding ring. It hit you. The drink wasn’t alcoholic, her hands on her stomach. You took a sip of your drink.

“Your pregnant,” you said. She almost dropped her glass.

“How did-” she cut herself off with a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You moved to stand next to her. “It was impossible to keep things from you.” ‘I guess you found a way,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue.

“How long?”

“2 months,” That was why they got together so quickly. That was why the engagement came out of nowhere. She cheated on you. Your stomach dropped. “Y/n-” she went to touch your arm but you jerked away from her.

“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t try to justify your cheating on me.” Oh, Sarah was going to have a field day with this. You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you happy?” It took a moment for her to reply.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Then go be happy with Vision and I’ll be happy with someone else. Have a nice life.” You turned to leave.

“With Yelena,” you didn’t like how she said her name. A hint of dislike and jealousy. When you faced her she was already looking at you. That same look was in her eyes that night in the lobby. She was jealous and possessive. Oh, it was comical.

“Don’t say her name like that,” you said, closing the gap between you and your ex. “Do you want to know the difference between me and you? You moved on while we were still together and didn’t have the guts to call it off because you slept with someone else. You have no right to be jealous over something you have no claim to. See around Wanda,” You waved over your shoulder as you walked back into the party. Drowning the rest of your drink, you saw that Yelena was still talking to Kate but America joined them. You through your cup away and walked over to the trio. You placed your hand on Yelena’s back as you approached them. The blonde looked at you, smiling. “Mind if I burrow her?” Kate and America smirked at each other.

“She’s all yours,” you thank them and moved your hand into hers, leading her out of the party. She squeezed your hand every few seconds, singling she was still with you. Finally, you stepped outside.

“I was going to give you 5 more minutes with her before I went and saved you,” you smiled, bringing her closer to you. She set her drink on the table. God, she was gorgeous. The lights danced in her green eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked the urge was becoming too strong to ignore.

“Please,” she whispered. You connected your lips with hers without a moment’s hesitation. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to her. You felt her smile against your lips. Soon you pulled away but you kept her close, feeling her breath against your lips and her heartbeat racing. “I’m sorry about Wanda.” The mention of your ex snapped you out of your haze.

“Did you know?” She looked away, glancing at the reception through the window. But you gently placed a finger underneath her chin to look at you.

“I did but I’m not even sure if Natasha and Tony know and I thought she told you,” she was working herself into a panic attack. You brushed your nose against hers and captured her lips in a quick kiss. She calmed down. “I caught them at the office. It was late like so fucking late,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what the hell I stumbled on. I think you were with Tony on a business trip to Japan,” you remembered that trip. You didn’t want to go as you and Wanda were planning on going to visit her family. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or her being so close, you weren’t sure why she was apologizing. But that brain power was for the future, sober you to figure out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” that much you knew. You didn’t blame her. “We’re okay.” She let out a sigh. “Do you want to get out of here?” A playful smirk formed on her lips.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”

Wanda stood in her kitchen, listening to her twins playing with their toys with the TV on with the latest episode of Bluey, as she flipped through the mail. A majority of it was junk mail; magazines she didn’t remember signing up for or ads trying to get her to buy something. Her fingers stopped on an envelope addressed to her and Vision written in beautiful writing. She ripped it open and stared at the invitation, ‘You are invited to the wedding of Yelena and Y/n, with a reception to follow.’

Part 2

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x female!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x vision #yelena belova imagine #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel au

2K notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 2 months ago

Text

Chuuatsu Post Dead Apple

Chuuya feels like shit.

There’s a deep ache in his bones, his legs feel like jelly and he could use a month long nap. And yet he drags himself to his feet to where he knows Atsushi is.

Dazai wouldn’t have lied, not about this at least. But that doesn’t change the fact that Chuuya needs to see that Atsushi is okay with his own two eyes.

Preferably before that nap.

Somehow Atsushi manages to make exhaustion and looking like he’s been dragged through a hedge look hot.

He instantly finds his way over to Chuuya, gently looping an arm over his and helping him to a nearby bench.

Like the gentlemen that he is.

Chuuya shakes his head at his antics but his smile is soft. He lets his head rest against Atsushi’s chest as he settles down beside him.

“I fought a fucking dragon” is certainly one way to break the ice but Chuuya was never one to beat around the bush.

He begins his explanation because though he would rather Atsushi’s story. Chuuya knows his lover, knows he needs that moment to sort through his thoughts and feelings.

And he wouldn’t be content until he knew Chuuya was safe either.

Atsushi hangs on his words and chuckles softly “sounds like quite the day.” Chuuya snorts “you can say that again.” He doesn’t ask, he simply lets the quiet wash over them.

Until Atsushi quietly says “I killed someone.” He takes a deep breath and somewhere between a laugh and a sigh he adds “and I did it twice.”

Guilt.

So much guilt it could fill a river in those words. Chuuya hums and takes his hands in his without changing his expression.

“Sounds like quite the day.”

And why Atsushi would ever take comfort in a Port Mafia member being okay with him killing someone was beyond Chuuya. But he relished in being able to comfort him nether the less.

“I killed him…6 years ago” confesses Atsushi quietly with eyes glassy with tears that he refuses to shed. “Because he was going to kill me and today I killed him again.”

And sure Chuuya doesn’t know what he means but wraps an arm around him regardless. “It’s okay, it’s okay to be happy about that. It’s okay to be scared of it too.”

He turns to face Atsushi.

“But whatever you do don’t regret it, not if it meant saving yourself.”

Atsushi stares at him before nodding slowly. It doesn’t fix everything but it does help him feel better and that’s all Chuuya could ask for right now.

Well almost everything.

“I’m gonna sleep for a month” he declares and the laughter it brings is music to his ears. “I’m dead serious” he says with a smile and Atsushi smiles at the sight of it. “Only if you take me with you.”

Chuuya grins pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Deal.”

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd chuuya #chuuatsu #atsushi nakajima #chuuya nakahara

56 notes · View notes

kakao-lovey · 4 months ago

Text

𖦹 Your all-encompassing scripting / OC creation sheet for shifting, writing or manifestation

Just something I created for funsies. This sheet doesn't really have a target audience, use it for whatever you like.

Full name:

Nickname: (Family: Partner: School/work: )

Age: (Perceived: Mental: Physical: )

Pronouns:

Gender identity:

Sexuality, romanticism:

Status: (Single/Dating/Engaged/Open/Married/Other)

Height:

Weight:

Family:

Medical conditions:

𖦹 Physical appearance

Most striking feature:

Skin colour: (Undertones, overtones, cold/warm/neutral)

Blush colour:

Skin features: (Acne, rosacea, freckles, stretch marks, moles, vitiligo, wrinkles/lines, scars, tan lines, bruises)

Skin type: (Oily, combination, dry, normal, eczema)

Other skin descriptions: (Ashy, transparent, clear, soft, even-tone, rich, glowy)

Hair colour: (Specify warm/cold/neutral shade, dyed or natural)

Hair type: (1a-4c) *

Hair porosity: (Low, high, normal) *

Hair thickness: (Strands, overall volume)

Hair length and cut: (Waist, mid-back, shoulder-length) (Find a picture on Pinterest and paste it here)

Other hair descriptions: (Glossy, soft, coarse, feathery, light, glowy, matte)

Eye colour:

Eye shape: *

Eyelid type: (Double, monolid)

Glasses: (Prescribed or fashion, colour, metal or plastic, shape)

Eyelash length, thickness, colour:

Other eye features: (Eye patch, scarring, heterochromia, aegyosal, eye bags/under-eye appearance)

Other eye descriptions: (Tired, sparkling, starry, watercolour, deep, dead)

Nose shape: (Hooked, button, ski-slope, flat, angled)

Lip shape: (Heart-shape, round, thin, plump)

Lip colour: (Rosy, red, neutral, two-toned)

Other lip descriptions: (Plush, soft, kissable, upturned/downturned, cracked)

Ear shape: (Large, small, more protruding or less protuding)

Piercings: (Any facial/body piercings)

Tattoos:

Other body modifications:

Posture:

Mannerisms:

Body type: (Plus-size, athletic, underweight, toned, thin, chubby etc.)

Body shape: (Pear, hourglass, inverted triangle, rectangle, apple)*

Hands: (Long or short fingers, bony or chubby, veins)

Arms: (Muscular, thin)

Legs: (Thighs, calves, ankles)

Waist, belly:

Chest:

Shoulders and back:

Feet: (Large shoe size, small shoe size)

𖦹 Style

Main wardrobe colours:

Clothing aesthetic in a few words:

Statement pieces:

Clothing quality and material:

Preferred clothing store(s):

Casual outfit: (An example of what you wear):

Dressy outfit:

Sports outfit:

Sleepwear:

Hair accessories:

Main hairstyles:

Bags:

Jewellery:

Other accessories:

Specific items of clothing you have:

Makeup style:

Perfume/body scent:

Manner of talking:

Stance on swearing:

𖦹 Personality

Take each of these attributes and put them on a slider from zero to one-hundred. Add explanations, if desired.

Introvert/Extrovert: (Social battery)

Pessimist/optimist:

Kindness and generosity:

Charm:

Serious/silly:

Self-love, self-preservation:

Energy in social settings (Hyperactive, tired and reserved):

Attitude towards work/education:

Attitude towards life in general:

Discipline:

Love of routine:

Quiet life / busy life:

Creativity:

Attachment to reality: (Tendency to dissociate)

Paranoia:

Political/social opinions: (Or lack thereof)

Philosophical standpoint: (Optional)

Religious standpoint: (Optional)

Dislikes:

Likes:

Motivation / reason to live:

Love language(s):

𖦹 Occupation

Current place of education/work:

Your standing at your place of work/education: (High schooler, manager, CEO, apprentice)

History of education/apprenticeship/lack thereof: (E.g. Went to kindergarten here, primary school there, switched schools etc.)

Academic achievements (What you would put on your resume):

Grades: (Past, present or future)

Hobbies:

Activities in free time:

Favourite music / things to listen to:

Favourite movies / shows / things to watch:

Favourite books / comics / manga / things to read:

Favourite things to draw / paint / compose / create: .* : If you are unsure, do research

63 notes · View notes

in1-nutshell · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii!! Could i request a TMNT 2012 Teengaer Buddy who's Casey's chilhood bestie, Buddy is a year younger than him. So, they notice that Casey has bien weird for a while and one Day Buddy saw him entering a sewer. Buddy followed him without thinking twice, believeng their best friend had gane crazy. So , we all know what happened. THEY MEET THE TURTLES. At first Raph was a bit mean with Them, because he couldn't believe that a human had found their home so quickly, Leo at first was distant, but after seeing that Buddy isn't a threat, he warmed up to them real Quick. Donnie and Buddy became friends when Buddy helped him with a virus, and they sometimes work together on projects, Splinter fears for the safety of this teenagers. Mikey liked Buddy inmediatly after they complimented his comic taste and told Mikey that he read them too. Splinter was a bit harder, but later they were close, Splints, just like with April accepted them as his New "adopted kid" and trains them with April. One Day, Casey let out that Buddy was an orphan Who was currently on a foster home, that Day Buddy was sick, so they weren't there to hear the conversation. When they came back and found out about what casey said, they were mad at him. Splinter took them aside and said that if they ever felt alone or unloved in their home, they would always have a home with them. Buddy cried and hugged him, thanking him for everything, Splints hugged them back. It took a while for Buddy to forgive Casey but they were fine after that. Now Buddy has a second home with the turtles, and they love having Buddy over.

First TMNT piece written!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy who is Casey Jones childhood friend meeting the Turtles

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Human reader

TMNT 2012

Buddy was Casey’s friend since… they couldn’t quite remember.

But that didn’t matter.

They both came as a package deal.

Where one went, the other followed.

Buddy is on the hockey stands waving a poster. Buddy: “YOU GOT THIS JONES!! BEAT ‘EM UP!!!” April: “This is just practice.” Buddy gives her a stink eye. Buddy: “DON’T LISTEN TO HER CASEY! BEAT ‘EM UP!” Casey: “YEAH!!” Buddy: “YEAH!!”

And because they were both so close, it was obvious they noticed quickly when Casey started acting weird.

They bluntly asked him what was going on, but it was always met with dead end answers.

Buddy was sick of it.

They needed to get to the bottom of this.

Following him was the plan.

The next day, Casey meets up with April and go down the manhole.

All flags have been raised.

Why in the world is Casey Jones going to the rat infested sewers with April?

His last remaining brain cells must really be dying off in class if he is pulling stunts like this.

Armed with their trusty bat, they began to descend the manhole.

Buddy follows the pair quietly until they reach some sort of… lair? April and Casey are greeted by four mutant… turtles? As much as they want to go over there and bash someone’s head in… they had a better plan. Casey’s phone rings. Casey: “Yellow?” Casey: “Hey Casey, just out of curiosity, where are you right now?” Casey: “You know me. I’m just hanging out with Red. Studying for that test on Friday.” Buddy hangs up and coughs loudly getting everyone’s attention. Buddy has narrowed eyes. Buddy: “Try again Jones.” Master Splinter comes from around the corner. Buddy immediately raises their bat. Buddy: “WHAT IN THE BIG APPLE?! I KNEW THE RAT PROBLEM WAS BAD BUT NOT 6 FOOT BAD! GET BEHIND ME CASEY!”

Casey was friends with mutants… and he didn’t tell them?!

They want an explanation now.

Now time for the Hamato’s reaction.

Leo was wary at first over Buddy being here.

They were after all a stranger not matter how much Casey vouched for them.

After a bit and seeing that Buddy was no longer a threat, well a low threat compared to ninja standards, they still had a bat and could swing pretty good.

The leader in blue ended up warmed up to them.

Leo and Buddy are sitting in front of the TV. Buddy: “How many more episodes do we have until Captain Ryan goes back to his team?” Leo: “In a dream or for real?” Buddy: “For real.” Leo: “34.” Buddy: “…Play the next episode Blue.”

Raph is a bit mean to them, some of the off-handed comments sets Casey off more than Buddy.

There was a bit of tension between the two hotheads after some of the more, harsher ones.

Raph was mainly just angry how easy the lair was found out by some random human.

But after a few weeks and many vouches from Casey, the turtle in red eventually made some peace with Buddy.

Casey spots Buddy running through the lair with something in their hand. Casey: “Whatya got there Buddy?” Buddy flashes the weapon. Buddy: “A knife!” Raph is running right behind them. Raph: “That is not a knife! Give me back my sai!”

Donnie was neutral about Buddy for the longest time.

He figured that since Buddy hung out with Casey, they must be a lot like him.

For this reason, he stayed far away from them as possible.

It wasn’t until they helped him with some inventions and using their smarts to help him find a cure to a mutant virus.

The purple turtle started letting Buddy into his lab and assisting in his projects.

Soon enough they have a unlimited access to the lab.

Buddy and Donie are hunched over the computer. Buddy: “I think we should head for the kitchen.” Donnie: “% more minutes?” Buddy: “…Alright.” 5 hours later. Both Donnie and Buddy groggily head to the kitchen for some coffee. Mikey is in the kitchen. Mikey: “Hey! Almost time for breakfast!” Buddy: “Didn’t we just have breakfast?” Donnie: “Yeah, we just had some. You must mean lunch.” Mikey: “… How long have you been in the lab?” Buddy: “… How about we just eat breakfast.” Donnie already getting the coffee ready. Donnie: “Agree.”

Mikey, unsurprisingly, was one of the first to greet and befriend Buddy.

New human friend!

And they already know his other human friends!

Buddy just goes along with whatever the orange turtle’s activities are on the list.

They officially get the best friend seal the moment they compliment and ask for seconds for one of Mikey’s more bizarre concoctions.

Casey and Buddy are just sitting on the couch. Mikey runs into the room. Mikey: “Buddy! I got a new creation!” Buddy smiles and tries to stand up. Casey throws himself on top of them. Casey: “No! You’re going to get your stomach pumped!” Buddy: “Let me go Jones! I want that food!” Buddy is struggling to get Casey off of them. Buddy: “Mikey!” Mikey: “Let go of my BFF! Casey: “BFF? I’m their BFF!” Mikey: “You have been dethroned Casey! They’re mine now!”

Master Splinter was the last one to finally get used to Buddy.

How many more people are going to find out about this place?

But soon enough he saw them as his next adopted kid.

Splinter always wanted a family, and this is what he is getting.

He ends up training them like April.

Buddy still hasn’t gotten a weapon yet, they insist that their bat is enough.

Splinter comes out of his room and looks around. Everything seems alright— Wait, his Father sense are tingling… Splinter: “Where is Buddy and Donatello?” Leo: “They were in the kitchen last time I checked.” Raph: “No, they were playing in the game room.” Mikey: “I thought I saw them in his room.” April: “Has anyone checked the pool.” Casey: “They aren’t there.” Everyone: “…” Meanwhile up top. Buddy has an apple on top of their head. Buddy: “All right Donnie. You ready?” Donnie readies his new modified staff. Donnie: “Ready!”

One day, while Buddy was at home with a cold, Casey accidentally slipped what their living and family situation was.

He didn’t mean it to come out like that, it was in the heat of the moment and Raph was assuming things about them.

He had a right to defend his friend!

Casey knew what was going to come for him the second Buddy found out.

And it was April who had mentioned it on accident.

Casey comes into the lair running and yelling apologies while Buddy was trying to swing a bat at him.

Splinter does take Buddy aside after sneakily grabbing their shoulders and gently guiding them to his room.

Splinter makes some tea for them to calm down.

He casually mentions that this lair was their second home and always welcomed whenever they feel like it.

He turns around only to be met with a tight hug and Buddy crying softly.

It’s a while later when Buddy, calmed down, does come out.

They don’t forgive Casey straight away.

They make sure he works for that apology.

After though, everything seems much lighter, happier for Buddy.

Yes, life is good.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 x platonic reader #human buddy

58 notes · View notes

inkbun · 1 year ago

Text

Strange Fruit

Words: 792

Pairing: Dracula/F!Reader

AO3 link

(Not canon adherent at all. This woke me up in a dream at 3 am, so I wrote it)

When you arrive, the first thing he notices is your smell. You reek. Not of piss or shit (the usual scents humans wafted in the throne room), but the deep wet tang of arousal.

Disgust curls his lip. “You want me to fuck you.”

That sent you reeling, a bug-eyed chorus of “no no no” and some piss-poor explanation about working with his wife in Wallachia as a physician’s assistant.

The way you bow – step-tap of polished black shoes as you lower too quickly and rise again, flushed – reminds him of a dog tripping over its feet to greet its master.

But a physician is useful to keep his blood bags alive, so he agrees.

The indiscretion follows, an apple tumbled from the cart. Bruised. Rotten.

To your credit, it is months of careful performance before your need breaches the surface.

You move about the castle like deer approach an open clearing – footfalls flitting, never landing. You turned apology to rosary, words worn to smooth beads in your mouth: “Sorry”, “I’ll come back later”, “Didn’t mean to disturb”.

The bleating deference was cause enough to kill you. But you hadn’t lied when you told him that you worked alongside Lisa, or that you were an eager learner.

In the months since you moved into the castle, you’d caught on quickly.

You spent the first few weeks updating your knowledge, poring through the library’s texts at a rate he thought only his wife capable.

Soon after you entered the lab, dusting off Lisa’s instruments and continuing in her notebook.

The first time he saw you with it, black leather tome smudged with her loping cursive, he stopped. You held the gaze a moment, then went back to work.

It was the only time you didn’t apologize.

One night soon after he heard a noise on his way to the tower. Slrrp, then again – fainter, irregular, accompanied by a hitching, pleasured gasp.

When he looked through the cracked door, you were two fingers deep in your cunt, dress rucked up as you writhed.

It was mundane, really.

Sex. Money. Power. Humans were the same since time immemorial.

The sight hardly moved him; the scent bade him enter.

Beneath the iron croon of blood and animal musk of your wet was a resurrection – rose, parchment, clove, orange. It wasn’t the exact blend, but close enough to be an unmistakable copy.

A pang churned his stomach, would’ve forced the air from his lungs had they still respirated.

“You’re wearing her perfume,” he says, not bothering to announce himself.

Your eyes fly open, your hands rush to cover. The performance is not altogether convincing. Yes the motions are correct, as is your shriek of discovery.

But your eyes – heavy-lidded, almost relieved by intrusion – give you away.

“You want me to fuck you,” he says, peering at your form like a vivisection under magnifying glass.

This time, the truth. “Yes.”

The humans he kept were forgemasters, explicit in purpose and even more so in their passionate hatred of humanity.

You were meant keep the feeding populace relatively healthy – a glorified veterinarian. Beyond that…you were a tenuous link, an unwelcome echo that insisted on miming the inimitable.

Still, even a dull shadow was worth indulging if it ignited a flicker of what once was.

“Wait.”

The command freezes you in place, though he can practically hear the frisson of your nerves.

When he returns, he holds a bottle out to you.

Crystal, glittering under candlelight with a brass rose stopper. You uncork it without a word, dabbing the amber liquid on all the points his teeth could tear.

“Not a word.” You nod and lay back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The act itself is clinical.

You’re prepared enough for him to enter without preamble; he’s determined enough to make quick work of it. But your eyes still widen and your fingers still grasp at his shoulders – he grunts, live flesh fused against dead.

When your cunt clenches – choked sob ripped from your lips – it conjures Lisa. Fair where you are not, angelic where you bray.

His wife, where you…you…

A strangled, growling release cuts the thought short. When he looks down, you’re on the cusp of your own fit, pleading gaze boring into his.

For a moment, he considers splitting your neck with his nails. But he looks at the perfume on your nightstand and ruts once, twice until you’re brought over the edge.

Silently you compose yourself as he dresses to leave, crackling hearth flame the only sound.

In the doorway, he turns.

“Again, at this time tomorrow.”

#dracula x reader #vlad Dracula tepes x reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania x you #dracula castlevania x reader #my writing

224 notes · View notes

somuch-4-stardust · 6 months ago

Text

ABOUT ME! through blinkies nd stamps ☆ pt 1

source, very brief description, and explanation for each image under the cut

from blinkie cafe, bones w text saying "recovering rexic" - i have anorexia nervosa from blinkie cafe, stars in space w text saying "autistic & anxious" - i am diagnosed with ASD and GAD from blinkie cafe, blue pop up box w text saying "TOMMY FRANKLIN" - thats my first and middle names :3

from here, dark blue blinkie with white wings that says "guardian angel"- i like angels a lot :> from this post, blinkie with skulls and text saying "The Black Parade" - mcr reference/album... i love the black parade from here, brown blinkie with light pink text saying "love cant save you only my new powers can" - i was so excited to find this omg its based off a piece of clandestine merch that quotes a line from star wars

from this post, a bouncing line of bones - i just like bones lol. from here, blue blinkie w text saying "HE/HIM" - those r my prns! from this post, black and red blinkie saying "I <3 REVENGE"- for me personally this is a mikey revenge way and pete wentz's "i <3 revenge" clan shirt reference

from this post, a blinkie w a green alien head and text saying "abductable" - aliens hmu and let me leave this planet... from this post, a blinkie with two plushies saying "SQUISHMALLOW"- i love squishmallows theyre one of my special interests and also i am a squishmallow from here, blinkie of a line of discs - i just like cds !!

from this post, flashing red and white blinkie saying "i dont wanna grow up!" - literally just real idk from here, blinkie with handprints that says "Ghost Lover" - i love ghost i am a ghost real true from this, dark green blinkie w a skeleton that says "kick someone enough and they will not get up HAIL THE SUN"- i fw hail the sun!!!!!!!

from here, blue glittery blinkie w text saying "MADE OF STARDUST" - its true im made of stardust. also i love the stars from this post, blinkie of an ipod and music notes w text saying "i love my ipod!" - its true. i love my ipods :D from here, black and pale blue blinkie that says "always sleepy" - i am truly always sleepy!

from this, blinkie that says "what are you waiting for? KISS HER KISS HER" - lyrics from fob's a little less 16 candles which is one of my favorite songs and i love fob yyayayy from here, blue blinkie with an eyeball and bottle of mouthwash that says "mouthwashing" - i quite enjoy mouthwashing (video game) and also this persons blinkies were GORGEOUS from here, a dandelion yellow crayon- u have no idea how excited i was to find this. i love dandelion crayons (discontinued crayola color) and i collect them !!!!!! YAY!

from here, stamp of van gogh's wheat field w cypresses - i lovee van gogh :3 from this post, stamp that cycles through different emoticons - i like and use emoticons :33 ._. 0.0 <3 from this post, stamp that says "Pluto is a planet!" - i believe pluto is a planet and im from Illinois so.

from this post, stamp of a wii u and text that says "i <3 nintendo wii" - AGREE! dark blue stamp saying "FAGGOT"- self explanatory... im gay from here, stamp of the 3ds logo- i love my 3ds!!!

from here, stamp that says "back from the dead!" - they tried to get rid of me but im back (im a ghost literally fr fr) from this post, stamp that says "I <3 minecraft" - i love minecraft !!! from here, stamp w an apple that says "i love apples" - im lowkey obsessed with apples!!!!!!!!!!!

#TA-DA! i thought this was a fun way to get to know me hehe #blinkies #intro

62 notes · View notes

chezzywezzy · 6 days ago

Text

Yandere Joshua Washington (2/?)

WC: 4.5k

“Hey, R, you dead in there or something?”

Josh’s muffle voice from beyond the door alerted the woman out of her slumber. She let out a gasp and flailed momentarily, which seemingly caused the man to panic and slam the door open. A wave of cold washed over her and she screams for the man to get out as she covered her body.

He is stuck in place for a moment before his face reddened and he dipped out to the bedroom and shut the door. “Fuck, I’m sorry, R! It’s just been, uh, like two fucking hours…! I was worried!”

R calmed herself and stepped out of the tub to wrap a towel around. The water ha became somewhat cold and the stark difference as she pulled on her pajamas was alarming. Had she slept for that long?

“It’s okay, Josh,” she called in return. “Sorry - I had fallen asleep. I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

Beyond the door, she heard the slight tremble in his voice - despite his act, R recognized that even after two years, he still held intense paranoia. Her heart ached at the thought that he was now suffering in silence.

After freshening up, she stepped out of the bedroom. Josh had packed on an extra layer and his eyes held a firm anxiety. R sent a small smile his way as he hovered in the doorway with a beer in his hand.

“Ben sobered up and went to get something from the car a bit ago, so I guess I was bored, ya know? Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve sen my favorite gal.”

Every word that slipped off his tongue held a sense of fabrication that R could not quite identify. So, instead, she pulled on a sweater and nodded. “Sure. If nobody else is here yet, I guess I’ll do you the honor of keeping you company, Joshie.”

He perked up instantly, installed with a confidence. A grin that almost took her back to the past blossomed on his face and he was quick to grab R’s elbow and pull her out of the bedroom. As he progressively led her to the kitchen, R eased into his familiar touch; his fingers went from her arm to her waist to her lower back, firmly pulling her toward the island.

R sat at the island across from Josh as he slid an already opened beer toward her. She quirked her eyebrow. “You’re giving me leftovers, Josh? Since when have you been budgeting the alcohol?”

Josh snickered as he leaned against the counter. “And since when have you been this wasteful? What’s wrong with a bit of Benjamin saliva, eh?”

“If you want his saliva so bad, why don’t you go make out with him?”

The man quirked a brow before sinking comfortably into the stool. He chuckled, but there was a lack of humor behind it. R gulped and reached forward and grabbed Josh’s hand before he could down the rest of his beer.

“Josh… you don’t really look like you’re holding up too well. Have you been doing okay?” R asked quietly, sensing the atmosphere shift.

The man almost flinched away from her hand. It trembled beneath her’s and betrayed the underlying fear and grief. The faux excitement faded from his eyes and his lips twitched. The air turned heavy with unspoken admittance.

Every time Josh stuttered out the start of a sentence, he breathed and restarted. R squeezed his had with reassurance and sent a small, pitiful smile his way. A minute of comfortable silence passed.

“I… I’m handling it better, R,” he answered with a softness that had been lacking until now. “I’ve come to terms with everything, really. I promise I’m trying - this all is just, uh, one last hurrah, I guess.”

R blinks before nodding slowly, accepting his explanation. “That makes me happy, Joshie. I hope you can find some peace from all this.”

His hand twitched by instinct as R pulled away and took a sip of the beer. Her nose shriveled in disgust as a bitter taste and she let the liquid fall back into the container. She release a strained cough before pushing the drink away. Josh grinned.

“The hell did you add to this?” R grumbled, the aftertaste sticking to her tongue.

“Oh, just some apple cider vinegar,” he quipped. “‘Was hoping to get a rise out of you. Here’s a real beer.”

The man slid an unopened can to which R sent him a glare before accepting it. She was quick to down the beverage to replace the traumatizing poison. Josh had a rather eager expression the entire time, but the atmosphere sunk into sincerity once more.

“R,” Josh mumbled, shoulders tensing with uncertainty. “Are you… happy? With him, I mean?”

The woman felt her chest clench with an unresolved guilt - that even if the official breakup and what led up to it had fallen on the back burner so that they could be friends in the years that followed, she had always worried Josh held it against her. After the breakup, both had silently decided none of it had ever happened; that everything they were was just casual. R had always walked that tightrope while believing that she was over exaggerating the impact of breakup. And yet, two years later, after R had begun to heal, he acknowledged what they had been.

She gulped slowly and her mouth felt dry. Josh’s expression gave way for a remnant of how he once was; the trembling of his lips and that manic fright that led to the relationship’s demise.

“He is good for me, Josh,” R muttered, almost defensively, as her fingers paled around the cold beer can. “We’re very happy together. I hope…”

“Hope what?”

He tried to maintain an eased expression, but his voice cracked as he answered.

“”I just hope you can find happiness, too. I think we’ve always been better than friends, Josh, you know? I’ll always love you in a way, but life just doesn’t work out like that. You’ll always be a good friend. If anything… I’m happier this way only because it’s easier to keep a friend than a lover, if that makes any sense. You’ll always be a platonic soulmate.”

“…Yeah.” A moment later, he seemed to blink away hurt and sent a reassuring smile while rubbing the back of his neck. “No, yeah, sorry, uh… I didn’t mean to ask that for that reason or anything, R. No need to be all cheesy, haha. But… I’m happy for you. He seems like a genuine guy and all that shit.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two as they took quiet sips of beers while maintaining a gentle, grateful eye contact. R wanted to take his words as they were, even if she didn’t believe them entirely. She’d recognized those searing eyes. But even so, he seemed like he was on a path of healing.

Sometimes she wondered where they would be now if the accident had never happened.

“I have to say, though,” Josh suddenly spoke,” I wouldn’t replace those two years with you for the world. Obviously we’re friends and all, but… whoever ends up being who you walk down the aisle to will be the luckiest guy alive.”

R choked back a sudden heartbroken gasp. It wasn’t from residual romantic attraction for her, no: it was entirely guilt-based. If even the smallest decision had been changed back then, would Josh be happy again?

She didn’t get the option to reply as a boisterous group of bickering voices broke through beyond the front door. It was swung open by Mike and the group of five trailed in afterwards. For a moment, she was taken back to that night. None of them looked different. None of them had changed, except for who they were romantically involved with, apparently. Emily was with Matt, who looked like a lost and insecure puppy dog, holding several suitcases and bags. And Mike was with Jessica - and Jessica was the insecure one, noticing the glances that Mike and Emily exchanged. And then there was Sam, who’s eyes immediately fell on Josh.

That woman wasn’t very hard and keeping her cards close to her chest. Guilt, pity, and attraction swarmed in her eyes and the eye contact her and Josh exchanged was reciprocated. Intensely. It made her heart sink, because Josh smiled, but his eyes did not crinkle with joy.

He clearly disliked the woman to some degree. But what had changed since their last encounter…?

“God, could that have been more inconvenient?” Jessica immediately scoffed, grabbing Mike’s arm.

“Hey, guys,” Matt greeted, waving awkwardly as he set heaved the suitcases into the living room.

“Yo,” Mike agreed.

Emily was quick to scowl at her phone. The signal was always lost after the ride up the bench - but apparently, she’d expected that to change.

Josh is quick to hop off the bar stool and walk into the living room. R reluctantly trailed after him, already feeling the rush of emotions lads to rest resurface. And yet the man worst inflicted by the event was suddenly so boisterous, patting the two men’s backs and returning the greeting.

“Sorry for the repairs. Hell, I even had to break into the house since the celebration was a. Little last minute,” he chortled, attempting to set the tense atmosphere at ease.

R was suddenly struck by a thought. “Hey, uh, guys… you all didn’t run into anyone else on the way up, did you?”

Emily scoffed. “God, I wish. It was so-o-o annoying to have to carry my purse.”

“Um, no,” Sam agreed. “Why? Isn’t this all of us?”

Her brows furrowed and she felt Josh’s concerned gaze fall on her. She hardly noticed when their shoulders brush and he squeezed a hand on her shoulder. “You guys remember Ben, right? I invited him, too. He’s R’s boo,” he was quick to explain. “He went down to the car a bit ago. He forgot some stuff, I think.”

“Eh? You’re telling me you two still aren’t rubbing stomachs? I was convinced you guys wouldn’t survive a breakup,” Mike chuckled, only to receive an irritated jab from Jessica’s elbow.

R quickly stood up straight and leaned away from the man beside her. “N - no? But you guys seriously didn’t even see the car?”

“Sorry, R, there weren’t any other cars in the lot,” Matt suddenly answered. “Do you think he went into town or something?”

Her breath was suddenly stolen from her lungs. Had Ben left? Had this all been too much? It had been three hours since her bath - that meant he must have left for town in the last hour… but he had also been drinking and had no need to disappear like that. Her mind began to race. What did it all mean?

R could hardly think about that when Matt suddenly sized up Mike. “What, like you can talk. Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, man.”

Matt was concerned, flinching. “Excuse me?”

“Hey, what the fuck are you insinuating?” Jessica sneered.

A snarl curled against his lips and he gestured wildly. Emily even looked somewhat uncandor by the sudden confrontation. “I know what I saw. You were getting all handsy down at the ski lodge. Some ‘catch-up.’”

Mike suddenly bunched his fists and he became angry. “Hey, man, it’s not what you fucking think. We hadn’t talked in a while and I just wanted to put the bad blood behind us, you prick.”

“Seriously, Matt?” Emily interjected. “I have higher standards than that. Don’t be so insecure.”

Matt’s face fell and he shrunk away by instinct. All R could think about was how tight Emily’s leash on the man was. One tug, and he came zipping back to her side. But her phrasing had then upset Jessica in return.

“Seriously? You don’t have any standards, actually,” Jessica snapped, crossing her arms. “I bet you’re just fucking butthurt that Mike grew up and didn’t want some cheating whore like you.”

Before a screaming match could ensue as both women closed the distance between them, despite their frightened boyfriends holding them back, Josh intervened, waving his arms around wildly.

“Hey, hey, hey, guys, chill out! Why don’t you guys go settle down first before tearing each other apart, huh?” He held a playful, knowing tone that confused her to some degree. R was nothing short of angry that they were still as immature and self-absorbed as before, paying no mind to the deaths that haunted the lodge. “Listen, Mike, Jess, up the trail there’s the couples cabin. You guys can have that. Matt, Emily, Sam, you guys can stake out the rooms from upstairs, okay? We’re here to celebrate!”

R scowled and had to cascade her view of them to avoid sending a hateful glare. If being around these insufferable idiots was closure for Josh, though, she would endure it. But the fact that even after their actions had life-altering consequences and that instead of working through the nuances of grief. They were frozen in time and defaulted to cruelly deflecting the blame onto the others.

“Yeah, come on, Jess,” Mike grinned awkwardly. “We’ll be around in the evening…”

The other couple ventured upstairs while Matt eagerly dragged Emily’s luggage behind him. It was a weekend stay - so the fact that she required three bags and two suitcases was alarming. And Sam… vied for remaining with R and Josh, with only a backpack to spare.

“So, um…” Sam muttered, playing with her fingers,” What have you guys been up to?”

“Just drinking,” Josh answered comfortably, motioning to the table.

“Nice…! Mind if I join?”

R sensed that Sam was mostly speaking to Josh. She didn’t mind. Clearly, they had some sort ofd unraveling history, too. In R’s eyes, she was the least responsible for the prank and had always met the event with humility and grief. She did well in becoming genuine. So that led her to wondering why Josh’s eyes were so cold when Sam had been the one to step up as a main support system and take R’s place when she left him. They’d always seemed like friends.

She rubbed the back of her neck, thumb pointing toward the upstairs. “I think I want to dive into a book for a bit. I want to check up on Ben, too, if he doesn’t come back in the next hour, so I might as well rest now…”

Sam sent a polite smile and nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. I… I know we’ve never known each other that well, R, but I hope you’re happy. This trip must be a hassle for you, after all.”

Josh scoffed jokingly and messed up R’s hair briefly. “As if. She’s treating it like a resort vacation instead, huh?”

R chuckled and nodded before stepping away. With one last nod to the pair, she returned to her bedroom. She felt tempted to glance behind to see how the pair interacted. Josh had an intensity about him that Sam seemed to unlock. It held animosity, but what if it was him struggling with attraction for her?

They would make a nice pair.

R settled down in her bedroom. She thought that maybe Ben had left a note, but everything was essentially untouched. It confused her. Ben had never been one to be a drama queen or remotely uncommunicative. But R had dragged him along, and maybe that was the breaking point for how hidden his emotions were.

She was angry about it, but that felt unwarranted. She’d been dating him for nearly a year now. There’s no way he’d up and abandon her, even if he didn’t want her anymore. He was simply too sweet of a man.

So, instead, he dived into a novel. It was hard to focus as the words painted across her eyes, as her minds was haywire and her ears filled with the unpleasant creaking from the bedroom next door.

Apparently, Matt and Emily were a match made in hell if distrust and insecurity with one another turned them on.

It was only when she had to click on the lamp that she became dutifully aware of how dark it had become. The house was surprisingly silent. Last she had heard, Matt and Emily ran back to the car as well to run into town and the rest was history. When she checked her phone, it displayed that an hour had passed.

Ben still wasn’t back. So, she desired to satiate her curiosity and travel out to where she could find a signal after she checked up on Josh.

She slowly exited the bedroom. The downstairs was silent until she made it to the last step. R suddenly froze, picking up on hushed yet intense conversation between Sam and Josh. The downstairs was dimly lit, but R saw how the two figures’ shadows stretched across, hovering closely.

Sam tried to close that distance while Josh held his arms up and placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping the woman at a distance.R could only infer from body language, but the hushes grew louder.

“It’s been two whole, years, Josh! Is that… is that seriously not enough to prove I like you?”

An audible scoff escaped his lips. “It wouldn’t matter ifs you did, Sam. I mean, uh, aren’t you just glad I even invited you? It’s because I’m trying to fucking forgive you.”

“Do you seriously hate me that much?” The woman’s voice cracked. “I know I never went about it all well, especially since you were in a relationship at the time, but… I still want to be with you, Josh.”

R suddenly felt a whelming crack in her heart. Has Sam tried something…?

“Hey, man, that’s not even why I was upset, you know? Especially since my sisters fucking died that night. It’s the fact that you fucking put moves on me and then, what, complied with hurting my family? And then waited like a fucking vulture for my relationship to end? You’re fucking creepy, Sam. Seriously.”

Oh. Well, that answered her question.

“I fucking know, Joshie! And I regret it every day, okay? I’m sorry I acted like that, but I’ve healed. And I still feel this way about you. So why haven’t you? Why are you still all over her, huh?”

A brief silence fell between them. The shadows suddenly grew in distance and Josh had turned away, rubbing his forehead as he hunched.

“…You’re seriously a bitch, you know that, Sam? My name’s Joshua. You don’t get to call me fucking Joshie, yeah? You don’t even understand… it’s not just about R, you know? It’s the principal of it. And, like, R’s still my best friend. I’m not stupid. Just piss off. I’m serious. Feel free to fucking dip. I regret inviting you. Get the fuck out the second it’s, uh, morning.”

R gulped down a sudden fury. Sure, her and Josh were no longer together, but… it hurt to know that Josh was fighting a separate battle that he’d never told her. No wonder he had been extra fucked up that night - glued to her hip, hardly leaving an inch between them as he drank himself stupid.

“Joshie, please…”

Sam was quick to follow after the man as he disappeared down the smaller hallway. The door to the basement opened and shut, although it seemed that the man wasn’t entirely fighting against the woman following her. R clutched at her chest as her breaths accelerated. To stop the intense feelings that flurried together, she stumbled over to the kitchen and grabbed an entire bottle of wine.

She didn’t even bother grabbing a glass. R downed the entire thing. But before she could even think to drink, R recognized how groggy she felt. Was it the emotional turmoil that was giving her this headache?

R eyed the abandoned beer can that had once been Ben’s. She chuckled to herself at how, even in such a tensely anguished atmosphere, Josh had still decided to joke around and lighten the mood: even if he was the victim.

The wine slid down her lungs. She slumped against the counter. She wanted to seek out a signal to call Ben before it got too dark, but it suddenly didn’t feel like that was in the car. Ben was a separate issue. And all of this… was a situation of its own.

A hand suddenly clasped on her shoulder. A gasp escaped her and the hand was quick to withdraw. Behind her was Josh. She wasn’t sure when he would have approached and when Sam had stopped following him, but there was something comforting about his amused grin.

“Hey, man, what happened to you?” His grin slowly faded as he noticed her red eyes and foul, sunken expression. He was quick to frown and rub her shoulder. “Hey, seriously, what happened?”

R furrowed her brows and suddenly scoffed. “I - I don’t really know, actually. Um, where’s Sam?”

She went to wipe her eyes and turn back toward the counter, but Josh spun the stool to face him and a hand reached out to her eyes. Her mouth was agape and her heart thudded deeply in her chest as his thumb gently swiped under her eye.

Josh frowned and stepped back, arms falling to his side. “I never told you because… well, uh, I guess because there were bigger fish to fry. I didn’t want to add other problems.”

“You… knew I heard that?”

Josh gave her a lopsided smile. “I mean, the lodge is pretty old. It was kind of impossible not to.”

“So Sam knew, too?”

“Yeah. I just… I’m sorry I invited her, R. And I’m sorry I never told you.”

R’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Her hands clutched at her knees as she hunched over. “No, I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I don’t know why I got so butthurt, honestly. It’s not like knowing changes anything. It’s not even really my business.”

Josh suddenly reached around and took a swing from the wine bottle too. A misty sadness flashed in his eyes and R simply watched as he downed nearly a thirds of the bottle in that instant. She almost reached out to stop him, but that would be rathe hypocritical.

A minute passed in silence before Josh broke it. “I’m sorry for… all this. I guess it really wasn’t a good idea, huh?”

The woman shook her head. “No, Joshie, I know what you were thinking. I hope it can still turn around… But…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive them - or myself. Ever.”

A frown twisted on his expression and he suddenly grabbed her shoulders. R was caught off guard and met his eyes. There was an intense, angry darkness that swirled in his brown eyes. It felt familiar, even if that anger wasn’t directed at her.

“I hate that you blame yourself, R,” Josh sighed, voice low and husky. “You did everything you could. You always have. R… I don’t think I ever would have forgiven them if you died with Hannah and Beth. Because you would have. A splinter of wood never could have supported you and the weight of two other fucking adults. What would have saved them wasn’t just you. It would’ve been those fucking assholes taking accountability and running after them before they even found the cliff or - or going with you at the bare fucking… fuck!”

Josh’s grip on her shoulders were suddenly a death grip and R released a quiet, shuddered cry. She reached out to the man and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His hands slid down to her hips, grasping at her as though she’d disappear the second he let go. His shoulders began to tremble and she felt his chest heave. Wet, sloppy tears slid down her neck as Josh burrowed his head into her neck. She felt his wet lips let out silent cries into her skin.

R’s sobs swallowed themselves whole as nothing but pity and guilt swarmed her. In that moment, it was but two lost souls being honest with one another for the first time in years.

It hadn’t even taken a week before Josh and R had rekindled after the break up. But there was a distinct boundary, as though they were vague friends rather than people bound together by trauma. It was like his sisters, his troubles, their relationship - none of it ever existed to begin with. It was comfortable, although awkward.

Even with healthy distance, the sincerity and honesty had come back to bite them both. Emotions had risen and led to this.

R ran her fingers through his greasy hair and she shushed his gently and lovingly. She thought only briefly about Ben - how would he feel about this interaction? But she scrapped the idea almost instantly. This was not the rekindling of a romance, no; this was the unburying of how they both truly felt about the worst night of their lives. This was two hurt people comforting one another. She thought about how Josh had referred to her earlier - a best friend. Yes.

“I’m sorry, Joshie. You never deserved any of this.”

The man’s cries quieted, although he did not fully pull away. He straightened his back slightly and met her eyes once more. His eyes swirled with a depth of longing and his under bags cried the story of a man who’d lived a hard life and lost it all. R recalled that even Chris, his long-lost childhood friend, had disappeared off the edge of the planet after he started dating a girl.

After all this time… did he still have nobody?

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere x reader #yandere until dawn #until dawn #yandere josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington

49 notes · View notes

glossdebut · 22 days ago

Text

take a bite: remastered | MYG ★ 2

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ SERIES TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer!yoongi, music journalist!reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up, now back and better than ever (excluding yijeong's bitchass)

✧ CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS: more social drinking in this chapter, horny thoughts from y/n, seokjin is a warning of his own tbh

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: there are definitely some changes in this chapter! hope you all enjoy <3

CH. 2: really nice to talk to you

Unsurprisingly, it’s less than twenty-four hours later when you run into him again. It tracks, now that it’s clear that the universe is dead set on throwing Yoongi in your path, that you’d see him in person before he’s even gotten the opportunity to text you. If he actually was planning to text you, that is.

It’s a little past four in the afternoon, and you’re both making it home from work. It seems that way, anyway, based on the bag slung over his shoulder and his business casual clothes. No one looks good in business casual, but he does. You hate him, you decide.

He’s also holding a huge bag of tangerines, which is… Well, you guess it’s a talking point. If you’re going to be forced to interact again (although you’re very much considering doing the rude thing and just running inside without saying a word) you might as well make up for the last time you saw each other. Last night. Or, this morning, really. You, drunk and drooling over him. Him, stupidly charming and a very good sport.

You’ve been hungover all day, but it started to wane on your way home from work. So you decide to do the neighborly thing and talk to him.

"That’s a lot of tangerines," you say, and you feel a little smug when Yoongi visibly startles at the sound of your voice. Serves him right after practically making you jump out of your skin last night.

He pulls out one of his headphones and grins, raising the bag triumphantly.

"I have a thing about tangerines," he explains. If that can even count as an explanation. "You want one?"

You can hear your mother in your ear chastising you for taking food from a virtual stranger, but you reason that just because you take one doesn’t mean you have to eat it, and you walk over to his door with your hand out.

"Sure," you say, eyeing the bag warily. "Only because I’m not convinced you could eat all of those by yourself."

He hums, staring at your hand as he pushes his door open, tilting his head toward the inside of the apartment in invitation.

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to tell him he could just hand you one, but Yoongi already has his back to you as he walks inside, kicking his shoes off at the door. You linger lamely in the doorway of his apartment.

"Oh—Uh, are you sure?"

"Would I have invited you in if I wasn't sure?" You continue to linger as Yoongi sets the bag down on the kitchen island. He opens a cabinet, procuring a plate. "I don't bite," he calls, turning on the tap of his sink to wash his hands.

You tentatively step inside, shutting his door behind you and setting your bag by his shoerack. You follow his lead, toeing your shoes off before joining him in the kitchen. You watch as he starts peeling the fruit across the island, shifting awkwardly.

Yoongi's eyes dart toward you for a moment as he continues to peel.

"You're acting like you're scared of me or something. You know I'm not gonna murder you, right?" he asks with a laugh, now starting to separate the sections of the tangerine.

"I know you’re not going to murder me," you assure him, visibly relaxing a little so as not to look like such a hopeless, awkward freak.

"Good. Just checking." He holds out a section of the tangerine, offering it to you.

You take it, smiling gratefully, but you let him eat his own piece first. It’s the least you can do, for your poor mother’s sake.

You do a shit job of being subtle as you glance around Yoongi’s apartment, but it’s not like you’re trying very hard to hide it. It’s a natural curiosity, to be in an apartment with a structural layout identical to your own, but so differently decorated. You feel like it’s not weird to look.

"What?" he asks as he eats his own section of the tangerine, and when you look back at him his eyebrow is raised in question.

"Your apartment is cleaner than I would’ve thought," you say, laughing a little.

"Did you think it would be gross?" Yoongi asks, amused. "Do I give off a gross vibe?"

You snort, because he absolutely does not. If anyone gives off a gross vibe between the two of you, it’s probably you, the sloppy drunk that almost threw up on him last night because he was so hot and so close and you were so wasted. But you keep that bit to yourself. "Not gross. Just… messy?" you offer, snatching another section of the tangerine from his hand. "Not gross, though."

"Oh, well that’s good," he teases, starting to peel another tangerine and dividing it evenly, sliding one half to you on the plate. "That you don’t think I’m gross, I mean."

"No, it’s very neat in here," you hum appreciatively, taking the plate. "The constant bed head thing you’ve got going on is very misleading." You point at his mussed hair. If you were a different person, maybe you’d touch it.

He beats you to it, ruffling it with a smirk. "You don’t like my hair?"

"I didn’t say that," you say. Something about Yoongi makes this back-and-forth come easily for you, and it feels dangerous. You should leave it alone, but you can’t. "Putting words in my mouth."

He hums—and then his gaze drops to your lips.

"You... have a little..." He gestures at the corner of his mouth, mirroring where something is, apparently, on yours.

You hurriedly bring your own hand up to rub at your mouth. He shakes his head, laughing in a way that’s more of a sharp exhale through his nose, and then he’s rounding the counter.

When he gets to you, he holds your chin, and you hold your breath in return, looking at him with wide eyes as he wipes it away himself.

Something shifts. You can feel the charge in the air as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and your heart does that stupid flippy thing again. This is a bad idea, you think. Since when did your life become a cheesy romcom? You don’t have time for this. Based on the sympathy in his eyes last night when you told him that, he doesn’t either. You both just got home from working on a Saturday after drinking last night, for fuck’s sake. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away even as every cell in your body screams at you to run out of his apartment right now, future awkward hallway run-ins be damned.

And then Yoongi’s apartment door is swinging open, and you’re flying away from him like shrapnel as a broad-shouldered man in a fuzzy pink sweater walks in like he owns the damn place, brown paper bags bundled in his arms.

"Yoongichiiiii," the man sing-songs. "Your Seokjinie-hyung is here to make you dinner, you cretin!"

Yoongi, who hasn’t moved, who didn’t fly away from you like shrapnel at the interruption, finally breaks eye contact with you to look at the man. His Seokjinie-hyung, apparently.

"Do you have to barge in here, hyung?" he says, with the type of tiredness that can only come from a person who endures this kind of thing five days out of the week, minimum. Can’t relate, you think. There’s nobody breaking down your door to make you dinner. "Can’t you knock like a normal person?"

"I didn’t anticipate you’d have company, Yoongi-yah," Seokjin says, turning his gaze to you to waggle his eyebrows. "I’m Seokjin. But you can call me oppa." He smirks, eyes flicking to Yoongi. "Unless, of course, you already call him that."

Ew, for one. You stare at him, your lips parting in shock, because what the fuck do you say to that? You’re completely dumbfounded by this beautiful, broad, gross man. He doesn’t even know how old you are!

"Hyung," Yoongi says sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you finally find your voice.

"I’m Yoongi’s neighbor," you say quickly, because this complete stranger does not need to think that you are sleeping with this other complete stranger and calling him oppa, of all things? What planet did you just beam to?

"Okay, Yoongi’s neighbor," Seokjin says, walking further into the kitchen and setting the grocery bags down on the counter. "That’s a beautiful name. Is it French?"

"Hyung," Yoongi repeats, louder this time, smacking the back of Seokjin’s head. "Don’t be an asshole to my guest."

"Yah, when did you become so disrespectful!" Seokjin says, surpassing Yoongi’s volume, smacking him right back, gesticulating wildly as he speaks. "Am I not a guest, too? Here I am, selflessly providing you with a home cooked meal, because god knows you’re completely unwilling to feed yourself properly. Don’t think I don’t see the tangerines, Yoongi-yah. Was that dinner?"

Okay, yeah. You are officially a spectator to whatever the fuck this is. You’re convinced that if you try to intervene in any way, you’ll lose an arm, and you can’t seem to get your legs to work to walk out the door, as much as you might like to. You’re frozen to the spot, entranced.

"You’re an unwanted guest," Yoongi hisses, smacking Seokjin once again. "And I am a grown man, fully capable of feeding myself."

"Yes, a grown man whose height topped out at five-foot-seven because of his horrific dietary habits," Seokjin retorts, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi as he starts unpacking the grocery bags. "Do you think these broad shoulders were bestowed upon me by god? They weren’t. It was kimchi-jjigae."

"Yah, you’re only three inches taller than me, hyung. Don’t get cocky just because of a few inches," Yoongi complains, and you swear you see him lift onto his toes for just a moment.

"Oh, but a few inches can make a world of difference, Yoongi-yah," Seokjin practically purrs, and at that you find your voice, because really, enough is enough.

"I should go!" you blurt out, and both of their heads snap in your direction comically fast. Seokjin looks amused, but also like he forgot you were there entirely, which you think is fair. Yoongi, however, looks incredibly guilty. You’d think it’s cute, if you could think anything right now besides ‘get out while you still can.’

Yoongi steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice so it’s only for you. You can feel your change of heart before you even process anything he says.

"I’m sorry…" he says, glancing back at Seokjin for a moment. "…For that." He sighs. "Look, I get it if you want to bolt right now. Seokjin-hyung has that effect on people."

You hear Seokjin’s cry of protest behind Yoongi, which Yoongi ignores.

"I just don’t want to intrude," you say. Polite. To the point. Your last line of defense, which Yoongi is quick to crumble with his soft voice and earnest words.

"You wouldn’t be. Despite being a pain in my ass, hyung is a good cook. And he makes enough food to feed an army even when it’s just the two of us," he continues. "I… You can stay and eat. I’d like it if you did."

What the fuck is happening to you right now? You can’t even begin to understand why you can’t seem to say no where Yoongi is involved, despite only meeting him less than twenty-four hours ago.

The only thing that you can tell is that it’s not just because of your attraction to him, as undeniable as it may be. You may be an introverted homebody, but you’re still a woman who gets hit on semi-frequently. If that’s what this was, no matter how pretty Yoongi is, you’re sure you’d still be able to say no. But you’re not saying no.

"…This is all very, very weird," you say, and Yoongi breathes out a strained ‘I know,’ which makes you relax a little. "I’ll stay, if you insist."

"He insists," Seokjin says, not even bothering to look up at you as he chops vegetables.

To your surprise, Yoongi doesn’t make any kind of cutting remark in Seokjin’s direction. He just keeps his eyes on you, nods in agreement.

"I insist."

So you stay.

★ ★ ★

Seokjin is very adamant about not letting you help in the kitchen.

"Unless he’s chopped off a limb to get out of it in the past ten seconds I haven’t been looking at him, Yoongi-yah has two fully-functioning hands and knows his way around a kitchen,” he tells you. “So you just sit and look pretty, and let your oppas take care of everything.”

You hate the delivery of that, really. But you do as he says, and it’s actually pretty nice.

Plus, you get to see just how fully-functioning those hands of Yoongi’s are. You have a fucking front row seat to the capability of those hands.

It does not help that Seokjin insists on refilling a wine glass for you every time you take a sip, but what does help is focusing on Seokjin’s weird, kind of cute pinky fingers instead of Yoongi’s fucking sinful everything that you want in your mouth more and more as the alcohol warms you.

The bickering between the two even seems to die down as they cook. It’s clear that the two of them have done this together before, and it even makes you wonder if they lived together for a point in time.

The conversation flows, weirdly domestic. You learn more about Yoongi in thirty minutes than most people probably do in thirty days, thanks to Seokjin’s very loose definition of appropriate conversation.

You learn that he works too hard, which he himself had alluded to last night, but Seokjin confirms with a gusto that makes you think it’s probably worse than you assumed. That he’s completely powerless to his dongsaengs, which Yoongi doesn’t even try to deny. That there are seven of them altogether, a close-knit friend group that will always be the seven of them barring death, and maybe even then. It’s all very sweet.

You’re in the middle of fantasizing about what it would be like to have six friends who love you so much when Seokjin turns the conversation to you suddenly.

"What do you do, Y/N?"

"I’m a music journalist for Look Here magazine," you reply, starting to straighten up with pride just as you did last night when you told Yoongi, but something in Seokjin’s expression makes you freeze.

He looks pleased as fucking punch, and you’re beginning to realize that is probably never a good thing.

"Oh, are you?" he purrs.

"Hyung," Yoongi says warily, but he looks just as confused as you feel.

"You know, our Yoongi makes music."

"Yes, he told me," you say slowly, your eyebrows furrowing.

"He’s very good," Seokjin continues. "Back in college, he used to write all of these raps about eating pus—"

"YAH! Stop!" Yoongi interjects, and when you look at him he is completely pink. You were already pink from the wine, so you would guess you’re fire engine red right now, if the heat in your cheeks is any indicator.

"You weren’t ashamed of it then, Mr. Tongue Technology," Seokjin sniffs, doling out rice into three bowls like he didn’t just drop a bomb that you’ll be thinking about for the rest of your life, maybe. Tongue technology.

"I was twenty," Yoongi complains, high and whiny in a register you weren’t even aware he could hit. "I was young and cocky, and I had an awful group of friends who never told me how fucking stupid I sounded." He turns to you, although he is barely able to hold eye contact. You’re in the same boat. "Please forget you ever heard that."

You nod, stiffly. What else can you do? Say you’d like to take that tongue for a spin, right now preferably? No, no, no, no. You need to get your mind out of the gutter, away from thoughts of a tangerine-sweet mouth and capable hands and—

"How about we talk about something else?" you offer, quickly. "What do you do, Seokjin?"

That seems like the right thing to say, because even when the three of you finally sit down to eat, Seokjin is still happily going on about his aspirations as an actor.

★ ★ ★

Seokjin rubs his belly happily, slumped against his chair.

"God, I’m good," he sighs. "Tell me how good I am, Yoongichi."

"You’re so good, hyung," Yoongi says flatly.

"Thank you again for having me," you say, smiling a little. Despite your apprehension towards Seokjin at first, dinner was surprisingly pleasant and, to his credit, really fucking good. "Both of you."

"Ah, you should come next time all the kids are around," Seokjin says, grinning. "It’ll be a hoot."

Yoongi stays quiet across from you, but he meets your eyes and nods. Flip.

"Well… I’m only two doors down," you say softly, looking down at your empty bowl.

"Just wait until Jiminie and Jeongguk get ahold of her," Seokjin says to Yoongi. You don’t know what that could possibly mean, could mean a lot of things coming from Seokjin, but Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"We should probably clean up," Yoongi says, starting to stack the bowls with a glance in Seokjin’s direction. "Do you need a ride home?"

"I’m not an invalid, Yoongi-yah," Seokjin scoffs. "I can take the bus." He stands up, snatching the bowls away from Yoongi. "Let hyung clean up and I’ll be on my way."

Yoongi doesn’t put up a fight, handing off the bowls, and then Seokjin is in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since tangerines and Yoongi’s thumb on your bottom lip.

"Thank you," you say again, this time just for Yoongi. Quiet. "It’s been a long time since I’ve had a night like this."

"I wouldn’t have any nights like this if it weren’t for Seokjin-hyung and the rest of my friends," Yoongi says, brutally honest in the way you’re figuring out he must always be. "When you love what you do, it’s hard to remember that there’s anything else."

You nod, because you know exactly what he means by that.

"I know we just met, but if you ever need…" He shakes his head, putting his words together. He looks unbelievably shy, not for the first time tonight. "Ah, I’m not used to being the one to give this speech. Look, we can hang out, is all I’m saying. I know how it feels."

You realize then and there what Yoongi is offering, and something clicks into place. Friendship. Despite the charged moments, the clear attraction, he’s offering to be someone you can go to. Someone who gets it and won’t judge. It doesn’t feel like pity, either, strangely.

This is why you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, you realize. He’s offering you something you desperately need, so selflessly. Honestly. Maybe in spite of what he really wants.

You smile, despite the fact that you kind of feel like crying.

"Only if you show me those raps Seokjin was talking about."

Yoongi returns your smile, just as soft. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence isn’t awkward, not exactly. Just heavy, settling like a weighted blanket. Like understanding. Neither of you seems to want to break it.

Then, as if on cue, Seokjin does.

"Well, look at the time," Seokjin says, loud enough to make you jump a little in your seat. "Would you believe I have a very important… thing. In the morning."

You glance at the clock. It’s not that late, not for a Saturday. You know it. He knows it. Yoongi definitely knows it.

Yoongi doesn’t look up. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?" Seokjin asks, all wide-eyed innocence.

"You know what," Yoongi mutters, jaw working.

You sit there, paralyzed between amusement and the strong desire to melt into the nearest crack in the floorboards. Because Seokjin isn’t saying anything outright, but there’s a tone. An implication in the way he’s making a show of his departure.

Seokjin shrugs, lips twitching. "Well. I just figured I’ve, you know, occupied enough of your evening. Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome."

"You invited yourself," Yoongi points out.

"Yes, but I did it so charmingly,” Seokjin retorts, grin widening now. "Besides, I thought she might enjoy something other than your usual monosyllabic brand of hospitality."

Yoongi shoots him a look. "Hyung."

Seokjin just hums. "What?" he asks, all innocence. "I’m just saying, there’s wine, the lights are dim… Feels rude to stick around."

Your face heats up immediately. Yep, melting into the floor sounds nice. Or disappearing into your wineglass. Something. Anything.

Yoongi sighs. "You were the one who brought the wine."

"And now I’m graciously leaving it behind," Seokjin replies, smoothing his shirt, picking off a piece of lint. "See? I'm generous like that."

You force a laugh, awkward and tight. He’s not saying anything explicit, not really—but the insinuation is very much there, hanging in the air between the three of you. Like you and Yoongi are going to jump each other as soon as Seokjin leaves, or something.

Yoongi stands, like he’s heard enough. His movements are stiff as he ushers Seokjin to the door. "Goodnight, hyung.”

"Yeah," Seokjin says, already stepping into his shoes as he calls back to you, "goodnight, Yoongi’s neighbor!"

You wave, too stunned to do much else. "Night…?"

The door shuts behind him, and the silence that follows is thicker than the last.

Yoongi stares at the door for a moment before his eyes flick back to you. He rubs the back of his neck, and you see something like discomfort flicker across his face.

"I’m sorry about him," he mutters. "He’s… a little much."

You shrug, trying to play it off. "It’s fine. He didn’t do anything."

"You’re too nice," Yoongi says with a short, dry laugh. "He always gets under my skin. He does it on purpose, but you… you learn to take it in stride, after a while."

You shake your head. "It’s not a big deal."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"He grows on you," you admit.

Yoongi snorts. "Like mold."

Now that it’s just the two of you in the low light, his gaze lingers. Yours does too. You’re painfully aware of the lack of space between you, how easy it would be to pick up where you left off before Seokjin barged in hours ago. Yoongi looks like he wants to, maybe.

He clears his throat instead. "Want me to walk you back?"

You shake your head, gently, and mentally remind yourself of what this is. "I think I can survive the hallway."

"Still," he says, then stops himself. Recognizes the boundary. Respects it with a soft, "okay. Yeah."

You stand, brushing off imaginary crumbs from your thighs. "Thanks again for the tangerine. And… the dinner. And everything."

"Anytime," he says. Then, "really. Anytime."

You nod. Yoongi walks you to his door, leaning against the frame as you step out into the hall. You turn back to him, your hand on your doorknob.

"Goodnight, Yoongi."

"Goodnight, neighbor," he says, lips twitching up at the corners.

You make your way to the door, keeping your head down so you don’t meet his eyes again. Your heart’s still thudding in your chest, and when the door clicks shut behind you, you immediately press your hands to your cheeks.

Warm. Too warm.

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

askbox ★ ao3 ★ anonymous feedback box

@kkaetnipjeon @ktownshizzle @joonary @ggukivrse @chrrybbmb

@sunreads @futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @wobblewobble822

@this-most-assuredly-counts @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @sugafun @whoa-jo @amarawayne

@kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @jimingirl95 @jadestonedaeho7 @notsevenwithyou

@perfctlyunstable @yoonmetogether @kpophosblog @chimmchimmm @nnybtitts08

@itsmina29 @sophia--915 @jeanjacketjesus @kiki-zb @velvetskize

@gelijar @livi101ful @annyeongbitch7 @pitchblack0309 @goldietigers294

@hopegdbbggloss @kam9404 @jajabro @parapiop7 @mar-lo-pap

@tarahardcore @butterymin @svnbangtansworld @rainnamu @auroradamned

@mintedagustd @angellekookie @watchingover-hypegirl @slytherinatheart

@seokjinthescientist @namgimini

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

39 notes · View notes