#i hate this small town 'everyone knows everyone' shit bc it should not be normal to drink with a student's pareNT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

taglist : @criminalmindsvibez @moreidstrobed @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @temily @enbyspencer @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

170 notes · View notes

pennylanewrites · 3 years ago

Text

I got seven different asks about the College AU so here are some headcanons I have about them! (imagine aiura is in the picture I couldn’t find a good one with all of them)

I definitely didn’t mean to make this so long but I can’t help it I love them all so much<3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Saiki Kusuo

→ marine!!!biology!!!major!!!!!!!!

→ doesn’t need to study but he still does bc he finds marine life so fascinating

→ read all of his textbooks on the first day bc he was so excited eeeek

→ always wears his germanium ring in class so he can stay hashtag focused

→ him and aiura have to bail toritsuka(didn’t go to college) out of jail once a month

→ speaking of aiura, she somehow has convinced him to go on a date on five different occasions

→ i think after high-school he realised he didn’t mind a kind of casual not-relationship with her

→ lets her hug him to greet him and sometimes he hugs back bc college boys stare a lot and he is just worried for her okay?

→ maybe I’m just projecting bc I kin aiura

→ does not go to parties unless he absolutely has to

→ if he does go to a party he’ll drink something quietly in a corner, just watching the crowd

→ a perv laced Teruhashi’s drink and almost lured her up the stairs so of fucking course Kusuo sprinted to help her, holding her on the way home bc men are drawn to her like bees to honey

→ she didn’t let him live it down ever

→ he rented a studio apartment and keeps it super clean, minimum clutter but enough to look lived in

→ cooks amazing food that Nendo smells from upstairs and next thing you know, they’re all bringing chairs to Kusuo’s apartment and have dinner

→ nothing excuses the fact he makes at least eight servings every time–

→ such a dad to everyone honestly

→ usually studies at a library or teleports back home if there’s a big test

→ mrs. saiki was banned from visiting every two days but she still ends up there somehow

→ not that he minds bc he’s the biggest mama’s boy ever

→ probably graduates a year early

→ doesn’t move away even though he got a job at the aquarium at the other side of the city help–

Kaidou Shun

→ fine arts major you can NOT change my mind

→ doesn’t do good in theoretical subjects but mans can draw some good bowls of fruit

→ wears those stained from the paints t-shirts all the time bc ‘no they’re not dirty it’s art!’

→ him and aren have small designated spaces in their apartment so they can focus on their hobbies/studying

→ his corner at the living room has newspapers on the floor to protect it from the splattering paint, some canvases propped up on the wall and a lot of unfinished projects

→ hides all of them when Nendou comes over

→ can not cook or clean to save his life

→ so he calls his mum to help clean up when Aren is at work

→ got over his 8th grader syndrome at some point

→ still wears red bandages bc he’s edgy

→ volunteers at the neighborhood exhibit centre

→ got asked to showcase his own works for a night and hasn’t shut up about it since

→ goes to yumehara for relationship advice and braids her hair as a thank you

→ couples sleepovers with Yumehara and Teruhashi (yes they’re dating shut up)

→ always makes something for Aren at special occasions (birthdays, anniversaries etc)

→ at first he went back home every saturday bc he missed his family :(

→ Aren helps him get over it though!!!!

Nendou Riki

→ got in on a sports scholarship

→ we already know he couldn’t be accepted in a college otherwise

→ in the chiropractic major bc he wants to be one of those athlete doctors

→ has failed way too many exams and classes

→ Hairo helps him so much though!!!

→ the last one in the group to graduate but somehow gets a job first (excluding Saiki)

→ him and hairo get up at 5 am for jogging or to hit the gym

→ and then he goes and gets noodles bc ‘if noodles aren’t for breakfast why do shops open at 6 am?’

→ hasn’t stepped foot in class in months

→ he gets decent grades after failing the first semester and it’s totally not Saiki’s doing

→ he ends up signing up for way too many clubs

→ attends all of the meetings and has so many friends through them

→ I would be his friend too in college honestly

→ a fraternity wanted to get him bc he’s so good at sports

→ he declined bc he does not understand how fraternities even work

→ is the life of EVERY SINGLE PARTY change my mind you can’t

→ whatever you do don’t imagine nendo surprising his boyfriend with flowers after every practice

→ *dies cutely*

Kuboyasu Aren

→ SOCIOLOGY MAJOR

→ idk I just think he would enjoy Marx’s Capital

→ debate club? hell yeah

→ gets in philosophical conversations at the school yard for HOURS

→ kaidou has to drag him away

→ only shops at thrift stores and makes coffee at home bc “capitalism is not accepted in this household”

→ rides his motorcycle to college even though he lives five minutes away

→ grew his hair out in a mullet again and he looks *chef’s kiss*

→ thought he would be moving too fast if he asked Kaidou to rent an apartment together

→ aiura convinced him it was fine

→ cooks kaidou’s favorite foods every day

→ participates in student rallies, human rights protests etc etc

→ comes home with bruises and kaidou thinks he looks so hot but still yells at him

→ Aren’s favorite place to study is his balcony or at a coffee shop

→ always with kaidou! cute boyfriends who do everything together!!

→ gets so drunk when they go out

→ drunk karaoke with kokomi yes yes yes

Hairo Kineshi

→ did someone say Athletic Training?

→ does every single sport and is amazing at it

→ will cheer for his bf if they have a game at the same time though

→ it was his idea to move in together bc ‘hey we’ve been dating for three years now might as well’

→ volunteers at a nearby elementary as a coach for the kids

→ SO GOOD WITH KIDS

→ wants to be a P.E. Teacher and he’s going to be great at it

→ does everything he can at campus

→ helping random clubs, making posters, cleaning up the hallways, helping the cheer squad with their new routine

→ dances ballet as a hobby even though he’s so good at it that he could be a professional

→ makes everything a competition with Nendo so they never get bored

→ once made everyone get up to jog with them and they ended up sleeping on random benches while Hairo and Nendo were halfway across town

→ will punch someone if he sees them catcalling a girl

→ doesn’t drink at all and eats super healthy

→ designated driver for the group’s outings downtown

Aiura Mikoto

→ THEATER MAJOR

→ is so good at stage acting it’s unreal

→ lands the lead role almost every time

→ is also an amazing singer so she gets great roles in musicals as well

→ doesn’t have to get a job bc she gets all her money from doing readings on campus

→ gets coffees and pastries from all the coffee shops around campus and sits Kusuo down so he can taste them

→ they have a little taste-testing date in his apartment until they decide none of them are as good as the ones at Cafe Mami

→ she totally doesn’t make him teleport there every morning and he totally doesn’t listen to her

→ moved in with chiyo bc they wanted a nice place that they couldn’t afford on their own

→ teruhashi told them to move in with her but they already loved their little place

→ aiura’s bedroom is the most comfortable and cozy room ever

→ their apartment is also the hang out spot for the group bc it’s just so homey

→ hangs out with her theatre group a lot, especially after class

→ they can’t compare to her friends though:(

→ everyone goes to her when they’re worried and she loves it bc she’s the mummy of the group

→ she makes everyone coffee and their comfort food before big exams:)

Yumehara Chiyo

→ psychology major one thousand percent

→ you know how they say that people choose psychology bc they don’t know what major they want?

→ that’s exactly what happened except she fell in love with it immediately

→ such a good student!!!

→ always does her assignments on time and still manages to have a social life

→ teruhashi asked her out at the end of their first semester and that’s the first time chiyo missed a deadline

→ practically lives with teruhashi, insisting it’s just to leave aiura alone

→ she’s just IN LOVE OKAY?????

→ would want to be a sorority girl at first

→ changed her mind when she realized how much shit they all talked

→ her and kaidou drink wine and talk about their relationships and studies

→ she’s so sleep deprived it’s unreal

→ she doesn’t need sleep anymore though

→ coffee is her best friend

→ makes asks Aiura for readings twice a week

→ brings all her psychology friends home and they analyze their textbooks

→ once she got the hang of it, she decided to examine Kusuo

→ she told him he needs actual medical evaluation

→ he almost threw her out the window when she offered some Xanax for his nerves

→ chiyo is a neat freak one hundred percent

→ hates when Aiura throws everything on the floor, but she loves cleaning

→ opens her own office after school

Teruhashi Kokomi

→ PRE-MED

→ lesbian doctor :)

→ just wanted to get away from her perv brother at first

→ she always wanted to be a doctor though, preferably a neurosurgeon

→ she’s super duper smart and hates when she gets good grades bc of her good looks:(

→ makes it her goal to show her professors that she’s more than a beautiful girl

→ hasn’t failed a single exam

→ helps everyone with their studies even though she’s drowning in work

→ drops the perfect girl image at college and decides she should try and aim for something normal

→ gets invited to every single party

→ in a knitting club bc it would get disbanded without one more member

→ knits!!!matching!!!sweaters!!!for all of her friends!!!

→ asked Chiyopipi out while drunk

→ never regretted it though

→ her and aren get so drunk when they go out with the group

→ it’s honestly unreal how much they can drink before passing out

→ has to get carried home

→ wakes up after getting drunk and runs to her class before remembering it’s Sunday

→ her penthouse has the perfect view of the sunset and sunrise and is all she could ask for in life

→ does get lonely so she’s practically living with Chiyo and Aiura

→ once she realized she didn’t like boys she made it her goal to get Saiki and Aiura together

→ people wonder how she has so much time to play matchmaker and volunteer while she’s in premed

→ does her internship at a hospital

→ ends up working there as a neurosurgeon after her Doctorate degree

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

252 notes · View notes

stargaze-issei · 4 years ago

Text

— "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; when your father, the head of the japanese mafia, was killed, your childhood friend swore to protect you till his death. now, you're the empress of the underground world, and he doesn't know what's harder, to keep you safe or manage to hide his feelings. what will he do when, for the first time, your life's at risk and he isn't anywhere near?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mafia!au, angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; swearing, mentions of blood, guns, murder, kidnap, yk... mafia stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; lemme know if u want a part two bc i felt like it was getting too long and i don't know if anyone will read it or like it 👉🏻👈🏻

"where the fuck are you?" bakugou's voice stroke over the phone, noticeably angry. he had told you several times to never go anywhere without him, which you mostly did, if it weren't for him being away a lot of times. nothing less was expected from your right hand, who handled every dirty job, and considering your line of work, it wasn't scarce. but you did had other bodyguards, just as trained as katsuki, willing to give their lifes for you, which was extremely better than having bakugou giving his life.

to his eyes, you were still the little girl from before. he saw you as a someone who needed protection. at first, you agreed. your father was murdered, someone managed to get through all his security and killed him, none of the guns he and his security team carried around could protect him, killing you would be like stealing a sweet from a baby. bakugou had always kept you safe, despite his agressive usual safe, he cared about you more than he cared for himself. so you stuck to his side, believing, hoping, he'd die for you. but that was a long time ago, now, you could defend yourself, and had raised a sense of loyalty in your people by your own. your father's empire was based in fear, yours? by admiration. you didn't see your people as working ants, but as important parts of a whole. still, anyone who was a threat to you, bakugou made sure to erase them forever.

"don't talk to me like that, i'm your boss" you could feel him losing his shit, a smile began to form in your face. even when everyone respected you, he was still the same.

"you can't boss anyone if you're fucking dead, you dumb shit" a laugh came out of your throat, he couldn't avoid smiling at the sound "wait, oh, okay, i know we're you are. stay there, i'll be in three" he hung up before you could reply.

you looked back, at one of your guards who was just putting away his phone. of course they told him. why couldn't you go get your own coffee? being in the office all day was tiring, to be five minutes outside was all you asked for. a few seconds after, they handed you your coffee, obviously, a guard had to try it first, in case that barista wanted to suddenly murder you. of course he didn't.

"who let her go outside without me knowing, huh?" a furious katsuki appeared through the door, making a scene in the place. you gave him a warning look. if there was something you hated, was that. everyone in the area knew who you were, but why make it any more obvious. those people were just living their usual lifes, and people tend to get nervous around you. "the car is waiting outside" he understood, but you knew he was going to scold you anyways.

you walked outside, smiling, and got into the car, followed by katsuki and one of his subordinates, the other one got in the front sit, next to the driver.

"save it, i'm n–"

"the fuck you are" he cut you "your safety is my responsibility, if i say you can't go out without me, then you fucking don't. specially not when there are people after your head" there was no denying he was right, but still, it upset you.

"there's always people after my head, bakugou".

two weeks ago, two men went into your office. they were in charge of some dealing territories, though small, important. most contraband had to pass those places, you controlled those police departments making everything easier to your truck drivers. they were beaten, cover in blood and barely standing.

"our men, all of them... they all..." only one of them could talk, the other being too shocked to even look at you. "kazuhito's men, it was them... they said we had to tell you, they're coming after you" you couldn't show any fear in front of your so called soldiers, and your template remained at ease. a shout was enough to get those men the help they needed, after holding their hands, you promised to go see them once they were checked by doctors. you called bakugou as soon as they left, he was the first who should know and help you decide what to do next.

the kazuhito family had always been rivals, enemies of the worst kind. everyone suspect they were behind your father's assassination, but with no proof, even you knew it would be the biggest mistake to charge against them, despite your personal desires.

"i already told the drivers they had to take rout b for a while, but we can't let them just keep what's our" you explained to katsuki once he arrived. "those drugs have to get in town by us, damnit". it was clear how frustrated you were, those assholes had mess with your and your father's hardwork.

"if we retaliate, a war will unchain. your father tried to avoid that for years"

"and see how he ended up" bakugou didn't know if it was the anger, or you talking. "we will lose everyone's respect if we don't do something, they killed dozens of our people, katsuki".

he was trying hard to stay objective in that situation, but it was near impossible. a war would put you in more danger than ever, your life was at stake, and bakugou wasn't sure if he was willing to risk it. growing up by your side, your father taking him in when his parents died, you were his only family. more than that, he loved you. the only reason he was able to do his job right, was the fear of losing you. your head was already valued in millions, how could he protect you in the middle of a conflict, that would end only with your death or the kazuhito's leader's death? your power was bigger than theirs by little, but they did something that reckless, which meant they thought they had out powered you. had they? or were they just bluffing? had they miscalculated?.

"we're taking action, wether you support me or not" you looked into each other's eyes, you knew him enough to understand his fear, just not the reason behind it. your voice softened "but i'd much rather do it with you by my side".

"you're the boss" he spoke, already regretting it "i'll schedule a meeting so the high charges let everyone else know, i'm staying at your place so we can trace a plan".

and there you were now, being reprimanded by bakugou. he was extremely tired, he decided to stay with you until things were calmer, which could be several months from then. getting up at six a.m, going to sleep past midnight, being always looking for possible threats, it had given him bags under his eyes.

"i'm sorry" you said once you were alone with him, it was only then that you could let your guard down "i'm making this harder for you".

"yeah, you are. but it's my job, after all" that came out wrong, he thought. it wasn't his job, it was his fucking life purpose. he wanted you to live a long, happy life, as hard as it seemed.

"i guess it is" deep down, his response disappointed you.

"hey, look at me" out of nowhere, his body was insanely close to yours, you felt his breath in your face as he lifted your chin with his finger "there's nothing i wouldn't do for you, got that, dumbass?"

for a brief moment, the taste of his lips was all you could think about. i bet they're soft. but as fast as it started, it was over, katsuki pulled away harshly, inventing an excuse to leave. he had flown too close to the sun, so close that it burned his skin.

a few more people went to see you that day, asking for diverse permissions, advice and stuff like that. since it had been slow, compared to other times, you decided to home early. a call to your team, and the car was already outside. bakugou left instructions for your departure, because he had things to do somewhere else, much to his displeasure. you were accompanied by your escorts to the doors of the building, that seemed like a normal office compound. there were waiting two other guards, making a total of six people protecting you. way to go, bakugou.

"how's your wife, ryota?" you asked the driver. of course, not everyone fitted in the same car, so you got into the second one, middle seat, between a built up woman and a big man. you tried to remember everyone's name, but it was difficult.

"she's good, ma'am, sends her regards" he smiled at you over the mirror.

"and the baby? he must be a month old, right?" at the memory of his child, his face lightened "you should take some days off, i bet your wife and son miss you"

"i have a duty with you, m–" a loud impact interrupted him, the front glass had exploded. the car had an abrupt movement back and forward, all you could see was blood, everywhere.

the woman next to you took her gun out, in order to protect you , you thought, completely wrong. before everyone could react to her act, she shot the guard in front of you. you looked at your side, searching for someone alive, the same bullet that had killed ryota was in the guard's at your right forehead. besides you , the only other person was that woman. if she hadn't glasses on, that stare could've seen throughout your soul. then you remembered, katsuki made you bare with a knife under your sleeve. with a weird move, you felt its sharpness against your skin, it was there, but she read you like a book. before you could even pull it out, another shot stroke followed by a intense pain in you thight. the bitch had shot you. you blamed it on the adrenaline, because nothing hurt. what happened after was a couple of blurry images in your memory.

bakugou had called you more than a hundred times, you, the drivers, the guards, everyone in his fucking team, but no one knew anything. the cameras at your house never showed you arriving, your phone's location was off. he was out of his head, if he didn't hear from you in the next five minutes, someone's going to die. he rushed into his car, following your rout at a dangerous speed.

both cars were full of bullet holes, and every guard he had hired was dead. there wasn't a place without blood. tears of pure rage came to his eyes, fuck, it was his fault. he started to look for you, but the whole world was spinning around him. where were you? where was your body? were you alive?, this couldn't be happening. he had left you unprotected, alone, and now you could be dead, because of his uselessness. his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"sir, we– we have– the kazuhito's are here" he left as fast as he came. they had touch you, they had taken you away from him, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it, even if he had to go against a whole army, whoever was behind it all was going to pay.

a man in a suit was sitting in the chair of your office, smoking a cigarette, as calm as a rock. katsuki was so close to rip his head of right there, that somebody had to hold him down. his own people updated him, saying that he had gone into the building alone, with no weapons of any kind, not even a cellphone.

"where the fuck is she?" he crashed his hand against the desk.

"ah, mr. bakugou, please take a se–"

"tell me where she is right now if you want to keep your head, fucking bastard" his hand had wondered to the tip of the gun in his belt, menacing to blow up at any second.

"you won't do that, mr., if i don't return to my people in one hour, she'll be so fucked up that not even you will recognize her" a laugh surge grom bakugou, a dark, cold laugh.

"i don't have to kill you, then" one of the man's hand rested in the desk, like asking for katsuki to rip it off his body. as you did, he also carried knifes under his shirt. in less than a second, one of them was buried into the man's hand. he screamed, both in shock and pain, giving your bodyguard a hatred look. "what do you want, shitface?"

"i-it's quite simple, actually" his face was white as paper, and even though he wanted to talk normally, his voice shivered "we want you to take over the y/l/n's business, under our command of course" he let out a sigh, trying to keep his composure and ignoring his bleeding hand "if you– if you agree, she will have to leave japan and never..."

bakugou won't agree to that. not now and not ever. to give away what you and your father built from scratch, and spent decades keeping safe, was like killing your child, and your father's memory. to send you away, alone, where he most likely won't see you again in years, was also off the table. it wasn't funny anymore. he started walking around the man's chair, picking up his sleeves. he checked the clock in the office, he had forty-five minutes with the man, meaning, forty-five minutes to make him talk. he ressourced to every fast interrogation method he knew. the people outside the door weren't surprised when they heard the man's screams, even wondering what had taken so long for the boss to start acting. katsuki was never a patient man. his senses were blocked, he couldn't hear anything but screams and begging, all his eyes could see was pain through all the man's body, his hands felt nothing but warm blood. but for the first time in a while, he wasn't enjoying it. he was doing it out of need, the need to save you. every minute that went by, was a minute were your life risked. he never felt so close to losing his sanity.

"outside the city! she's in one of our safe houses outside the city! i don't know which, please stop!" ten minutes before the timeline he finally gave up. your intelligence had all their safe houses, storages, garages, every location needed. not a second passed when one of yours men delivered a map with all the points marked. there were five in total.

"throw him outside in ten minutes" he shouted, walking to the armory "two teams, six people each, my fucking people, hear me? now, dammit! we're leaving in a minute, if i have to go by my fucking self, i'll do it"

when he was armed to the teeth, almost a dozen of people followed him outside. they were his most trusted men and women, being trained together, he knew they were as skilled as him, and they were all willing to put their life's at stake for you, their boss. in the car, bakugou barked the instructions. he had narrowed it down to two possible locations with all the information he had. if they had to kill every person in those places, then be it. he's going to get you back.

409 notes · View notes

sideofmango · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do HCs of Shinsou, Amajiki, Bakugo; teen!Aizawa with a South African s/o who has people saying some annoying comments to her just bc she's from Africa. Like someone says that they're sorry that she struggled with poverty (girl is from a super wealthy family that can buy their family), or say some gibberish with clicks and asks her to translate (s/o can speak five languages: English, Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans, and Japanese; understand others. Xhosa has clicks). They ask her if she had...

cont’d request: Pt.II - to hunt for her food (Umm, no. Cape Town has supermarkets and she knows what pizza and Japanese food is, guys). Someone just can't believe that South Africa has TV and internet, while s/o literally has a cell phone with all of the social media and has friends/family from South Africa. When class is over, someone asks why isn't she wearing "African" clothes (bc Africa is country, not a continent) when s/o is just wearing basic clothes. People be stupid.

“Don’t Be Stupid” - Headcannon for Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, and teen!Aizawa

Hey! Thanks for requesting! Hope this is okay :)

Pairings: Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, teen!Aizawa x reader Pronouns: she/her Warnings: ignorance, cursing

Hitoshi didn’t really give a flying fuck about what others thought, mainly because most of the time people didn’t even want to be around him because of his “villain quirk”

But just because he didn’t care what they thought about him, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t fuck somebody up if they messed with you

Shinsou is a quiet guy for the most part, but he was super perceptive

So when he heard that the little ballsack haired toddler from class 1-A was spreading rumors about you, he was angry

You had no problem explaining to people about your home country of South Africa, especially if they asked nicely

But one day when you were walking past Class 1-A when school had just ended, intent on meeting your boyfriend outside to go walk to the park together, you heard Mineta spewing shit about you and South Africa

“Yeah they’re a bunch of savages over there! They literally hunt for food with spears and everyone is poor and they use goats as money.” Mineta said

You stood by the door to see what they were going to say before you chimed in and told them what South Africa was actually like.

“Mineta that’s literally cap and you know it.” Kaminari chimed in with a roll of his eyes.

He had been spending so much time around you and Shinsou that he started even using your slang unconsciously.

It made you smile a bit.

“Kaminari you’re dumb as rocks. How would you know?” Mineta defended himself.

“Anyways, apparently because they’re so poor they steal a lot too. Maybe that’s why my jacket went missing after I was around (y/n)...Like I said they’re a bunch of savages, she probably doesn’t know any better.”

Now it was time for you to chime in.

“Why the fuck would I want your ratty ass jacket anyway? I don’t steal and that’s not what South Africa is like. Denki knows because I told him about it. I’m not poor, I just don’t flaunt my wealth, and if you really want to know I could buy your entire family with my own net worth.” You remarked, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

Bakugou sat in the corner watching the whole exchange with a small smirk on his face...he enjoyed confrontation too much.

“Oh and we do have supermarkets where we buy our food from.” You add as an after thought. “If you wanted to know about South Africa, you should’ve just asked like a normal person instead of spewing shit. Have a nice day.” You left the classroom after that a smile growing on your face as you heard Kaminari and Kirishima scold Mineta for talking shit behind your back.

Yeah...that was the last time he did that because after Shinsou heard what happened he found Mineta the next day and threatened him so bad he peed his diaper.

Tamaki was a pretty reserved guy and when you two began dating it surprised mostly everyone because you two were so different

Honestly, Tamaki literally looked at you like a goddess and it annoyed him when people were just plain ignorant

Usually when he was annoyed he would rant to you about it or Mirio or Nejire, and then he would go sit in a corner blushing about how he feared he was oversharing

PLS HE’S SO CUTE

um...N E WAYS...

You had been a transfer into the class when they were second years after your father decided to expand his international company to Japan, meaning you had to leave your home in South Africa

You were upset at first but you quickly made friends with the Big Three and Leonardo Subarashi, who was also from South Africa.

So it came as a surprise when one of your friends, Tsuki Vinsmoke started talking shit about your homeland even when two of her friends were from there

“They literally live in huts with dirt floors. Maybe that’s why they’re so dirty and poor.” Tsuki laughed with two of her bitch friends, standing right near you

You turned to look at her with a frown on your face, practically daring her to say something else.

“I don’t even know how those two got here. They don’t even have phone service over there.”

“Hey (y/n)?” She said a little louder, as you turned around again, placing your pencil down and momentarily ignoring your school work.

“What Tsuki?”

“Why don’t you wear African clothes? Like those weird scarves and cloths or whatever? Are you ashamed that you came from dirt poor people? I would be.” Tsuki wore a nasty smile on her face as her eyes seemed to sparkle with malice.

“There’s no such thing as African clothes Tsuki. People wear the same clothes here that they do in South Africa...why would I be ashamed of such a culturally rich homeland? I’m proud to be South African, and besides I’d suggest you do some research before you start talking to me about being poor, especially since I’m way richer than you.” You gave a fake sincere smile before glancing over at Tamaki and your friends who gave you a thumbs up as if to say Destroy her.

So you did...in the end you got sent to Principal Nezu’s office after you made her cry and she lied to your teacher saying you had threatened her life like a dirty savage

Tamaki had to hold you back with some help from Mirio before you decked her

Nezu didn’t really care and gave you a donut from the order that had been in his office before sending you back to class

Needless to say, Tsuki got suspended for being racist and perpetuating a hateful environment in the classroom and nobody else messed with you, not even her little friends who sucked up to you after Tsuki went on suspension.

Why would anyone even bother saying stupid shit about you when you were just as hot headed as your explosive boyfriend? I don’t know, but they did

Of course everyone from class 1-A was smart enough not to start anything, but it seems Monoma wasn’t as smart

The annoying overly entitled blonde from class 1-B, had started out by asking you simple questions about your homeland, things like:

“What’s it like there?”, “Is it always sunny?”, “Have you seen a rhino or lion before?”

Then they started getting kind of ignorant and annoying.

“Hey (y/n)? Can you speak African?”

“No Monoma because Africa is a continent made up of many countries, each with their own languages.” You explained, wasn’t he supposed to be smart? “What are you doing Monoma?” You asked, with a raised eyebrow as he started to make strange noises at you.

“Shit for Brains, leave us the fuck alone.” Bakugou grumbled from beside you after he finished chewing his food.

“It’s you language right? Can you understand what I said?”

“No dumbfuck. You sounded like a dolphin.” You remarked as a few of your friends laughed lightly.

“I’m surprised you understand...I heard your people aren’t very smart...you know products of their environment, it’s unfortunate really. I’m sorry that you lived in such poverty, but you should consider yourself lucky, now you get to live in dorms and sleep in a real bed and not on a dirt floor.” Monoma went on and on and you were growing increasingly annoyed as you friends sat there in shocked silence.

“You know what Monoma?” You said with a fake smile as you spun around. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and stupid as you. I’m not poor and I never was, I slept in a real bed with an actually comfortable mattress unlike the ones here, and I much smarter than you ever will be I speak five fucking languages and I can understand more than that in others. Would you like me to tell you to fuck off in another language since you can’t seem to understand Japanese?” You asked as you raised your eyebrows with your arms crossed over your chest, as if waiting for his answer.

He stayed silent.

“That’s what I thought. Maybe you are smart after all?” You added teasingly, watching him be dragged back to his table by Kendo.

Shota Aizawa never really had many friends, usually more laidback than others were comfortable with, but the ones he did have were the complete opposites of him

Hizashi and Shirakumo were loud pranksters, while you and Midnight were talkative and enjoyed messing with him.

Most of the time he ignored the pigheaded bully that was Sensoji, because he usually only picked on Shota, but when Sensoji realized that you were Aizawa’s real weakness, he started to hound you.

And Shota was NOT having that

It all came to a head after he battled against Shota during a training session.

“Your useless just like your quirk Aizawa.” Sensoji sneered at your boyfriend, glaring down at him.

“Your nothing but a waste of space.” Sensoji added seeing the way that his insults didn’t really phase Shota.

“Hey leave him alone! What is wrong with you!” You intervened pushing the broad shouldered boy away from Shota.

“What are you that weak that you need your little safari ass backwoods girlfriend to save your ass?” Sensoji laughed along with one of his equally stupid Class 1-B classmates.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” Shota yelled back, his eyes glowing as if it was a warning.

“Or what? It’s not like she’ll understand? People like her back in her country of Africa are stupid as fuck. They build their homes out of oversized tin cans and they don’t even have phones.”

“Sensoji you’re the stupid one! Africa is... A CONTINENT NOT A COUNTRY!” Hizashi jumped in, activating his quirk halfway through his sentence.

“And they don’t live in tin cans.” Midnight added.

“I live in a nice home, one that’s probably bigger than yours. Just admit that you’re jealous of Shota and me and move on!” You pressed your finger into his chest on each word, glaring at him as if to say say something else and see what happens.

“Grow up!” Shota and Shirakumo added before Sensoji rushed away when he saw the teachers coming over to see what you all were arguing about.

“Yeah that’s what I thought! Run away like a little bitch!” You added with a growing smile.

“Language (y/n)!” Your teacher scolded, but even that couldn’t bring down your smile as you, your boyfriend, and your friends laughed about the incident.

You all still even joked about it years later.

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #requested #headcannons #bnha #south african reader #shinsou x reader #tamaki x reader #bakugou x reader #teen!aizawa #bnha x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #I'm sorry about always clowing Mineta but he makes it too fucking easy #sorry but not really that sorry #bnha x reader

153 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years ago

Note

Did you see that post floating around about the couple who were dating before they started at an office but didn't tell anyone and everyone kept calling them Jim and Pam and trying to convince them they should date bc they were friendly with each other??? Yeah, you should write that for CS

Nonnie, I did not see it floating around because I, well, don’t really check my feed, but @shireness-says did send it to me to write last night. Then you did too, and it seemed like I had to write a little something!

original post | here |

on ao3 | here |

-/-

This is a bullshit job.

Okay, it’s not, and Emma knows it. It’s a job that’s getting her insurance and enabling her to pay her bills after she lost her last job due to her asshole boss’s gambling problems that burned Queen’s Bail Bonds to the ground. Figuratively, not literally, but Emma really wanted to literally burn it down when it meant she was out of a job. And none of the other bail bonds places in town would hire her because Regina burned a bridge with anyone and everyone she could since she is the actual worst and made enemies with anyone who challenged her. Emma doesn’t exactly have much of an education and has a history that’s a little less than pretty, so after eating three saltine crackers for dinner and considering selling her car for grocery money, she bit the bullet and started applying for office jobs that have always seemed like her worst nightmare.

So, that’s how she got here, sitting in a closed off part of Mass General with no windows and possible mold with a stack of files bigger than her that she’s having to put in the computer because they’re going digital. She’s never thought about medical files before and has assumed they’ve always been digital, but the entire department full of filing cabinets says otherwise.

She’s probably going to be vitamin D deficient by the time she finds another job.

Really, it’s fine. It’s not all that bad. She likes her coworkers, and most days she can listen to music all day and get lost in the repetitiveness of her job. Today Emma’s a little cranky because her car wouldn’t crank this morning, and she should have sold that piece of junk when she had the chance last month.

Spinning in her chair, Emma pops an earphone out and looks across her desk where Mary Margaret and Ruby are talking. They both work in Community Outreach, which is an entirely different department up in the land of people and windows, but their boss sent them to help with the digitization because the hospital realized the temps they hired would take at least six months to do all the work if left to their own devices. Emma wouldn’t mind that, no matter how much she sometimes hates it, because it would mean she has a few more months to figure her shit out.

“Morning, Swan.” Emma groans and leans back in her chair, the wheels squeaking underneath her. Killian stops by her desk, taking a peppermint out of the bowl in the corner, and pops it in his mouth. He’s far too peppy this morning, and she just knows he went for a run this morning and then spent an unnecessary amount of time fixing his hair to give it that disheveled look. She doesn’t understand morning exercise people. They may not be people at all. “How are you today?”

“Exhausted.”

“What? No sleep last night?”

“Only a little.” She shrugs and holds her hand out. He tosses her a new peppermint, and she quickly unwraps it, the mint soothing her throat. The cold weather outside always dries out her throat, and having to walk to work this morning did not help. “My car wouldn’t start this morning, so I think I’m exhausted from walking here and knowing I’m probably going to be out of a car.”

His eyes glance up and down her, lips pressed into a firm line, and she expects him to make a joke that will have her rolling her eyes. Instead, he leans over her desk and presses his cheek to his palm, blinking slowly. “Do you need a ride home? I can give you one after work.”

“I can walk.”

“Swan. It’s no problem.”

Emma sighs and leans back, running her tongue against the peppermint. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t. Pick you up at five thirty?”

“See you then.”

Killian knocks his knuckles against the wood and flashes her a smile, walking away from her desk and down the hallway to the IT department, where he’ll spend the rest of the day answering calls from elderly doctors who don’t know how to log into their patient portal. Emma watches him walk away, knowing he won’t notice. Winter in Boston may be hell, but it does have benefits, such as the way Killian owns several fitted sweaters that hug his biceps. There are few perks to this job, and even though there are no windows, there are sometimes views.

When he disappears around the corner, Emma goes back to her files, typing in more patient information, when she hears Mary Margaret and Ruby rise from their chairs, heels clicking against the tile. They’ve got Cheshire Cat grins on their faces, every tooth showing, and if Emma ignores them, maybe they’ll go away.

She knows better than to hope for impossible things.

“So,” Ruby starts, incessantly tapping a pen against the desk to make Emma look up. Her desk has one of those tall, barrier-type things around the top because it’s an old secretary’s desk, which is great for hiding out. The problem is that people know to look for her now, and when they do, there’s no way for her to escape unless she wants to roll right out of the room. “He’s taking you home, offering you a ride.”

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret hisses, “don’t say it like that!”

“Why not? That’s what could happen! He takes her home, she invites him inside for some coffee to thank him, and then one thing leads to another…bam! They’re going at it on her couch!”

“Emma is going to file a complaint with HR about you.”

“If it gets she and Jones together, it’ll be worth it. I mean, come on. They’re adorable, and my God, the sexual tension makes me need some water to cool down.”

“Do you guys have anything new to say or is it going to be more trying to convince me to date the IT guy who walks in here to steal our peppermints and fix our computers when they break down three times a day?” Emma asks, half pretending to still be working.

Ruby and Mary Margaret stop looking at each other and look at her, brows to their foreheads and smiles slipping away more and more each second. “He comes in here to flirt, and you know it.”

Emma shrugs and grabs another peppermint. “He’s a friendly guy, easy to talk to, likes peppermints. I have peppermints.”

“Oh my God,” Ruby groans, dropping her head to the desk. “You’re killing me. Absolutely killing me.”

“You know, Emma, there’s no rule against office romances,” Mary Margaret suggests. “I think you should give it a shot.”

Emma rolls her eyes and keeps typing in patient information. “Maybe I will, but maybe I’m not going to ask him out until my time here is up just to torture the both of you.”

She has no intention of asking him out, but they don’t have to know that.

They gasp, and Emma knows she’s won this round. It doesn’t matter, though, because they’ll be back at her desk to have this conversation again after the next few times Killian walks through the office. And he does walk through the office at least seven more times that day. He has to fix her computer, then Ruby’s, and then there’s a near catastrophe where the digital filing system shuts down. Another time he comes in before lunch, asking everyone in the office if they’d like anything from the hospital deli, and then he comes back with salads for everyone, eating with the three of them and Jeff from IT. Once more he comes in for a peppermint, saying he just couldn’t have his breath smell any longer, but he stays and chats for fifteen minutes about a new ice skating rink he’s thinking of taking his friend Rob’s kid to. He suggests Emma should check it out, and then Ruby makes a sexual joke about ice skating, which is something Emma didn’t even know could be sexual if you weren’t a professional who could do all those lifts and dances or whatever. Emma is fit, but she couldn’t do that.

Finally, he comes into the office a little before five thirty, his car keys in hand, and Emma grabs her things and walks with him out of the office and back up into sunlight, which she forgot existed. She’ll barely get to see any of it, however, because it’s December and the sun basically sets at noon.

She is definitely going to have a vitamin D deficiency soon. Maybe she should start taking vitamins.

She and Killian talk about their days during the ride to her apartment, but mostly Emma sits in silence and listens to the radio, letting her eyes rest from staring at small print and a computer screen all day. It’s an adjustment for her to work regular hours, and all she wants now is to consume an entire pizza and have a large glass of wine.

Or two. Two large glasses of wine sound good.

When Emma opens her eyes, Killian is parked outside her building, his car idling, and she blinks herself away, undoing her seatbelt and sitting up. “Thank you for the ride, Jones.”

“Not a problem, love.”

She twists to the side, looking at him, and thinks of what Ruby and Mary Margaret said earlier.. “You want to come in for some coffee?”

“You know I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I have caffeine this late.”

Emma shrugs and leans over the console to press her lips to his, lingering as Killian’s hand comes to cup her cheek, his fingers threading through her ponytail as he tugs her closer. He tastes like peppermint, and it makes Emma smile.

“I know,” Emma sighs, pressing her forehead to his. “But I need coffee if I’m going to stay up until a normal hour, and I need to deal with my car tonight. Do you think it’s a goner?”

Killian pinches his brows and kisses her again, his tongue teasing her bottom lip, but he pulls back and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for his real answer, even if she already knows. “I think we can look at it, have a mechanic look at it, and then look at it again when you disagree with the mechanic, but I think it may be time to lay the bug to rest. It had a good run, and I will always hold dear the memory of you nearly hitting me with it.”

“You can’t say I don’t make a great first impression.” She laughs at the memory and the way Killian had told her to go fuck herself, but quickly her heart drops and she groans, wondering how many curses she can mutter in a thirty-second time frame. Probably not as many as Killian did that day. The British know how to curse. “I don’t have the money for a new car. What am I going to do?”

“I can take you to work. We’re going to be at the same place for at least another month or so. And who knows? Maybe you’ll get another job at the hospital. And if not, I can still take you to work and pick you up. We’ve been sleeping at each other’s places most nights anyway. If you don’t want that, there are several different public transportation options. But I think Mary Margaret and Ruby would die if I took you to work in the morning.”

He waggles his brows and smirks, leaning into her, and Emma can’t help the smile that creeps up on her. They didn't want it to be a thing that they were dating because Emma wanted to get the job on her own, so they never told anyone. “They would actually die. I mean, seriously. They told me I should invite you up for coffee and then ride you on my couch, and you know, that doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.”

“Well, I would have been up for that even without the coffee invitation, love.”

“That a double entendre?”

“Of course.” He reaches over and grabs her hand, threading their fingers together. “When do you think you’re going to tell them we started dating months before you started at the hospital?”

Emma shrugs and leans back, smiling. “Eh, I think one day we should walk in holding hands and let them think it’s new.”

“Tomorrow? I could give you a mark on your collarbone to really drive them crazy.”

“Absolutely not, but nice try buddy.” She nods her head toward the building. “Come inside with me and let’s get dinner. Pizza sound good?”

“Pizza sounds fantastic, love.”

-/-

They walk inside holding hands a month later, and Mary Margaret stumbles while Ruby drops her coffee over her computer’s keyboard. Killian is the one who fixes it, and Ruby is still so shocked she can’t interrogate him while he works.

Emma has a feeling Ruby Lucas has never been shocked silent, and Emma can barely hold in her laughter.

She never does tell them how long she and Killian were dating. She doesn’t think their computers could take it.

-/-

She does find them in their office a year later, though, when they’re back in Community Outreach and she’s working in the conference center – which has windows! – and shows them the ring on her finger.

Ruby, thankfully, didn’t have any coffee in her hands.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #office antics #Anonymous

73 notes · View notes

hwanuels · 5 years ago

Text

n.jm: where are you?

summary: jaemin is just a little (very) misunderstood

pairing: highschool!fboi!jaemin x fem!reader

note: gUESS WHOSE BACK IN TOWN?!?!?!? y’all already know the routine: poor grammar, crackheads, a fuck ton of cursing i think, and drug references (*coughs* stoner-boi!haechan *coughs*). this isn’t the last part so theres def gonna be a part three, i just have too much to write for jaemin and i don’t wanna rush things too much, but i also don’t wanna leave you all hanging. so enjoy. but also make sure to read part one first so you can be in the know~

“because she knew that i was in love with you”

it took you a good m i n u t e to register jaemin’s words, not that you even comprehended the weight of his words either.

you didn’t know how to respond so like a normal person you started laughing awkwardly to ease the tension, “you’re joking right?”

he hAD to be bc there was no way in hell that the biggest fuckboy of the whole school, na jaemin once harbored a one-sided love for you, right?

a small flash of hurt flashed across jaemin’s eyes that you couldn’t catch since his whole demeanor immediately brighten u again and one of his signature playful smiles on was back on his face.

.“i can’t ever fool you can i?” he chuckled shaking his head.

“no but seriously, why didn’t you go to hoco sophomore year? you were supposed to be hoco royalty with ella,” you picked at the melting ice cream.

jaemin shrugged, “maybe i just didn’t feel like it.”

he seems so nonchalant on the outside, but on the inside, na jaemin is thinking of 1001 ways to disappear off the face of the earth.

what did he expect in the first place? that you would just accept his belated confession that quickly?

but he’s now big s a d, but he ain't going let that show. no, no, no, it ruins his go-with-the-flow personality and the “playboy” role everyone put him in.

“do you have something to do after school tomorrow?” jaemin asked once the two had finished your sundae and the two of you were waiting for your ride to come to pick you up.

you shook your head at his question, knowing that haechan would mostly like ditch your afterschool hang out to get high with mark or chill at that one girl's house

“why?” you asked.

“how about we hang out then?” jaemin asked so casually. he was just that good at hiding his real feels

“can i ask why you’re suddenly trying to hang out with me more often? its weird” you say back, not like the feeling that was bubbling in your throat. was he trying to mess around with you? did he run out of girls to play with?

jaemin pouted slightly, ‘i’m simply trying to reconnect with my old friend. besides, i need help with the prom decorations and since you already finished it, you should know how to do them quickly.”

“i’ll see” is all you say.

and you leave, not knowing what you did to his poor little heart.

poor jaemin got ghosted bc you never reached out to him in the days to follow to “hang out”. the two of you would make eye contact at school, but you always quickly looked away.

:( x 10

it wasn’t that jaemin was shock by your cold treatment, but he was holding onto the hope that you didn’t see him as na jaemin the resident fuckboi, but as na jaemin the boy who was once the prince to your little princess. except jaemin knew very well that this isn’t a fairy tale, just cruel reality.

life is a little bitch and it was messing him the fuck up!

however, na jaemin is a coward and he knows this.

which is why he feels more comfortable when he’s surrounded by others wearing the mask that was carefully crafted for him than when he’s all by himself.

bc when’s he completely alone, when no one is around, he’s left with no one but himself.

the one person he hates the most in the world.

when did it begin?

when did he care more about what others think than what he thought? when did he begin to follow the crowd?

when did he lose himself?

maybe it began around sophomore year, when he first agreed to date ella. something that he wouldn’t have agreed to if it weren’t for you asking that of him.

he could never say no to you. the one who held his heart in the palm of his hands.

did he ever like ella?

he tried to, but it was kinda hard when the only reason why he said yes to her confession was to make you happy. he remembered the way your eyes lit up in happiness as he and ella broke the news to you

you looked like the happiest girl in the world and he felt his heart race at the sight, but not when ella confess to him.

it was useless pining, he knew that. you only saw him as a close friend and especially now that he was with your bestfriend.

that was why he tried soooooo hard to get himself to feel things for ella.

he spent most of his time with her, even ditching his homie student-athlete!jeno (who he often found himself feeling jealous of when he found out that jeno crashed at your house to have a movie marathon with you multiple times)

but he just couldn’t feel anything for ella. so he began to lie.

the first time he lied, it ate him up inside. the simple three words, eight letters phrase was hard to say when you don’t actually mean it.

but as jaemin found himself repeating the lie over and over again, the guilt that was always lingering in the back of his mind slowly went away until he had gotten used to it.

it became natural for him to lie.

to everyone and to himself

people always told him that it must be nice having a face like his, but every time he looked in the mirror, he felt nothing but hatred for the person staring back at him.

at school, he did nothing but play the charming guy that everyone saw him as. he did things that would please the crowd and he felt good when they responded the way he wanted. he overlooked things that he once thought was wrong just to be in good graces with the others.

when donghyuck had his little altercation with jeno, jaemin never felt more jealous in his life. donghyuck chose to be himself, he broke free of the mold that everyone fit him in. he had the courage that jaemin doesn’t

if someone told him to take off his persona, he wouldn’t know what to do. he’s lived this way for so long that he had forgotten who he really was. what he really wanted in life. what truly made him happy.

was he even happy? jaemin didn’t know.

which is why he didn’t know what to do when he overheard ella’s conversation with one of her other friends.

“do we really have to invite y/n too? i don’t want her do come with us to hoco. she’s such a party pooper.”

“i don’t want to either, but i’m only keeping her around because she’s the reason why i’m with jaemin in the first place.”

“isn’t weird that the two of them have been close friends for a while and she hasn’t had any feeling for him?”

“she did,” he hears ella admit. “until i told her that i liked jaemin and then she totally dropped him like that for me.”

“she’s kind of annoying though, always hanging around the two of you. she’s kinda clingy too, no one even likes her in our group.”

“just deal with her for now and we can ice her out later.”

FAKE BITCHES

anyways, jaemin didn’t know what to do so he walked away and pretended that he didn’t hear the conversation. but there's only so much he can just ignore, and this is one of them.

the familiar guilt comes crawling up every time he sees you, smiling with the people that called themselves your “friends”.

it doesn’t take long for jaemin to come to the realization that he’s surrounded by liars. and enough is enough.

well, he still has an image to maintain.

so he chose to break up with ella and actually tell the truth for once, but only to her. to be honest, the truth was kinda forced to come out by itself.

“what do you mean that you’re not going?” he hears ella’s frantic voice and the music playing in the background. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do the breaking up part the night of homecoming.

good work, jaemin.

“i don’t think that this is going to work between us. i’m sorry”

was he really?

“but you said that you loved me!”

that was just a lie. he thought to himself. “i just don’t feel the same anymore, ella, please understand.” i never did.

“it’s because of her isn’t it? you’ve been in love with y/n this whole time haven’t you?” and jaemin’s blood runs cold.

the music was gone, so ella must have gone to a more quieter, private place.

“i’m not blind jaemin. the way you looked at her, the way you always find yourself next to her; i saw it all,” ella begins “i knew ever since you said yes to me.”

“then why didn’t you say anything? you just let me lie to you like that?”

“lying is the best solution, jaemin, you should know that the best.”

lying is bad kids, don’t do - admin minnie

jaemin could already feel the backlash he was going to receive. he spent the entire hoco night at home preparing himself for the shit that was going to go down the next day at school.

except nothing happened to him.

you had received the hatred, the eyeing, the whispers. you were the one that was iced out, outcasted, not jaemin.

jaemin was too afraid for the same thing happening to him, so he turned his head the other way.

“i just don’t understand why everyone is giving y/n the silent treatment. why are they mad at her? what did she do?” jaemin shrugs at jeno’s angry rant.

jeno had the right to be mad, you were dragged in to be jaemin’s scapegoat.

“and why did you break up with ella anyways? i thought everything was going good?”

“i was bored.”

it was pure irony and the biggest bitch slap in jaemin’s face that you had befriended lee donghyuck, the one person that he envied so wholeheartedly.

jaemin couldn’t do anything, no, he didn’t want to do anything he didn’t want to step out of the little safety persona that he created for himself. he didn’t want to lose all the people that surrounded him. he doesn’t want to be alone.

he hates being alone.

he’ll much rather take on the role of the fuckboy that he hates so much if that meant that people would still stick around him.

which brings him to his current dilemma

“i don’t see why you don’t just put up the image and just go with ella to hoco,” art-hoe!renjun says as the two of them walk to english “the two of you are both going to be king and queen anyways, just go.”

“maybe,” jaemin says, eliciting in a pointed glare from renjun

“you can’t just ditch prom just because of her, this the last year and are you really going to go down as the prom king that didn’t show up to prom?”

“i won’t win for sure, so there's really no point in me going,” jaemin replies

renjun rolls his eyes, and he taps a random passing student on the shoulder, “who do you think is going to win prom royalty this year?” he asks the stranger.

without missing a beat, the student replies, “jaemin and ella, why?”

and renjun’s face is the exact embodiment of i-told-you-so

instead of that motivating jaemin to actually go, it actually made him WANT to skip out on the event even more

“y/n ask to me to ask you if you gave ella all of the decorations for prom or something like that,” jeno tells him at lunch, causing jaemin’s eyes to drift over to you and haechan.

he wonders what the two of you are talking about that has you smiling that hard. he wonders what haechan has that he doesn't.

maybe its his natural-born charisma? not the artificial type that jaemin has mastered the act of.

“earth to jaemin,” jeno waves a hand in front of his friend’s face.

“sorry, yeah, i’m turning it in after school,” he replies, eyes lingering on you for one more second before focusing on the food on his tray, “besides, she could have asked me directly.”

“she had dinner at my house last night,” jeno replies, “what’s got your panties in a twist anyway?”

“not all of us is about to confess our feelings to our puppy crush, lover boy,” renjun pipes in.

jeno’s ears turn a tinge of pink, but jaemin wasn't focused on that.

and jeno might be a bit slow academically, but jaemin is his best buddy, his platonic soulmate.something was up.

“you have three seconds to spill before i will actually expose where you were hoco sophomore year to y/n” jeno threatens

“tell her, it’s not going to make a difference anyways,” jaemin pokes at his food “she has no interest in me what’s so over. i’m just another one of those fuckboys in her eyes.”

jeno and renjun share a look, before renjun decides to break the news to jaemin

“you haven’t been talking to her lately right?” renjun starts and jaemin nods

“the last time we talk was two weeks ago,” jaemin replies “she doesn’t have any other reason to interact with me like she does with jeno”

“before we continue with this conversation, can the green-eyed monster please leave the room?” renjun takes a small jab at jaemin.

“i’m not jealous,” jaemin looks up with an irked glare at renjun.

“then did you really need to mention jeno?” renjun returns the look with an annoyed expression of his own

jaemin scoffs, “you don’t understand, so don’t say anything,”

“tell me what i don’t understand then? because right now i have feeling the only reason you’re so pent up and annoyed is that you’re jealous, jaemin.”

“shut up,” jaemin snaps. “i’m not jealous.”

smiley and easy-going jaemin is gone out the door. everything coming out of renjun’s mouth is making him angrier and angrier and jaemin didn’t even know why.

renjun was speaking the truth. jaemin was jealous, but was he going to admit that?

nope

“it’s okay to be jealous,” jeno says, meaning to ease the slowly growing tension, but jeno’s attempts to mediate the conversation made jaemin even madder.

“can the two get the fuck off my case and leave me alone? i’m not jealous so stop acting like you know how i feel,” jaemin clenches his jaw “it’s really fucking annoying.”

“oh really now?” renjun fires back “it’s really fucking annoying how you expect the two of us to have your back, which we always do, and be fully okay with you going around town acting like a man whore and then being prissy about how the girl you’re interested in this time isn’t interested in you. this isn’t some type of cliche teen romance movie jaemin, grow a pair and deal with it.”

“so you think i’m a man whore too?” jaemin says sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “nice to know that my best friends think so highly of me.”

“jaemin, you know he doesn’t mean it like that,” jeno says.

“then what? it seems to me that you guys have been having a blast talking behind my back and lying about it to my face.”

“when did we say that?” jeno’s eyebrows furrow.

“you don’t need to say it for me to know,” jaemin spits “it’s written all over your faces.”

“i’m done,” renjun stands up, “when you’re ready to grow the fuck up and stop being a fucking dick bag, then find me.”

jaemin doesn’t even bother watching renjun leaving the table, anger was still consuming him. was it anger or frustration?

there was scream lodged in his throat that he wanted to release to the world. a pained scream of helplessness.

“hey jaemin,” jeno has a hard look on his face. he too stands up and leaves with some hard-hitting words, “learn to get over that ridiculously big ego of yours. not everything is about you.”

and jaemin is left at the lunch table

alone

fuck, he thinks to himself. fuck everything.

yeah, no way in hell was jaemin going to prom. no fucking way.

“looks like there’s trouble in paradise,” haechan gestures with his head to the table, near the center.

jaemin’s table, except, it’s literally only jaemin sitting there.

out of the corner of your eyes, you could see and angry renjun followed by an equally ticked of jeno stalking off.

“looks like the pretty boy is left by himself,” haechan remarks. “i wonder what happened?

“why are you saying that like you know what just went down?” you squint your eyes at the boy, who merely shrugs.

“spill”

“give me fifty bucks.”

“fuck off”

not long after, you hear a loud slam. jaemin stands up, his eyes quickly met yours and he looked away, going with haste out the cafeteria’s doors.

and you’re left wondering what the fuck went down at the norenmin table.

“okay, i’m done with all the fucking vague answers,” you stare down haechan, trying to intimidate an answer out of the stoner.

“why the fuck did jaemin not go to homecoming sophomore year and do not give me a smartass answer because i will without a doubt flush your weed stash down the drain and break your juul pens to bits. now, spill.”

damn, y/n going in for the kill

haechan hesitates before a sigh leaves his lips, “i don’t pride myself on much other than my ridiculously good looks and my ability to bargain good weed deals, but long long before i became so awesome-”

“cut to the chase”

“chill, bitch, i was getting there. anyways, i was basically jaemin’s confide,” haechan admits. “that’s why he’s so awkward around me, i basically know all of his personal secrets and all that jazz.”

and you’re shocked bc haechan is really reallllllllllllllllllllllllllllly petty with both of the ts bolded, and he has not once let any private info slip about jaemin, like the kind of deep shit, you’d write in your diaries.

not once sober or faded or drunk. the loud ass himself kept his lips seals which is an incredible feat already.

“don’t look at me like that, i’m a dick, but i’m not that big of dick,” haechan mutters “we all have things we don’t want the world to know “

“okay i won’t question that, but why didn’t he just go? i mean it’s just a school dance, right? its not that big of deal,” you don’t understand the extreme mystery or drama around jaemin’s non-appearance.

haechan shakes his head, “jaemin isn’t a simple as people make him out as, sure he fucks around with girls a lot, but like me, he wasn’t always like that.”

you nod in understanding, agreeing with the point haechan made

jaemin for sure wasn’t the same person that you knew right now. he was always a sweet boy with sweet words, but before high school, he never went around messing around with other girls

“the only choice that jaemin ever made his sophomore year that was his actual choice for his own self was to not go to homecoming, for a good reason too”

“can you be a little bit more detailed?” you urged again, curiosity flowing through you.

“he didn't go because for once he didn't want to be associated with that crowd, he didn't want to be surrounded by people who hardly gave a damn how he felt, only who he was”

haechan’s words reside in you for the longest time and you finally got a glimpse of what your normally stoned friend meant through an accidental eavesdrop of a conversation

“im not going ella, it's final,” jaemin’s voice has no trace of the playful, flirty tone it usually held. he was stern and hard with his words.

“are you really going to embarrass me again, jae?” ella sounded desperate “its just one dance. all you have to do is stand by my side and smile until we get those stupid crowns and take yearbook pictures”

“if you think they’re stupid crowns then why are you making me go?” jaemin argues back.

“you should be glad that i even helped you with your campaign. why else do you think everyone is voting for you?”

and jaemin’s voice goes to a lower, warning tone, “i’ve never ask to be nominated for royalty much less fucking prom king. i don't care what you or anyone has to say, i’m not fucking going to prom.”

your eyes meet jaemin’s as he walks past the aisle you were standing at (totally not peeping into his convo)

he has an emotionless face on and doesn't say anything as he leaves ella quickly follows but stops when she sees you.

“forget everything you heard, he’s going to prom!”

jokes on you ella, bc hes not going anywhere

guess who joined the i’m-ditching-school-because-i’m-an-emotional-wreck club!!

the next three days were hectic at school, everyone was excited for the big dance on saturday. there were last-minute promposals and girls were showing off their sparkly, expensive dresses to each other.

however, the one person that was missing and had you looking for all week was, na jaemin.

where the fuck was he now?

“have you seen jaemin? i haven't seen him at school lately,” you asked jeno, who was sitting in the library diligently waiting for his tutor/crush to arrive.

the number of times you received an “idk” from one of jaemin’s other friends was ridiculous and it was like they didn’t even care that he skipped school for three days or where he was.

jaemin might be a bit on the wild side, but he’s not the type to completely ditch school for three whole days straight. that was haechan’s job.

the only people you could rely on was jeno and renjun, but the latter was more agitated at jaemin than jeno was, so you figured that the athlete was the safer option.

“i have an idea of where he is, but i have a feeling he doesn't want to see anyone, especially today,” jeno replies. news of the norenmin argument traveled quickly around the school along with the fact that jaemin had rejected ella’s prom request. there were some rumors that were being spread about the male and they weren’t all that nice.

you knew deep inside that the two of them weren’t actually mad at jaemin, they (especially jeno) was just frustrated.

“can you slide the address though?” you asked, sliding up next to him

“why would i do that?”

“because you owe me a solid”

truthfully, you didn’t know what you were going to do with jaemin’s address and it’s been weighing you down the whole day.

“you going to prom?” haechan slides into the seat next to you. for once, there were no sunglasses covering his eyes.

you shook your head,” i don’t have anyone to go with.”

“you should have just asked mark to go with you,” haechan pointed out to which you gagged loudly.

“as if i would bring an actual twelve-year-old boy to prom, he’ll probably say let’s get it every two seconds and then my hand might just actually slip and punch his face or dunk his head into the disgusting kool-aid punch..”

“damn, and i thought i hated him.”

you rolled your eyes, “what about you? did you plan to confess to mina yet?”

“i was thinking about going old school and do one of those typical high school romeo and juliet scenes,” haechan said smugly. “might throw a shoe or two if i have to.”

you shake your head in disbelief, “be civil at least.”

“but i also can’t leave my main bitch alone for prom night so why don’t go to prom or hang out with the biggest thot in town?” haechan suggested.

“haechan, ten graduated high school like 3 years ago. i doubt he wants to spend his free time on a saturday night at a high school dance with me.”

facepalm.

“i’m not talking about that ultimate thot.”

“jungwoo is also in college.”

another fat facepalm.

“honestly, i thought you had at least ONE functioning brain cell,” haechan groaned “i’m talking about na jaemin.”

“what do you want me to do with him? the two of us aren’t exactly friends,” you mumble.

“exactly, use this time to spend some time with him or something. get closer or get laid, i don’t care, just don’t be a loner tomorrow,” haechan replies. “i can’t be friends with a lameo.”

“he hasn’t shown up for school in like three days and tomorrow is prom night,” you argue “besides, i don’t know where he’s even at.”

“that’s the fattest lie i have ever heard leave your mouth and you told mr. moon that his moon tie looked good on him. i know for a fact that you have his address saved on your phone, which is kinda creepy now that i think about it, but that’s beside the point.”

“why do you care so much? i thought you hated him,” you eyed haechan weirdly.

“because that moron needs someone to help him out and whose more suited for the job herself than the girl that was hopelessly in love with him all sophomore year.”

you smack his arm,”i should have never trusted you with my diary. besides, i don’t like him like that anymore.”

“then why do you worry about him so much?” haechan pointed out. ‘why did you go to jeno for jaemin’s whereabouts if you supposedly didn’t like him anymore.”

“caring about someone is different from liking them,” you chided him “you should know best since it took you months to realize that you were in love with mina.”

“stfu i’m supposed to be the wise teacher and you’re the young grasshopper.” haechan shushed you with a finger which you swatted away.

“i’m not joking around though, just go see what’s up,” haechan nudged you. “trust me, it’s worth it.”

“wow did love turn the hardest bitch in town, soft?”

“you know, i might actually just push you off stoner’s cliff one day when you’re not looking,” haechan narrowed his eyes at you.

“lol, as if i haven’t noticed that you haven’t been getting high since mina left your pathetic ass,” you pointed out.

and haechan h i s s e s.

but your stoner friend did have a point and you decide to listen to his advice for the first time in your life.

letting out a nervous breath, you rang the doorbell, a plastic bag full of junk food in your other hand. it was currently 8 pm and prom had already started. jaemin’s car was parked in the driveway, proving that he really didn’t go to prom.

“what are you doing here?” were the first words out of jaemin’s mouth when he saw you.

you raised the bag full of snacks, “do you wanna have that hang out now?”

there's a nervous feeling in your stomach, bc you don’t know if jaemin was going to reject you or not. he doesn’t have his usual cassanova, playful smile on. his face is completely neutral.

“don’t you have better things to do? like, go to prom?”

you awkwardly laugh, “about that, i’m not going.”

“why?”

“why aren’t you going?” you countered.

fair enough, jaemin relents and moves aside to let you in. there’s some lo-fi music playing in the background and a couple of books and paper strewn about the living room floor.

“my parents are on a business trip, so it’s just me,” jaemin informs you.

“cool,” you internally smack yourself bc jaemin didn’t really seem happy with ur sudden appearance. “were you just doing ur homework?”

“yeah, i have nothing else to do,” he says, cleaning up the area for u to sit. you sit down carefully and placed the bag of snacks at the base of your feet.

“did you want anything to drink?” jaemin moved to go into the kitchen. you shook your head but jaemin still pulled out two water bottles from the fridge. (save the turtles)

you look around the house, taking in the family portraits and the minimal home decor. you’ve only been to jaemin’s house a handful of times as a kid, and a lot has changed in those past few years, but some things stayed the same. on the fireplace mantle, there was a framed picture of norenminhyuck smiling with the brightest grins.

“jeno gave me crap for weeks for not taking down that picture of us four,” jaemin followed your gaze as places the two water bottles on the glass coffee table.

“why didn’t you take it down, then?” you curiously ask

taking a seat on the couch, jaemin shrugged, “sentimental value?”

and the two left it at that.

cue the awkward silence.....

“jaemin?”

he looks at you with a questioning glance

“why exactly did you and ella break up?”

jaemin lets out a sigh. he’s been anticipating the question but not now and definitely not your sudden appearance.

“there's no point in making excuse to you,” jaemin pauses before continuing “i never really liked her in the first place.”

and you look over in shock? bc the two of them were literally the couple of the year, a model example of a high school relationship.

“then why?”

“why did i say yes?” jaemin’s gaze was focused on you, leaving you unnerved. there was no sign of the cheeky jaemin, he looked completely serious. something no one really saw that often. “because thats what you wanted me to say.”

????????? - y/n’s mind

“jeno had told me that ella had urged you to introduce me to her and had confessed to you that she liked me. he told me you felt tasked with fulfilling her wish and took it upon your self to set the two of us up. i’m not stupid, y/n. i could tell by the way you planned double-dates with jeno and ella and i,” jaemin explained. there was slight embarassment on your side, sophomore you was not the best matchmaker. “but i only showed up for you. i could care less that ella was there, the only person that i wanted to see and impress was you.”

“i-“

“and i knew that you liked me too. i was expecting for you to confess to me when you told me to meet you behind the gym, but you let ella take the chance.”

“because she really liked you a lot, jaemin, and she was a close friend of mine”

“so you were willing to give up your happiness for someone who was using you to get to me?” jaemin asked bluntly.

you looked down at your fingers, feeling somewhat ashamed, “i was only worried about fitting in with the crowd at that time. i wanted people to like me.” you confessed. “after the whole fiasco, i learned to live for myself rather than for others, albeit with a little help from haechan.”

“you see, i wish i could be as brave as you to do that.” jaemin meekly smiles at you “because i’m still people-pleasing.”

“i only said yes to ella to make you happy but then everyone was congratulating me and there were more and more people by my side. i thought jeno, renjun, and donghyuck were enough to last me through high school, but the attention got to my head. i knew that no matter how much i hated ella, i couldn’t break up with because i thrive off the crowd she brought me. i thought that if i lie enough, i could make myself gain feelings for her. she was a kind and outgoing person, so i didn't think it would be that hard, except it never did happen,” jaemin sucked in his breath “i overheard a conversation by accident to one of her other friends and it was about you, about how they just used to you to get to me even though the knew you liked me. i knew that then i was surrounded by so many liars all with the same goal of getting in good with everyone.”

he continued on “the reason why i didn't want to go to hoco was bc i felt guilty. i didn't want to be another person that lived for the crowd and i knew that i would've sealed my future if i did go and get crowned king with ella. for once, i didn't want to be a liar. i just wanted to be myself.”

and then he bitterly chuckled to himself, “which is ironic since the next day i chased after the crowd again. i let you take the blame for me just because i was afraid of being outcasted even though it was my fault you had to suffer the consequences of my lie.”

“jaemin-“

“and then i kept pretending to be that stupid fuckboy that everyone painted me as just to be in the it-crowd or whatever. i don’t have anything special like how renjun has art and jeno has his sports, even haechan had something special like choir back in those days. i had nothing, i wasn’t known for anything and i’m still not known for anything other than being a fuckboy. i’m just na jaemin at the end of the day, talented in messing around with girls.”

“do you feel happy?” you carefully asked after jaemin finished his rant.

jaemin’s barely smiling at this point, “what do you think?”

“you know, i was never really mad about you about the whole ella situation,” you scooted closer to him on the couch. “at first, i blamed you because that was the easier option, pin the blame on someone else. until a certain someone told me to fuck what they say and live my own way.”

“haechan?”

you nodded, “he was the first person that i didn’t pretend or try to cater myself to fit his needs. we’re alike in that department, jaemin, we both want to be liked. i’m not going to lie, the first few months of being outcasted was hard on me. sometimes, i still get sad when i think about the day where everyone just abandoned me.”

“i’m sorry.”

“there’s no need to be sorry, jaemin because i can hardly care about it that much anymore. do you know why?”

jaemin shook his head ‘no’

“because i learned that being by myself isn’t that bad. we’re all scared of being lonely, it’s human nature, but our fears often cause us to forget that we still have ourselves.” you placed a hand on his shoulder “once you learn to befriend yourself, no one’s opinion will matter more than your own. learn to cater to yourself, learn to live for yourself. don’t just be you, live as you.”

“easier said than done,” the remark left jaemin’s lips bitterly, causing you to slightly frown. “it’s hard to learn to be friends with myself when i’m the person i hate the most. i hate the person who looks back at me in the mirror. i hate just hate what i’ve let myself become.”

“it’s never too late to change,” you say.

jaemin shook his head, he blinked quickly to clear his now glassy eyes, “it’s to the point where i don’t even know i am anymore.”

“you’re na jaemin,” you say with a little more force this time. you didn’t like the defeated tone that jaemin was talking in, this wasn’t the confident and every positive boy that you grew up with. this wasn’t the boy that stole your heart in the third grade and kept it till sophomore year. “the boy that never hesitates to help someone else and can light up the room with just one smile.”

“you don’t have to pity me, it was a grave i dug for myself.”

letting out a harsh sigh, you moved to take jaemin’s face into your hands, staring deep into his doe-eyed brown ones, which widened in response to your sudden action.

big moves, y/n, big moves

“i know it may be hard to see, but jaemin you’re way more than what they think of you. you can always change as long as you have the will to do so,” you wipe away a stray tear that was falling onto his cheek. jaemin didn’t even notice that he was crying. “it’s a difficult and long process, but it’ll be worth it in the end. trust me.”

“what if no one wants to be around me anymore? what if i end up alone? “ doubt filled his tone, and your eyes soften at the vulnerability of the boy. he was scared, lost, and confused.

“i’ll be with you. anywhere you’re at, i’ll be there by your side even if no one else will. you’re a precious person, you don’t deserve any less,” you smiled. “i won’t let you be alone.”

maybe jaemin was just being emotional. maybe it was the contained feelings that he held for you that was being released. maybe it was the way you looked at him with so much concern and the way you delicately held his face.

whatever motivated him to do what he was going to do next, jaemin could hardly care less.

without any hesitation, jaemin leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

right now, jaemin didn’t feel lost or alone. you found him and he hoped that you’ll stay.

1K notes · View notes

okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

Note

Max getting jealous of Billy's and El's relationship cause she got the big brothers always wanted right off the bat while max suffered with douchebag billy for years. Angst ensues, naturally.

Yes. yes. And YES. (I hope you don’t mind that I mixed these two!!)

Okay i have so many thoughts about this and w/ every little thing i write that includes Billy and El i think about what it must do to Max. bc i love Max and I wanna give her hugs and ohmygod guys MAX.

(And i should probably preface this by saying I haven’t read Runaway Max so i don’t necessarily know what’s canon but also i’ve been melting canon down to what i want it to be so i guess this won’t be very different from what I normally do, huh??)

Anyway i talked about it in the ask prior to this but I Highly Believe that Billy and Max’s relationship pre-move-out-mayhem was bitchy at most. Like I think they were snarky and a little rude to each other but they were still supportive. Bc they lived in a house w/ a man who got mad so frequently. and i don’t think Neil ever touched or ever will touch Max (i have extended thoughts on this but we don’t have to get into it here, i’ll just leave it at the gist) but Max knows something is wrong. Sees the bruises on Billy’s face and hears the yelling and the harsh sounds and harsher words. Never ever talks about it bc Billy always barks at her if she tries. But she’ll let him have the last popsicle he loves so much or she’ll let him take as much time as he wants fixing his hair in the bathroom in the morning or just any little thing that makes something even a little better. Bc she’s still a kid at this point, there’s not a lot she can do, but she can do little things like that.

And i headcanon Billy as having been a brat but still doing things for her. Like when he has to babysit her and he’ll take her down to the boardwalk and buy her an ice cream but he’s like: “Don’t get used to it.” as if he didn’t just do something super nice. He does her hair for her bc as a kid she was Helpless at putting her hair up and so he started helping her and just never stopped. Did her hair for her bc it was easier than sitting down to teach her. Cooks dinners for her or even w/ her when Neil and Susan are out to dinner or out of town or whatever. Drives her to school every day when he gets a car and they argue over music but really she kind of likes his music, even though she’d never tell him. She gets into some of the bands he likes and steals a couple of the band shirts he lifted from stores when they get too small for him. He teaches her how to skate and even gives her his board when he gets his car. She’s ecstatic about it and he brushes it off by pulling at her hair and saying: “Whatever, dipshit, now I won’t have to drive you to the candy store or wherever it is you go.”

She punches his arm.

He chuckles and kicks at her heel lightly as they walk.

They just… they’re brats but they’re SIBLINGS. And yeah they’re half siblings but Billy is adamant in S2 about the fact that they’re family. That boy loves Max and Max loves Billy bc they grew up w/ each other and faced so much shit together.

But right before the move… and during the move… and after the move…

Billy gets so rough. He’s angry all the time. Stops doing her hair and yells at her when she asks. Laughs when she tries and fails to the point where she just leaves her hair down and unbrushed bc it’s just easier. He’s on edge all the time and takes it out on her and he vaguely sees himself doing it but he’s red and angry and uncaring bc fuck this fuck all of this.

He blames everything he sees bc it’s easy and facing the reality of his whole situation is hard and he’s just tired. Wants to be given a break but he hasn’t been given a break for years now so he’s absolutely exhausted. He kicks and punches walls and he slams his door in Max’s face when she asks him a question and he shuts himself away bc it’s easier to do that than face anything and it’s bad. But Billy isn’t sure what qualifies as bad and good anymore, he just knows what hurts and what doesn’t and everything hurts but hiding almost makes it feel like it doesn’t. He used to not mind being his sister’s keeper but now he fucking has to babysit her goddamn 24/7 and he’s in a new town where he knows NOBODY and he can’t be open here bc it’s in the fucking midwest and he’s just angry and hurt and so damn fearful so he gets mad. Stressed. Takes it out on everything and everyone and Max.

So Max loses her brother.

She loses him mentally and emotionally and then she loses him physically.

Bc Hop finds out, and he adopts Billy, and then Billy’s gone. But Billy makes it very clear to her once he’s gone that “If anything and I mean absolutely anything happens with Neil, you tell me straight away. Got it? I’m living with the goddamn Chief of Police now, we’ll get that guy in jail so fast I swear.”

Max just nods.

But nothing ever happens. Neil is kind of a dick but he doesn’t get as angry. He’s strict but not physical. It makes Max angry though bc she hates the thought that it was just Billy that made him so horrible. She doesn’t wanna believe it. Sure this man gave her her brother but she hates him for pushing him away.

And Max loves El. She really does. She loves El to the moon and back, hanging out with her is an absolute blast, having a friend who’s a girl feels like a godsend sometimes bc boys are stupid and girls are soft and pretty and lovely.

And she tries real hard not to be jealous of El. She really really does. And she tries real hard not to get mad at Billy either, really. It’s just that…

It sucks. And it hurts. Bc Billy is so calm with El. He’s so brotherly and caring and good with her. He takes her to ice cream and does her hair and jokes around with her. He lets her brush his hair and he buys cookies and stuff for her and they have little inside jokes now. He’s soft and gentle with her. He shows her new music and he hugs her all the fucking time and wow it sucks.

Because Max had to deal with all of it before it became this. Saw all of Billy’s pain and felt pain in her heart over it and then saw through Billy giving her pain and felt physical pain over that and then saw him leave and now feels emotional pain over the fact that she doesn’t get him anymore.

And he still drives her to school everyday. He still drives her around when she asks, even if he bitches about it. He shows her new music and he willingly hands over his too small band shirts. He’s still a protective little shit over her. He hangs out with her and messes around w/ her when she goes over to visit El.

But the thing is… El gets to keep him… and Max has to go home to no one.

And Max likes her mom. Would never wanna leave her mom. Her mom is the one thing that keeps her grounded to her previous life- her life even before Billy. Dealing with dickish Neil is sometimes worth it bc she still has her mom.

But her mom isn’t really home all that much. And even when she is, hanging out with her isn’t as cool or fun; sometimes it’s kind of draining. She just wants her brother back.

And Max is a goddamn firecracker too. Just like her brother. She’s hotheaded and straightforward and she just gets so frustrated bc whatthefuck. But she doesn’t wanna lash out at El bc it’s not El’s fault and she doesn’t really wanna lash out at Billy bc she’s happy he’s happy now but goddamnit she had to deal with all of the trauma and now El gets him at his best without the worst and she’s just pissed.

So sometimes she’ll get fed up. She’ll come over to hang out and she hears Billy and El making their own little inside jokes and watches Billy pick El up and swing her around while El giggles and sees Billy helping El read things like titles to movies or cereal boxes or ice cream cartons and Max’s face will get red and she’ll storm out of the cabin grumbling about skating home.

And Billy doesn’t like that, doesn’t really want her skating home from here, so he follows her out, leaving El inside, shouting: “Wait up, Max, I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Quit being a brat, you shouldn’t be skating that far this late.”

“Me skating home never worried you before.”

“Cut it out, I just don’t want anything happening to you-”

And Max turns, face red, hair in flames around her head as it whips around her and she yells: “You’re not my brother anymore!”

And Billy is seriously taken aback. Bc to him he never stopped being her brother but here Max is, angry and spitting in his direction with her anger, gripping her board tight and her nose crunching up in that way he almost forgot about.

Max huffs.

“Just go have fun with your new sister.”

Billy’s chest flares up.

“Fine, shitbird!”

Max gets on her board and shoots a middle finger up behind her as she skates away. Billy slams the door when he heads back inside.

And they make up real fast. A few days later El wants to see Max to go shopping and there’s no one to drive them but Billy. So they’re a little pissy with each other but Billy gets them a couple of sodas and Max hip checks him a few times so he knows they’re cool again.

But there’s still that tense feeling in her chest. That sick feeling in her throat. That pounding in her head as El tries on a bunch of shirts and Billy jokes around with El and ruffles her hair and pokes her forehead.

She watches them interact and it presses at her chest too hard so she forces herself to speak. She needs it off her chest she needs it gone.

“Billy?”

“Mm?” He grunts out.

“Do you… like El more than me?”

And god something about it cracks Billy’s heart. Bc he loves Max, he really does. He’s done so much in his life to protect her and help her and teach her. They grew up for years together. They’ve been through too much shit for him to not love her. and he’s never seen her so self conscious before.

There’s a long pause of them sitting there, Billy’s head spinning a bit, before he looks to her and takes a dramatic sigh.

“You know… to be honest… I hate all of you runts just about the same.”

He chuckles when she punches him. “I’m being serious!”

“So am I! You big group of nerds leech all my money,” Billy begins counting the list on his fingers, “make me your personal driver, keep me from fucking my boyfrie-”

“Shut up! God you’re so grody!” Max shoves at his shoulder.

“Grody? Excuse me Max, grody? Who are you?”

She shoves him again and sighs. Billy watches her.

“What’s got you so worked up, brat?”

Max grumbles, nose scrunching up before she gives an angry huff.

“I hate this. I don’t want to hate it but… you’re supposed to be my brother.” She’s angry, face turning red but there’s almost tears in her eyes and Billy hates seeing them there. “And El gets you when you’re nice.” she tilts her head back against the wall and looks up to the ceiling. “I bet she doesn’t even know how much of a dick you can be.”

Billy chuckles.

“I’d beg to differ. I’m still being a dick.”

“Doubt it.”

“Seriously, Max. You know me, I was born a jerk.”

“Were not.” she mumbles. He flicks her ear in response.

She yelps. “Hey! Jerk!”

“See?” Billy laughs and lightly shoves her shoulder. “Quit worrying about it. I’m serious. Yeah El gets me now that I’m in a good spot but you understand me, y’know? We get each other. Or whatever.”

Max rolls her eyes but seems pretty pleased with the answer. Billy gives a satisfied grin before folding his hands behind his head and leaning back.

“Besides…” he drawls. “It’s no secret that Will is my actual favorite.”

Max punches his side and Billy makes a pained noise over his chuckle.

“See? Will wouldn’t hit me!”

Max rolls her eyes again but she’s smiling. She’s glad Billy still thinks of himself as her brother bc she doesn’t want him to go away. She lost him once and doesn’t wanna lose him again.

And yeah it still kinda sucks… but she likes the relationship she has with Billy. Plus, after their little talk Billy starts being overly nice to the point where it’s clearly a joke. He grabs the sides of her head and gives a big, dramatic kiss to the top of it. He scoops her up into bone crushing hugs. He holds doors open for her and acts real dumb about it and starts calling her things like “Sister dear” to the point where Max just says: “Cut it out you’re being annoying. Just go back to being a jerk.”

He laughs and punches her shoulder lightly.

“You got it, shitbird.”

473 notes · View notes

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

Text

Rasputin And His Queen (Steve Harrington x fem!reader)

Description: Everyone loves Halloween. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone - the kids LOVE trick or treating, teenagers love Halloween parties and the adults love both decorating the house and to have a nice, calm night. And since one particular day, Steve Harrington fell in love with that day as well.

A/N: Inspired by Boney M’s song Rasputin bcs why not?

A/N 2: Celebration of Halloween and The King Man’s Rasputin except I am late to both parties. And I ooop.

AU where Nancy and Steve broke up before the summer break and not on the Halloween party of 84’. Just pretend that it was a normal summer party. His friendship with Dustin is still on thin ice, season 2 hasn't started officially in this one-shot.

Warnings: Billy acting like a fucking shithead he is.

The commies, the Russians, red swines - no matter how you decided to name them, they were hated in the USA. But from time to time, you still met a Russian in your country or those who ran away from Ukraine - and most of the time, they were cool.

And since you were small, your mom took care of an old Russian lady named Anna - even if your dad wasn't very fond of your mom friending with someone who was born in Russia, your mom decided that Anna needs her help. She was old, fragile and barely took care of her. You spent every Wednesday and Sunday with that lady, you were at her place and when you were lucky and Anna was able to speak with you, she was telling you about Russian history. Her English wasn't exactly the best, but over time, you learned how to understand Anna.

No, she was not telling you stories of Lenin or Stalin, not about the commies, no. She was talking about the history of the old, great Russia, she spoke about the last czar family of the Romanovs. When you were older, she even told you about the big rumors going about the family’s relationship to a strange man named Rasputin. She was old enough at the time to remember the time when the dynasty was ruined and practically burned down, how they hunted every one of them.

Her mother was very fond of the czar imperial family, so Anna could even show you some photos of the family. It was a fairytale you didn't have in the USA - a big royal family with beautiful women, something like princesses, big balls, a beautiful dress, and the most expansive jewelry. You loved to listen about the tsars even if you had to keep your mouth shut.

And when Anna had died in the March of 84’ at the age of 87, you wanted to show her some respect without the others telling you that you might be a commie - so you decided to do it on the Halloween night. You started the preparations very early - you had a big crown on you had made from old jewelry and some shining stones, you used old shirts she gave you in her will. They were old and from Russia, there was a corset decorated with flowers and shirts that showed way more than they hid.

But when you were done with your costume, it looked pretty lit - the upper part was an imitation of Alexandra Foedorovna's dress from one photo, but you decided to have pants decorated with jewelry and high boots instead of a dress.

You kept the costume as a secret - only your mom and your best friend knew about it. Your mom found it nice - your best friend was a bit worried about it. But is suited you like hell when you had the perfect hairstyle and the right make-up.

You had your gang at school - it was you, your best friend Clara, and two boys - Steve and Lenny. Steve joined you after his break up with Nancy Wheeler, who was a really nice and beautiful girl, and ever since, you hung out really often.

It was basically the last Halloween you were able to be together - after that, Clara was going to NYC, Lenny was moving out to Alaska and you were going on a college in a near town. So that Halloween had to be perfect.

You knew Steve Harrington since you were a small child - that was the curse of growing up in a small town named Hawkins, Indiana. Estimated population? 30.000 people - maybe more, maybe less. There was a shit-ton of weird things going on in the last two years. But yeah, you knew almost everybody from your neighborhood. And since Steve was living in the house next to you, you had some pretty cringy photos and memories together.

But you only saw him as the neighborhood who sometimes greeted you as you grew up, but it became blatantly obvious when he joined your group of friends. Clara could tell right away that he has those puppy eyes for you only and that finds you funny and cute as hell. But you just laughed at that - you were sure that when he gets the first option to leave your group for better, more popular friends, he will just do that without thinking.

But as the time passed by, Clara and Lenny caught Steve stare numerous times, he was laughing at things you've said that weren't even a bit funny and he always ASKED you to help him with studies and homework. Every time you told your gang that you have to watch over your younger, dumb sister, he volunteered to take you both out - to watch a movie, to just hang out at the playground or to grab some food. And you usually accepted his offers - but you never saw the real reason behind that.

When he saw you walking down the hall with a smile on your face, telling Clara something that happened, he liked the way you looked and presented yourself. For the first week, he was telling himself that it is only the shock from breaking up with Nance - that he is only searching for a pretty face to like. But then he started his long-forgotten childhood friendship with you again - he took only small steps at a time. It officially had started when you met up at Burger King to have a study night.

Since then, he was not only a member of your gang; but he felt something. Some nudge in his head telling him that there is something about the girl with two ponytails and shiny swimsuit he had on a photograph in his childhood album.

Steve could just tell you how he felt, serve it on a silver plate or just kiss you already; but you two were seriously too dumb for that.

The final nail in the coffin was when Steve waited for Clara outside the chemistry class just to ask her this:

"Do you know what is Y/N wearing for this Halloween?" - He leaned next to her cabin with his shoulder, chewing on a piece of gum. Steve, the Great Hair™ Harrington was trying to look as cool as he could, not giving too much away. But Clara could tell that he's nervous while he asked that question.

"I do. Why?" - She took out the book she had to read for English and which she decided she will continue with during the lunch break.

"I just want to surprise her by doing... A pair costume? I was just saying that she might find it funny?" - Steve shrugged his shoulders and took his sunglasses off. Idiot. He didn't really know how to wear them, did he? - "So... Will you tell me or you'll leave me hanging? I really don't want to go ask her mum this afternoon."

Clara chuckled and walked the hall down with Steve. Jesus, that boy was willing to sacrifice his dignity just to find out what you're Halloween costume is. And that you'll find it funny? Sure you will. And maybe it will fucking finally release the tension which is at the table in the cafeteria while Steve sits on the other side of the table and watches you like a statue from the antique Rome. There was this electricity which he was sending your way, but you were totally numb to pick up on.

"Under one circumstance, dear Harrington." - Clara rose her eyebrows and walked the hall alongside the big basketball jock. Steve sighed and looked at her.

“I am not going to drive you to school every single morning, Clara. Not happening.” - Steve shook his head with a frown. Clara left out a burst of genuine laughter.

“You will ask her out finally. That's the deal - if you don't, you will be explaining Mrs. Y/L/N why you need to know what is her daughter wearing for Halloween so desperately.” - She turned to the lab, he copied Clara’s moves and almost took down a girl who wasn't watching her way. Steve looked shocked - that was the first time Clara could see him like that.

“Take her out? We’re out like.. All the time.” - He said without a clue. Clara rolled her eyes, caught his upper arm and stopped him pretty aggressively.

“Now listen to me, Harrington, because I am not gonna repeat myself. I am sick of how in love you look when she sits her ass on the opposite side of the table, how you run with her everywhere she goes like a lovesick puppy and how desperately you want to bang her or kiss her, I don't really care, Harrington. All I know is that she is my best friend and that you genuinely want to make her happy because if you didn't and just lost your interest in her, then this whole fucking thing wouldn't be going on for almost four months. Are we clear?” - Clara burst at him so quickly that steve froze down and looked at her in shock.

She was right in every single point. It was only a rumor that Steve the Idiot™ Harrington is still a ladies man or that he is doing it for the fame - all he wanted was just a few good friends and a loving girlfriend.

“I don't want to... Only bang her.” - Steve stuttered out in shock. Clara opened up her mouth and then shut it tight again. Was she too hard on Steve? He was as red as an Italian tomato and he was looking everywhere except her eyes.

“That is not the point, you idiot!” - She dragged him to the side of the corridor. - “The point is that I want you to date already, dipshit!”

“Hey, do not be so harsh, I understood what you mean. You just looked like you want to murder me and I just didn't know what the hell should I say dingus.” - Steve answered aggressively as well, which made Clara shut up for a second as well. Ok. So Steve was able to defend him, which made her smile.

“Will you ask her out if I tell you?” - Clara offered him her hand and Steve looked at it with a frown. - “That is the deal. Take it or leave it, asshole.”

And like that, he just made a deal with the devil called Clara by the locals who happened to be your bestie as well.

“Alexandra Feodorovna. The last big czarina of Russia. You have two options.” - Clara started talking when they slowly moved towards the classroom again. - “Either you can go as her husband, Nicholas Romanov or the mystical ladies man Rasputin.”

“Rasputin? Like that Europian song? Russia’s biggest love machine?” - Steve joked a bit but turned his smile down when he saw her risen eyebrows. - “How did they look like? Where should I look it up?” - He asked desperately. But Clara didn't answer as she walked into the classroom.

There you were again, dressed in your prettiest sweater and the prettiest jeans ever, your hair resembling Joyce Byers’s in a way, but it looked... Hot on you. You smiled at them and started to ramble about yesterday’s chemistry test - which Steve completely fucked up.

That evening Steve the Dingus™ Harrington did something he thought he would never do - he visited the library for the first time ever. The librarian lady looked him up and down like she couldn't actually believe her eyes.

“Can I do something for you?” - She, Mrs. Remsay, looked almost amazed by Steve Harrington visiting the library.

“Yes. Definitely, you can. Where can I find the history of the Romanovs? They're supposed to be a... Russian royal family of cars?” - Steve smiled at her nervously. Great. Now, she will think that he is a commie. Or that he is planning to be one. - “It is... For a Halloween costume, Mrs. Remsay. I swear to God that I am not with the Russians.”

“First of all, no offense, but you don't have the capacity of being a Russian spy. The Romanovs were a czar dynasty, not cars. Second of all, those books are in historic literature and third of all, five books at a time.” - She gave him a library card with a smile. Steve took it from her small palm without anything to say - she just ultimately called him dumb. But yeah, he probably hadn't got the capacity of being a Russian spy - even his essays sucked.

He sat there the whole afternoon, going through three to five books about them. Only one had a picture of that mysterious man Rasputin he knew about only from a disco song - and god, wasn't that man weird?

But what needed to be done, that needed to be done. Steve did his best - he got himself a fake beard, got an old coat which looked like it is going to fall apart any minute and rosemary with some pants and boots. When he looked at himself, he needed to say that it isn't that bad after all - but he wasn't as weird as that man.

You decided to meet up at your place - Clara was dressed up as Cleopatra who was mummified and was brought back to life, so she had loads of toilet paper and gazes around her along with some crazy make-up and a crown in her hair. Lenny was going as his superhero idol, Batman. And he did look funny.

But you definitely took the longest to prepare - Anna always told you that czarina Alexandra was a breathtaking young woman who was beautiful and you wanted to do her justice. Only braiding your big czarina crown and the veil going with that, falling on your back, took you more than half an hour. Then the make-up, small details... You took three hours to get done, but you were perfect. Your little bratty sister almost yelled that she wants you to take it all off so she could be the queen, but your mother didn't let her.

When you slowly walked the stairs in your house down, you were breathtaking, at least to Steve. He gulped when he saw your neck drowned under all the jewelry and shiny diamonds, your crowned head and the boots with a slight wedge, so you weren't exactly walking high heels, but it made your legs optically longer and your ass more standing out.

You chuckled when you saw Steve. Was he who you thought he was?

But before you could ask, there was the Polaroid taking time™ your mother loved and you hated completely. Your mom made all of you make several pictures - you and your sister dressed like a ladybug, you and the Cleo, you and Bat-Man and finally, you and Steve. And didn't you two look like a photo of Alexandra and her devoted healer?

Steve really tried his best to copy that man’s posture and expression as he held the rosemary in front of his chest, his eyes wide open, only so you would have the best picture you could. You posed on a chair with a blank stare into the oblivion - you two really did the best you could.

It was a beautiful photo which you knew that you'll have on your wall with memories. You left the house around six with your mom screaming "be back by ten and not a minute late, young lady" at your back. You walked to Steve’s car so he could drive all four of you to Tammy's house.

She had a crush on Steve since ever and pinned after him since he and Nancy broke up. You hoped the best - Tammy wasn't exactly the nicest, but she wasn't a both either. You two never really got along, but you hoped for the best for Steve.

"So... Uh... Nice costume? - You chuckled while Steve drove the car like a maniac and you needed to hold the crown on the top of your head. - "Who you are?" - You asked again and Clara shifted forward on her seat to listen closely to your conversation.

Steve way really enjoying himself, he was excited about that evening a lot since you were there with him, but at the same time, Billy Hargrove's appearance at the party was making him a bit uneasy. He didn't like that guy - to be honest, he was almost shitting himself around Billy. That boy was a fucking maniac. Steve had a feeling that something is going to fuck up at that party.

"Can't you tell? I am the man from that song. That love machine, that's all me." - He chuckled unsurely and tried to do have a calm expression at the moment. You will see through his lies in a moment and he KNEW THAT.

"So you heard Bonney M's song playing and just told yourself that you'll be Rasputin? That's what you want me to think?" - You laughed. - "Such a coincidence while I'm dressing up as the queen he was rumored to be the lover of, Harrington. Who told you?"

"The wind, I guess?" - Steve looked from the window because you gave him those shiny eyes and a big, bright smile.

"I think it's nice of you. To do a pair costume, I mean, nobody ever done that with me." - You smoothed his shoulder lightly and then looked away. Clara just nudged his chin with her fingers, motioning that NOW'S the chance, but he shook his head and showed her his middle finger up so she would shut. Ok. She and Lenny have a plan on how to get you together anyways, so Steve being a dumb shy bitch wasn't a problem really.

The truth was that there was something magical about Halloween nights. Everyone got dressed up and pretty, they were the costumes they wore and not the people in them. Halloween nights were the best in your life since you were a kid. Your dad always took you trick or treating along with Steve and Deborah, a girl down your street who now was a total bitch. You always wore the same costumes - Steve was a great basketball player, you were a Daisy and Deb was a witch.

The best days of your life - you were just a bunch of friends who ADORED each other. Now, you were just thrown back to those days with Steve walking by your side as Rasputin while you were the queen, your hand always close to each other. But you were too dumb to hold them.

"Can I get you something, your majesty?" - He bowed a bit, making you chuckle a bit.

"A cup of cola would do the trick, my dear." - You patted his shoulder. Steve turned away before you could see that he has that dumb smile on. If there weren't so many people, he would perform the dumb victory dance he did only when he was alone. Steve the biggest ladies man Hawkins ever saw™ Harrington actually did a happy dance around a lot.

A lot of girls actually crossed by and told you that your costume is on point. Yeah. You didn't like when someone was telling you that he's the best... But your costume was DEFINITELY the best out there. The most thought through and the nicest in visage. Plus Steve had done what he had done.

But then you heard someone arguing in the back as you waited next to a living room turned into a dance floor for Steve and your Cola. You looked at Clara with a frown before stepping there.

"And you and your costume? You're just pathetic. Little. Child. Harrington!" - You heard a known voice. It was Billy Hargrove's voice - he was the current tyrant of the Hawkins high school, with his racist, irrational mind.

"Who asked you about your opinion, Hargrove? Keep it to yourself and go home. You're fucking drunk." - And at that moment, you saw as Billy pushed Steve down on a small table, prepared to give him a punch. Everyone froze down for a moment, looking at the two of them before the first gasps of "Billy!" could be heard.

"Stop!" - Nancy Wheeler suddenly jumped between them and tried to tear them apart, but another girl and Johnathan Byers, her current boyfriend, local weirdo and the best photographer you've seen had to help her. - "What the fuck is your problem?!" - Nancy yelled at him, stepping in front of Steve to protect him as she didn't let Hargrove from her stare.

There was something about Nancy Wheeler and you needed to admit that whether she was your best friend's ex who totally broke his heart of the girl you sometimes smiled at in the corridor. There was something about her.

"Steve fucking Harrington is my fucking problem!" - Billy yelled back at her. The situation was getting boiling hot. - "And if you don't get out of the way, your pretty face gets hit as well!"

"If you don't stop treating her, I'll punch your perfect teeth out!" - Jonathan screamed at him which made everyone shut up again. You could barely hear Byers speaking. He was never yelling or raising his voice. - "If you don't back off, Hargrove, I swear that I'll kick you like a little bitch and I that I'll fucking enjoy... Every... Single... Second." - Steve pointed at him and took the same defending position in front of Nance, just a foot away from Billy's face.

You watched Steve with amazement. He was so brave at that moment. He appeared to be so strong and big... To be the protector. And he was protecting the person he hated the most at the moment, even if it wasn't her fault.

"I think you should leave, Billy." - Tammy stepped out of the corner from where she watched the whole situation with fear in her eyes. - "Come around later, man."

And with that, Billy screamed like if he went completely mad at the moment. He was like a little child walking away at a fast pace, shutting the door so quickly that the window next to it shook. Before Nancy had even a chance to speak with Steve, you walked up to him, catching his face in your palms like you were about to kiss him.

But you didn't, you only checked for bruises or blood. You checked that he's alright. And Steve was, he really was, only his back hurt like a bitch since Billy pushed him on a wooden table.

"Steve Harrington." - You sighed dramatically. - "I know that you are a dingus and a friend who always makes me laugh... But this was fucking brave." - You nodded. He turned his face away with a cocky smile and a smile yes on his lips. As your hands slide on the coat which was practically falling apart, you caught his shoulders.

And he felt it. The first bolt of electricity that came from you. Steve could know it because of your eyes - they jumped from his eyes to his lips and you were leaning in like you asked him for permission. But Nancy came next to you and she made you jump away from Steve.

He watched you walk away, your cheeks were reddening as you nervously smiled, shook your head and then you just disappearing in the crowd. His heart sank. Was this the only bolt he was going to get from you? And did Nancy just fuck it up too?

"Thank you, Steve." - She smiled at him in a typical Wheeler manner and smoothed his elbow. - "Thank you for doing this to me. It was nice, I really appreciate it. And about Y/N..." - She looked behind her shoulder and nudged his. - "You guys are incredibly cute together. Go get her and make sure you're doing it properly. Show how great you are." - She leaned in to kiss his cheek and rose her thumbs up before leaning into Jonathan's hug.

Steve looked at Nancy and she only smiled wider, nodding to tell him that he should go. That was when Clara's while came as she leaned to the big stereo.

"Cover me! Lenny! Cover me!" - She yelled, balancing on her right foot, putting the cassette inside. She almost sold her soul to the real devil before she got it, but she managed to get it out of one boy that was pinning after her like hell. So Lenny stood in front of her leaned ass and tried to cover her with his cloak.

When Clara was done, a burst of victory laughter could be heard out of her posh lips. She stood up and pressed play while she leaned her shoulder into the cabinet beside her and Lenny. - "Now, just fucking watch."

You looked around the room when an uptown disco started to play. It was something from the last decade - and all you could was just to laugh when you realized that it's Bonney M's Rasputin. You covered up your mouth. Steve sneaked up beside you so stealthy you almost gave him a slap.

"It looks like someone..." - With that, he looked at Clara with a dead stare. - "Is playing my song. So... Do you wanna?" - Steve smiled at you and he walked to the dancefloor backward. For a moment, you watched him with your eyes partially closed and with a strange smile, but then you walked up to him. Even if the disco rhythm was unbelievably rhythmic and fast and made a lot of people immediately dance, your steps remained slow as you put your hand on Steve's chest, walking around him in a circle, not leaving a single centimeter out of your touch. Jesus, he was burning at that moment.

Then, instead of jumping around, your left palm rose his right and you left it up as you started to walk in circles. He saw that. In a romantic movie, his mom was watching on the TV - some noble princess lady or who danced like that century ago. But when you smiled at him from below the crown in that low light with your reddened cheek, he didn't find it cheesy. It was just... Hot. Hot and sensual.

Then you changed your hand and walked in the other direction.

"I am the czarina, remember?" - You giggled. - "And you're apparently my lover as the lyrics say."

Steve giggled as well, looking around. Clara and Lenny were intensely watching both of you with a big smile, just as a few other people around. They weren't laughing at you, they found you cute as hell. You changed the direction again.

"I sure as hell am, my lady." - Steve answered with a dumb smile, but before he could continue, you took his hand with a laugh and started to spin around, moving your body in the rhythm.

You were everything Nancy couldn't be to Steve. Just a young girl enjoying life, laughing, being happy. And that fool was just in love with you. He danced as well, completing your improvised choreography. Everyone yelled the refrain as loudly as they could, slowly progressing to the last verse of the song. You took his palms into yours and started to slowly leaned in, still singing and getting so close that you caught his shoulders into your palm.

"Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine, and so they shot him 'til he was dead ." - Everyone yelled and just before the Jamaican singer could say "Ah, those Russians", your lips were on his and your eyes were closed as you hung on his shoulders, making him catch your waist, so he could lean in as well. You, girl, you were the most desperate and the best kisser he has ever kissed until that night.

When you leaned away with your eyes shining and a big, beautiful smile on your lips, he knew that it's his time to get over with his part of the deal before Clara cuts his balls off.

"Well, when we finally made it all clear." - He stood up and looked around. Nobody was staring at you and Clara was changing the cassette again. - "Do you want to hang out? Like a date hang out? Just... I mean, you, me, movie and dinner or something like that?" - He stuttered out as he put you down on the ground. You made a shocked face and caught his face to your hand again, playing with the fake beard.

"Wouldn't you want to know, lover boy?" - You giggled and pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"After all of this? I want you to take me out as soon as you can."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #halloween imagine #stranger sthings #stranger things au #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #billy hargrove #rasputin #by boney m #inspired by

49 notes · View notes

oscar-mildes · 5 years ago

Note

elvira you know I always see what you're hiding in the tags,, I will always read it if you answer all of them abhsjdbs

nev you asked for this and im going to go thru with it bc im an oversharing idiot like oh you asked me how’s the weather i will tell you about all my trauma instead :D

What do you identify as and what are your pronouns? i’m cis yo i’m she/her. i’m biromantic ace. thats the label i would put on it i guess. i really just refer to myself as gay bc i like pretty boys who look like girls and pretty girls and pretty nb and queer people and basically i just like pretty people ajsfbjf

How did you discover your sexuality, tell your story? theres no story to it. no epiphany or realization. i just always was ok with thinking that girls were pretty and that gay people are cool and it wasnt until recent years that i was like oH SHIT AM I GAY

Have you experienced being misgendered? What happened and how did you overcome it? no i guess bc i’m a girl and id as a girl and have a very obvious girl body

Who was the first person you told, how did they react? i guess my best friend. we’re both very ok with gay shit and we just always made comments about pretty girls and now we’re both pretty gay. i like my big tiddie anime girls and she likes her pretty kpop girl bands

Describe what it was like coming out, what did you feel? i’ve only “come out” to some of my friends. i would NEVER in my LIFE even imagine telling my mom i like girls. shes homophobic Like That

If you’re out, how did your parents/guardians/friends react? uhh see above. my mom, stepdad, family members are all homophobic. hispanics in general are Like That rip. i think my dad would be the most ok with it but he lives in mexico and i dont talk to him often anyway. doesnt matter

What is one question you hate people asking about your sexuality? i hate when people ask me about the ace part. like they have a bigger problem about my not wanting to have sex over the liking girls part tbh. sometimes it’s difficult for me to even describe where i am on the ace spectrum. it’s honestly the more difficult part

Describe the style of clothing that you most often wear. basic nerd. you know those fics like “she dressed in a black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and all star converse” yea that she is me

Who are your favourite lgbt+ ships? ajkfj this is a good question and canon wise i love Ash and Eiji from Banana Fish, Uenoyama and Mafuyu from Given, Nezumi and Shion from No. 6, and Simon and Baz from Carry On. Not canon i love Kurama and Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho, Izuku and Todoroki from My Hero Academia, and Inosuke and Tanjiro from Demon Slayer. Note how most of them are anime i

What does makeup mean to you? Do you wear any? i dont really wear any bc im lazy. if you like it you do you but idrc for it? except for lipstick i LOVE lipstick i have all the colors. i wear it so it distracts people from the rest of my face

Do you experience dysphoria? If so, how does that affect you? ...no

What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard said about the lgbt+ community? i live in the south so ive heard tons of shit talk about gay people. i dont really have any that stand out. my mom just likes to say that we’re going to hell :D so let’s give em a show ay

What’s your favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? i guess i like how we find solidarity in each other just bc we’re not straight. most of the lgbt+ folks i know are pretty chill about everything

What’s your least favourite thing about the lgbt+ community? terfs but they dont count

Have you ever been to your cities pride event? Why or why not? i live in a small town and i could never sneak out of my house for that bc i still live with my mom so no

Who is your favourite lgbt+ Icon/Advocate/Celebrity? theres so many big celebrities now that id as lgbt+ but im going old school and loving my man, my tumblr url namesake mr Oscar Wilde. my man got put in jail for sodomy

Have you been in a relationship and how did you meet? lmao never bc im mean, ugly, and terrible at talking to people irl. i had a bf in middle school? but bc i was 12 i dont count it

What is your favourite lgbt+ book? Carry On and the sequel Wayward Son. (very anxiously waiting for book 3 Anyway the Wind Blows come on Rainbow Rowell)

Have you ever faced discrimination? What happened? for being gay? no. bc im not really out. ive faced discrimination for being a brown woman tho :)))

Your Favorite lgbt+ movie or show? yall i love gay anime: Given, Banana Fish, No. 6, Yuri on Ice yeee. i dont really watch tv with real people but i think that Brooklyn 99 does a very good job with Holt and Rosa yall im love Rosa

Who are some of your favourite lgbt+ bloggers? theres bloggers??? um idk i love u nev so you count right @why-do-you-pick-flowers

Which lgbt+ slur do you want to reclaim? for a while everyone was mad as hell about “im gay for ___” and idk im gay for everything so thats a “slur” i use for myself

Have you ever gone to a gay bar, or a drag show, how was it? ive never gone omg i’d probably be intimidated as hell like i have a lot of problems just existing so to be existing around very flamboyant and extravagant people like that makes me break into a nervous sweat

How do you self-identify your gender, and what does that mean to you? ive always felt like a girl even tho my mom always said “oh you like boy things??? you should have been born a boy” but like, your likes and dislike dont determine your gender. i like “boy” things and “dress like a boy” but i dont FEEL like a boy. ive never had any desire to become a boy or id as a boy. gender is a social construct fuck society

Are you interested in having children? Why or why not? i have a very complicated relationship with children. babies are ugly and toddlers are annoying but i feel like if i had children i would love them obviously because theyre mine. this is gonna be a weird analogy but like i dislike cats. BUT i have cats. and i love the fuck outta them. so i feel like thatd be me with kids. but im ace so like.... who would even have kids with me. i could not. pregnancy seems like a hassle and adoption is... i have thoughts on that but thats for a different post. also i can see myself being married and not having children OR having kids without a spouse. theres just something complicated about having both??? maybe im just fucked in the head idk bro

What identity advice would you give your younger self? you dont hate girls you like them, dumbass

What do you think of gender roles in relationships? fuck gender roles. get pegged, bros. i also have a very specific dynamic if i ever got into a relationship (which you know. wont happen) but like if i dated a guy i feel like i’d be very top. a MAN telling ME what to do??? fuck that. but if i dated a pretty girl??? top me pls

Anything else you want to share about your experience with gender? i think ive already said too much oh god someone is gonna look at this and be like what the FUCK but like lmao dont be afraid to ask me i apparently have no shame

What is something you wish people know about being lgbt+? it’s scary at first because you think “im not normal” but like pray tell me what is normal. do what makes you happy. fuck society

Why are proud to be lgbt+? i’m comfortable with the people i like. i might not be very confident and i have depression, anxiety, self esteem issues, probs adhd or ocd idfk but at least i know if i see a pretty girl or smth im gonna be like wow that girl is pretty and have no bad thoughts about it. it’s just how it be. after a lot of dissecting my past behavior, ive always been this way. you cant change who you are. just accept it

#asks #nev you asked for this #oversharing??? me??? never #lgbt stuff #im gay yall

8 notes · View notes

thcyer · 5 years ago

Text

the interrogation: they’re always watching...

“is this a real two-way mirror?”

—

the inside of the small interrogation room is just as one would expect. a clean metal table that’s cool to the touch, a few equally bitter metal chairs, and the famous two way mirror that only leaves you staring at yourself; it’s just about the most interesting thing in the room. the walls are bland and dull in hue. it’s meant to intimidate not comfort. the truth is expected to be coaxed from those within the four walls. with his less than ideal rambunctious natured childhood, it’s safe to say this isn’t samuel’s first rodeo. he’s found himself in rooms like this more often than he’d care to admit at young age for petty things, civil disobedience and the like. so what makes his stomach feel so uneasy this time around?

he took his designated place on the opposite end of the table, hands folding in on each other carefully. he has nothing to worry about. ultimately his summons for this interrogation has nothing to do with him and he’s aware of that. and yet his knee keeps a slightly nervous bounce as he begins to fiddle with his fingers. any normal person would be a little nervous in police custody, sam tries to remind himself. this is about daisey’s death. the murderer now assumed to be nathaniel ballantyne. only it takes but a few nudges before someone’s yelling jenga! and the entire thing collapses. a killer’s blackmail. the thirty. his secret.

Part One ( You. )

Do you have any criminal history? Anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?

a gentle smile finds its way to pink lips as his nervous ticks dissipate. he’s been conditioned for moments like these with lessons taught by parental figures and the like. he also knew those minor incidents in question were cleared. at the very least buried deep enough so that no one else should find them. after all a diplomat’s son is not meant to be problematic. “no.” he answers calmly. there are no records and there’s certainly nothing he’d want to make them aware of. certainly not if it meant those back home could gain a whiff. they’d be all over him in a heartbeat and he may never see ashmont again. “no I do not.” this time it’s spoken with clarity as his slender frame leans into the table so he can be picked up by the microphone.

How have you spent the few weeks back at college? What have they been like?

all of the events dating back to the beginning of the school year came flooding back to him. oz’s party. the threatening message sent by daisey’s blog. a message that he hadn’t taken seriously enough to begin with. he refused to believe that the contents of said message were true. however it was not merely the discovered fact that daisey is dead, but more importantly that someone knew his secret. at the time it felt impossible. arrogance claimed him for a few weeks and one by one the dominoes began to topple over. those within the thirty were exposed and they were scared, distraught, shamed. he could see it in their faces. in the eyes of their loved ones. in their actions. it was real and only getting worse. the killer was quite literally painting the town red.

his arms retract from the table, lifting hands first, palms to each other, before they settle onto his lap. slender shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug. “the past few weeks have been stressful” he admits with a slow drawl. “it was very nice to see everyone again at first...and then daisey went missing...and” there it is, the fork in the road. it’s a moment he could just take. like that. how would they know? what else would he have to lose? “..then she was found.” but he already decided his path. long before this summons. it’s still a thought though, one that lingers at the back of his mind. what did he have to lose...

“it seemed like everything was returning to normal..at least..as normal as it could be and the art gallery happened...” an event that he’s still extremely upset about. “and now you know... we are placed on this curfew.” it’s unintentional but a hint of spite laced it’s way into his voice upon mention of the curfew. “so yes..” pick your battles sam. “it has been stressful.”

Part Two ( Daisey. )

How did you know Miss. Rutherford? What was the nature of your relationship?

these are routine questions. he’s well aware but in some instances it felt like a waste of time. “the rutherfords are my host family for the exchange program.” and how lucky he is right? that this occurred by random chance and everything is going smoothly. wrong. he couldn’t have taken a bumpier road. it’s not their fault though, no one asked for this. “that is how I got to know daisey.” the woman of the hour that seemed to last forever. sam was fond of daisey so he didn’t always mind being at her beck and call. some instances proved to more hellish or inconvenient than others but growing closer to her was satisfying. she pulled him in like a shiny piece of gold. “daisey and I were friends.” sure he could call it that. it never got the chance to flourish into something else so they remained in the realm of friends. “I got to know her over the past year because I was living with her family.”

Do you remember where you were the night Daisey went missing? If so, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with?

the infamous friday the thirteenth. once feared due to killers like of jason or freddy and monsters among the things going bump in the night. daisey was murdered that night. the irony of it all almost makes his mouth twitch in amusement, how twisted is that? he begins to wonder if it was a planned attack but his expression remains stoic. there’s no reason for falsely incriminating himself because his thoughts ran wild. “yes. I was at the party oz threw after the homecoming game.” the artist reclines in his seat, taking a moment to realign that night. the details don’t take very long to reach the forefront his mind but he allows the pause. “I do not remember exactly what time I arrived, I had already been drinking before I got there with a few other people. I remember dancing and just generally talking to people.” dark brown curls bounce slightly when he shakes his head. “ah, I went outside for a little and spoke with zar.” his roommate now. accused of man-slaughter by daisey’s killer. more irony. “I went inside again a while after that...I helped someone prank honey.”

it’s then that he allows a smile to break on his features. “it was pretty good. we put mayonnaise in this mixture of water, vodka and tequila.” what was not half as amusing was when his partner in the ordeal got punched in the face. at least..it wasn’t amusing for them. “I think it was probably close to two am when I left I...ran into a friend. well.. we are not really friends anymore” and who’s fault was that? sam’s the one truly pushing sutton away. “but I did not want to be there anymore after that.” the final detail that comes to mind forces his jaw to clench. looking back at it now it’s another regretful decision. “I hooked up with angel that night too...” now he hates to admit it, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. angelic flores, the recently revealed mother who had no problem abandoning her poor child. it’s not an action he can ever see himself standing behind. “I think I got home around three or three thirty? I can not remember.”

Did you notice anything strange about Daisey’s behavior the night she went missing? Did you notice anything suspicious about anyone else you ran into that night?

“it was not particularly strange...” he admits, because in truth it wasn’t. daisey drank at these things. she got high sometimes. it wasn’t new but perhaps it felt different. he can recall the hazy smile that splayed across her visage. the lazy uncoordinated movements that stood out from the crowd. daisey had a way of doing that. standing out in a crowd, even when heavily intoxicated. “she was under the influence of something. I do not know what, I hadn’t been with her much that night. I think it was probably close to one am? I know it was past midnight because it was after I came back inside. I had gotten a call at around twelve thirty that I missed I tried calling back, but they did not answer and I saw her maybe....ten or....fifteen minutes after? she was in the main area, I was on my towards the stairs, I heard her saying something but it wasn’t clear at all. I thought I would see her again at home but...” another shrug finishes his sentence as that was truly the last he saw of daisey rutherford alive.

Where were you the night Daisey’s body was recovered?

where he always was. practically every friday night, the tourist found himself at the bar with one of his good friends. “I was at the bar with vi. we usually go there every friday. I think that night I had finally gotten a part of one of the card tricks she was showing me. It was exciting because I usually mess something up. it is a very hard trick. she is very good at it, but I got the first part down...and we haven’t really revisited the trick since..”

How familiar are you with the Ashmont woods? Have you been there often? Have you recently ventured out here? If so, why?

this question snags his attention, thick brows pull together as he leans forward curiously. he hadn’t heard anything about the woods yet. what sort of drop of information is this? a red herring or is it a matter of importance “I have probably only been there once when I around when I first arrived. once or twice.” that’s all he could honestly remember of them. the woods weren’t particularly a place of interest for him. “I have not been there recently no..” why sits at the tip of his tongue, begging to be asked but the police weren’t there to answer questions.

Part Four ( Weekly Events. ) (* switched bc he felt like bein a lil shit at the end)

Did you attend the illegal bonfire? Do you know who organized this event?

“no.” his answer is simple and straight forward. he did not attend the bonfire out of caution for the repercussion should anyone have gotten caught. he did not expect this outcome but he’s glad he hadn’t gone regardless. his head begins to shake in response to the second question but then he’s reminded of a conversation in passing. “I do not think I know exactly who organized it. I remember speaking to danny, he mentioned it, but I do not know if he helped organize anything.”

Did you notice any suspicious activity if you attended the event?

“I did not..because I stayed at home” in apartment six all night. “bath bomb, the cat” he clarifies, his favorite of the apartment’s animals “stared at the wall for a little before chasing her tail and falling over. I do not know if that counts as suspicious activity. she falls over or jumps from high places a lot.”

Do you know Nathaniel Ballantyne? If so, what do you know of him?

nathaniel ballantyne. the ashmont police department’s person of interest. sam can’t say he knows the man well enough to make an accurate judge of his character but the opinion heavy information he does hold doesn’t sit well for nate. “not really.. I have met him a few times..” here’s his second fork in the road. he could sink nate and potentially assist his blackmailer or hope to god that nathaniel and the ominous killer are one in the same and they actually catch him. weighing out the options they both seem one in the same and the win-lose ratio has already been tossed. “I have never gotten particularly friendly vibe from him. he has always kept to himself.” in the dark of the lamar library. “actually,” sam straightens as that visual re-enters his mind from that night. it was brief but it was odd. “I remember something else from the party. I was walking around upstairs and I walked into the library and he was sitting in front of the window by himself in the dark by a game of chess. it was very strange. I couldn’t tell if he was waiting for someone or...something. I did not stay for long. I...had a weird feeling.” he admits partial truths. samuel thayer was not afraid of the strange, seemingly gentle, giant. he can only hope he picked the right road.

Do you know anything about his connection to Daisey Rutherford?

“I know that they obviously knew each other. daisey... was engaged to his brother..uh..I remember they had this thing...like..a sort of rivalry about school or something. I know daisey complained to me about something like that once..” oh the earful of complaints that girl had. some spoken directly. some overheard. the rutherford manor was large but they resided in close enough quarters. “I do not know...I can’t say that I know him well enough to point fingers, but...” his inhale of breath offers a pause before he continues. “I think that reasoning holds the same both ways. I can’t say that I know for sure that he would not do anything.”

Part Three ( the Investigation. ) (* switched bc he felt like bein a lil shit at the end)

Do you have any people you feel the police should look into? Please, let us know who and why.

“just nathaniel I guess...why else would he run?” his lower lip catches between his teeth. admitting it now felt wrong but there’s no turning back. it’s his simplest line of thought and his only way to help. “I do not know...” a stressed sigh over takes him as both hands reach up to smooth over his face. they remain on his cheeks for a moment. his decision has been locked in.

Do you have feelings towards the investigation? Any comments?

“I do have a few comments” and there he goes. still clasped together his hands return to the table top and his gaze locks with detective grant. “I do not understand this curfew or the buddy system. if anything it is only scaring everyone even more. you can not just treat us all like we are children. do you know it’s the children with over protective parents that act out the most?” now he is speaking from personal experience? “I think this is only going to cause more chaos. please consider getting rid of it or making it later..”

thank you for your cooperation.

after what felt like an eon, the interrogation was finally over. he could breathe once more. it wasn’t until he had risen to exit the room that he realized how stuffy it felt. the tension that had risen in the air. it’s just as he’s leaving that he makes his final remark. “is this a real two-way mirror?”

#veritasinterrogation #wrow this is...long #also pre-kidnapping #and uh 👀#OOP #yikes on spikes #this probably also makes zero sense and probs has typos up the yang but it's like three days in the making sO

7 notes · View notes

dukeofriven · 6 years ago

Link

‘The AfD declares autistic climate activist to be “mentally challenged” and firms-up its campaign platform around the idea of publicly ridiculing a teenager.’ Throw their pathetic fear of a teen back in their faces. Mock them at every opportunity. Smear their faces in their own shit until they can’t breathe without opening their mouths to swallow it. Remind them always that they are small and weak and frightened by a 15 year old - jeer them, giggle in their presence them, howl with laughter every time they try and pass their crayon scrawl as policy. Make their every waking second a taunting Mean Girls hell in which they can never be free of the knowledge that everyone knows they’re nothing but a pathetic joke. And every time they try and draw strength from that, to try and don the mantle of the oppressed underdog, punch them in the nose and remind them that their bodies are as fragile as their egos and their ideas. Push them down again and again and again. Whisper in their ear that their Nazis forebears used to get treated like this - until one day they found the courage to stand up for themselves and their beliefs and fight. And then they lost. And then we killed them. And then we displayed their bloated corpses for all the world to jeer. And then we destroyed everything they had built and they were powerless to stop us because these failed, pathetic losers put their faith in beliefs that were wrong. Demonstrably false. Literally untrue. The Reich to last a thousand years never grew old enough to get a driver’s license. The Nazis who were humiliated in the Beer Hall Putsch vowed that from that day forward no one would ever treat them like that again. But we did. Because they’re losers who fail. These are people whose ideology gives them cover for advocating some of the most heinous acts this earth has ever seen. The alt-right, whether they openly identify as Nazis or not, are Nazis, and are in accord with the exact same belief system that advocated for genocide, racial supremacy, patriarchy, antiquated conservatism, and other such debunked delusions even if they distance themselves from the Nazi label. When someone’s ideology gives them cover for being a piece of shit like that then you should oblige and treat them as such. Drag them into the nearest restroom and give them a couple swirlies -shit belongs in the toilet, after all. Alright. Despite my bellicose rhetoric above I am a pacifist at heart - violence ultimately begets more violence. So don’t let them drown. Don’t break any bones. Don’t go pulling off fingers the way you might the wings of a tiny, helpless, pathetic, utterly incapable-of-fighting-back mosquito before carelessly squashing it with the tip of the nail on your pinkie finger. Even though you could. Easily. It would not be hard.

But there’s a difference between perpetuating a cycle of violence by starting a blood feud or spending decades abusing someone emotionally and physically and dragging someone who said “you’re a weak effeminate pansy degenerate who wouldn't exist in our pure society and its not hate speech to want a country for white straight men and women with shared moral values” into a park bathroom and demonstrating certain inaccuracies of that argument by clamming their heads into the urinal and forcing them to eat a urinal cake. It’s not the most intellectually robust rebuttal, but you could rephrase “you’re a weak effeminate pansy degenerate who wouldn't exist in our pure society” as “you’re a stinky doo doo head who sucks and when I grow up I’m gonna be strong enough to throw you into space.” They’re functionally identical in terms of tone, content, self-aggrandizement, and mental acuity. There is no intellectually appropriate response to that kind of infantile argument - these are not intelligent people. I don’t mean ‘lacking in formal education.’ I mean they’re stupid. ‘Burn the blankets to warm the bed’ stupid. Leibowitzian ‘Proud To Be A Cretin’ stupid. ‘Smart Men Stay Ignorant; Leaning’s For Libs’ stupid. Their positions should not be treated as intellectually valid out of a misguided belief that a good intellectual should be open-minded to every idea every time it’s proposed. Sure, absolute-free-speech defenders always willing to normalize Nazi “discourse”, I’ll concede that the world-is-flat guy might have had a right to explain what his beliefs were. In 5000 BC, When nobody had heard them before and we didn’t know what he was going to say. Eight thousand years later, though, indulging his ancestor who’s just going to repeat the same points that were wrong eight millennia ago is lunacy.

A good intellectual knowns when something isn’t worth their time and acts accordingly. Sometimes this means not letting someone fill the air with hate speech out of slavish obligation to letter of freedom of expression instead of its spirit (when someone is granted the freedom to debate the idea that everyone who disagrees with them should be purged, you only harm freedom, not celebrate it.) Sometimes this means force-feeding an advocate of genocide a tasty lunchtime treat of urine and quaternary ammonium compounds while cheerfully wondering aloud what might happen if there’s still unswallowed cake in their mouth and you need to resolve certain biological necessities.

The first mistake we ever made with the alt-right was to leave the whoopee cushion at home, when we should have attended their every rally with an armful and play them constantly every time they tried to speak. “There’s nothing wrong with saying I’m pr-THPPTPHTPHPHHPH proud to be THPPTPHTPHPHHPH be white and to stand up for THPPTPHTPHPHHPH the achieveTHPPTPHTPHPHHPHments of the whitTHPPTPHTPHPHHPH of the whTHPPTPHTPHPHHPH white THPPTPHTPHPHHPH white raTPHRRURURURPHH-P-P-P- whiP-P-P-P whP-P-P whiteP-P-P-P WHITE RACTRRHPRPRP-P-P ... ... ... *cough* ... ... WHITE POWFFFFWWWPWPPRPRPRPRPRPRSQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAKTRRRHHPPPP-PPP-RPPP-PPP-P-P-P-PLIPPPP-THRP plip! We should attend their rallies and events with boxes of red noses, rainbow wigs, and buckets of greasepaint and throw ourselves upon them until we’ve forced them into wearing their true colours. Remember: every SS officer who looked so forbidding in their tailored uniform stank of their own disgusting sweat because all that blackened leather couldn’t breathe and every SS trooper standing in that imposing formation was broiling in their own filth. Nothing but bozos in fetish gear. The vaunted Wehrmacht had their uniforms rot off their bodies in the snows of Stalingrad as they had to strip the dead for scraps and rags, freezing to death, starving to death, because Hitler - the great genius who personally involved himself with the running of his forces almost to a tactical level - he didn’t think they needed to be resupplied. The Nazis lost. The Nazis lost so badly their monuments were ground into dust, their leaders bodies destroyed or abandoned in the mud, the dreams of Germania proven nothing but a dusty model in a museum devoted to cursing the Nazi’s memory. Nothing but a shrine to hubris and grossly over-estimating your own abilities. The legacy of the Nazis is humiliation, shame, and utter fucking failure. Neo-Nazis, this ‘new’ alt-right whose philosophies are all old, have as their heroes men who did nothing but fail, who achieved nothing but to have their life’s work expunged, debased, destroyed, and condemned by the world not just in their time but for generations after. Not misunderstood geniuses but understood buffoons. Never, ever, let them forget this - and never, ever let them try to turn it into a virtue. No ‘we shall rise again’ narratives. No abyss-to-transformation in some bullshit Cambellian hero’s journey. Their past was not a defeat to inspire them to future victory. They are not the underprivileged hurdle jumper who against all odds and obstacles wins gold at the Olympics, they’re the guy on your track team who once pushed so hard on a door marked pull that he fell through the glass and had to get ten stitches, the guy who got so drunk at an out-of-town meet that he shat his bed at the hotel and tried to hide the dirty sheets in his bags and stunk-up the bus ride home until Coach found out and chewed him out in front of the entire team for being the biggest fucking tool in the whole wide world. Not the guy who was a loner in high school but who found like-minded friends in college, started a cool band where they sang about their sucky pasts, and wound-up a rich and famous with legions of adoring fans. Nah, they’re the guy who was a loner in high school, and in college, and in the job at the napkin distribution company, the guy who retired without a party, spent weeks at a time with no one to talk to, and ultimately died alone - not because he was socially awkward or shy or struggled to communicate, but because he was really unpleasant to be around and even those virtuous folk who try and make sure that nobody is lonely gave up on him because he was such a nasty, loathsome, turd of a human being whose only impact on the world was that he improved it by leaving it. That’s the past of the Nazis. That, too, is their future. Never let them forget this. Their past should embarrass them. Mortify them. There’s is the ideology of pathetic losers. When you march against them, raise high above your heads images of Nazi Germany - not rigid columns of well-armed soldiers or shining tanks rolling off the lines, but the images of their ineptitude. The shuffling columns of defeated, broken men. Their burnt tanks, their downed planes, their sunken ships, their pulverized cities, and all the equipment abandoned in panicked withdrawals or through sheer bureaucratic incompetence. Show images of Jews defiant, the simple act of their still drawing breath spit in the eye of those who thought to see them erased. Humiliate the Nazis again and again and again. They. Failed. The Jews endured, survived, flourished - won. The conquered nations of Europe rebuilt their cultural wonders and their ruined homes and brought back their stolen treasures. They won. The disposed Roma preserved their ways of life despite the will of an entire conquering empire set against them. They won too. The queer communities persecuted for their ‘deviancy’ not only survived they reshaped the post-war world into a place that could no longer sideline them in history. Another victory. The Nazis lost. The Nazi’s failed so completely that they lost not only the territory they had tried to gain but their own nation lay shattered at their feet - politically, socially, economically, spiritually. The Great and Powerful Nazi Party so failed its own people that Germany was sundered into West Germany, East Germany, and Eastern Prussia, promptly swallowed whole by the Societs - the trauma from that lingers generations on. The Nazis not only failed to achieve any of their goals - they failed in the promise made by any such ideology: in joining us we will protect you. They did not just fail to make Germany greater, they literally destroyed it, and left it in pieces. So when you march against the alt-right, these neo-Nazis, Hoist photos of the bloated corpses of the hanged at Nuremberg - their swollen faces distorted in death. Chant the cry “Morons, Not Martyrs!” Remind every alt-right shit-eating soul that they were nothing, are nothing, will always be nothing but failures, losers, and followers of stupid, incompetent, incapable fools. They were, are, shall always, can only ever be wrong. “These are your role models? This is your dream? Failures! Failures! Failures!” “Be A Nazi To Lose It All” Do not, for a single solitary second, treat their ideas as grown-up. Do not, for a moment, give them the cover of adulthood, maturity, or sober discourse. Do not, for one second of time, treat them with respect so long as they seek to hold power over you, to be feared by you, to be thought of as an enemy and not something foul but forgettable to be scrapped off your shoe. Never give them an inch of fear to feed their starving egos. The man who said that rocks were soft as butter and as edible as custard would be given no weight as a person of substantive ideas - Nazis deserve the same derision. And do not allow them a moment of privacy to brood on the indignities you heap upon them, to be like a teen sulking in their bedroom crafting fantasies about how one day they’ll be proven right and everyone will be sorry. Drag them out into the light again and again and again, give them no moment of peace, allow no instant of time to pass when you are not holding images of their ideology’s worthlessness and failure above their heads. No hiding. No sulking. No second to plot or brood or dream. Stake them to the earth, keep them forever in the light, and pummel them with pie until even they can not deny that they are nothing but clowns worthy only of mockery, ridicule, and endless savage laughter.

#climate change #germany #afd #alternative für deutschland (afd)#greenpeace #environment #nazis #alt-right #greta thunberg #neo-nazis #Hitler #Mean Girls #fart sounds #eat shit and die #long post #autism #tw anti-autism

2 notes · View notes

suredahlia-arc · 6 years ago

Text

hello hello ! i’m daisy ( 19 // est // she/her ) and my mind has been tricked by florence into thinking it’s 7am when it’s actually,, 4:30pm. i’m in the mountains so we shouldn’t be having it as hard as other places, but everyone is still worried abt falling trees and such ! all my suitemates decided to go be storm-chasers ( every single one of them ? ), so i could be living my best life rn, but i’d rather be writing up an intro for a character i have tried to play over four times then the rp died after,, like,, a day. bless. more below !!

♪ { MARINA DIAMANDIS. FEMALE. MARINA (AND THE DIAMONDS). }Oh shit. Is that BUY THE STARS by DAHLIA ANGELIS on the radio right now?! I stan, omg. SHE’S that INDIE-POP solo artist who’s TWENTY-SEVEN years old. They’ve been in the game for EIGHT YEARS and have THREE ALBUMS out right now. I think they’re very VERSATILE and INTUITIVE, but for some reason they come off as OBSESSIVE and CYNICAL in the tabloids. You mind if I turn this up? daisy. 19. est. she/her.

first, i feel inclined to say why i put “and the diamonds” in parentheses bc without context i either look super uninformed or like a total douchebag?? basically she’s going by just “marina” now but i didn’t know how wide-spread that knowledge was yet and technically all of her work still has “and the diamonds” so i was like “hm. parentheses.” and there’s ur explanation ! onto the intro:

BACKSTORY

TRIGGERS: extreme misogyny, brief mention of gaslighting/emotional abuse, briefly implied physical abuse

so i have been waiting to play a bitch inspired by the stepford wives for forever. if i ever actually finished books that weren’t assigned, wbk i’d read that bitch. but we settle for the 1975 movie. there’s ur preface.

i often get way too caught up in the story of the parents and wind up making just intros like,,, a novella, so i’m gonna do my best to skim over them and go more in-depth when i write the bio later on!!

so dahlia’s mom is inspired by neely “i’m a BIG STAR!” o’hara from ‘the valley of the dolls’ and her dad is, ofc, inspired by walter “no fun quotes or super extra™ monologues” everhart from, you guessed it, ‘the stepford wives (1975)’

just as a very brief explanation as to why “i’m a BIG STAR” wound up in the neighborhood she would, typical fall from glory, first manager whisked her away, “fell in love”, moved to a neighborhood where 95% of the women only found joy in cooking and cleaning

maybe if you HAD a fucking business...

i’ve made this joke so many times i’ve memorized this entire scene.

only one person irl has ever genuinely laughed.

it was my mom.

through a series of gaslighting, emotional manipulation, and groupthink, dahlia’s father gradually got her mother to buy into all of it and have strong opinions on the best laundry detergent.

so this was a strange place to raise a child, amirite ? i mean, you got women discussing tide vs. bounty while baking cake, you got men being treated like kings – we over here in the stereotypical 1950s.

they stanned super small neighborhoods in wales, but should they have ?

so she had a very skewed idea of what was acceptable and what wasn’t. the boys were treated extremely “boys will be boys!” like – like... more than they are when we talk abt the problem with that sentence – and the girls were all wives in training.

it was acceptable for boys and men alike to do whatever they wanted without asking the other. it was acceptable for boys and men alike to complain over anything they wanted. it was acceptable for boys and men to do all of these things that, if we heard about them today, we’d be like “jail??” or, at the very least “leave.”

it was all good and well though!! but one of the four (4) duties dahlia’s mother had was taking care of the child (the other three were cooking, cleaning, and pleasing)

you see, she was used to dahlia’s father blowing things out of proportion when it came to herself – it was normal and healthy!! but she was not used to him blowing things out of proportion on their child, aka dahlia (you see, this is what happens when i start talking about the parents too much)

the first time just warranted a brief “hey, maybe don’t.” the second time warranted a conversation that ended poorly. third warranted an empty threat of leaving that ended poorly. fourth warranted an actual threat that ended poorly. fifth and a bitch was like “ok where r we and how do we get out!!”

after finding her way out, she settled with dahlia in a rly crummy motel, but what else are u gonna do when u only have the few dollars u managed to steal from ur guy??

y’all see i’m already talking in perspective of the parents i hate myself

so dahlia’s mom phoned so many old friends and relatives. unfortunately, as a previous neely “the whole WORLD loves me!!” o’hara who just seemed to drop off the face of the earth, almost everyone was like “bitch tf no you ain’t stayin here”

the last person she phoned was her mom, aka dahlia’s grandmother, down in athens. reluctantly, a bitch was like “fine.”

so dahlia was ~13 by now. her mom found work as a maid bc she was rly good at cleaning and also had no clue how she would ever get a good acting career back (although, mind you, you know a bitch went out for some community theater plays). her grandmother was able to live off the inheritance her late husband, dahlia’s grandfather, left behind – however, she also had a work ethic that drove her to just... do whatever she deemed the right thing to do at the time.

an old woman doing some odd jobs?? you know it!!

dahlia learned how to speak greek which is great bc you know what?? i duolingo’d that bitch and that owl is a jerk who wouldn’t let me get past “ο άντρας” even tho i spelled it!! right!! i had so many ppl compare what i spelled and what the answer was and i’m still bitter!!

anyway.

but she was also basically trained by that community to keep everything inward??

this is a musician rp so you know what she did??

SHE TAUGHT HERSELF TO PLAY PIANO AND WROTE SONGS!!

was a myspace queen tbh. technically speaking, she has more work out there than the three listed albums (i mean, we got mermaid v. sailor, the crown jewels, etc., etc., bUT)

decided “bitch i’m gonna make smth of this” and,,, did. so when she was 19 ‘the family jewels’ was released and,, like,, she decided “wow time to go be an american!!! i love bald eagles!!!”

so i figure the rest is kind of history?? i think i’ll be going in chronological order with the albums (in that a few years after that ‘electra heart’ was released, then ‘froot’, then a hiatus which we do NOT stan, then coming back with a leak ksksksks. BUT i may switch up electra and froot i’m not quite sure yet??)

ya!

PERSONALITY

VERSATILE: ok so she never really does things quite the same ? alexa, play ‘can’t pin me down’ by marina (and the diamonds) dahlia angelis. musically speaking, she really loves experimenting with different sounds. overall, she is still considered indie-pop, but we had some good new-wave pop in ‘the family jewels’, we had some good electropop in ‘electra heart’, we had some good general versatility in ‘froot’ (compare the song ‘froot’ to ‘immortal’ like we were boppin then we were havin an existential crisis). does not like keeping things the same in her music. does not like being compared to other artists bc?? everyone!! is different!! generally speaking, she’s just a very?? open person?? not as in emotionally open, open book – all that, as in willing to try pretty much anything?? as long as it’s not her actual routine, if a wrench is thrown in her plans, a bitch don’t care as long as the wrench ain’t smth dumb. here for a good time, not a long time.

INTUITIVE: ok so she got really into trying to read people and tbh psychoanalyze them ( alexa, play ‘savages’ by marina (and the diamonds) dahlia angelis ) after leaving that. town. with a name she doesn’t even recall?? wbk a bitch would speak up abt it if she could so that all of the women could be fckin saved but she j doesn’t remember anything abt it!! other than the environment in general!! what’s the name?? besides somewhere in wales, what’s the location?? she doesn’t know!! mainly bc i don’t!! and also for the sake of her not actually saying anything abt it willingly!! anyway!! she really does her best to read people and situations in order to analyze like?? the safety aspect, the other person’s stance, etc. doesn’t always work, but she tries. is pretty good at it, but no pro.

OBSESSIVE: ok so y’all see up there me talking abt routines?? there are two (2) ways in which girly is obsessive. first, a literal manner. routines that need to be done so the world doesn’t fall apart. i mean, we stan obscured brain chemistry, but we also stan horrible environments that just exacerbate it, even into adulthood, in the end ( alexa, play ‘obsessions’ by marina (and the diamonds) dahlia angelis. ) (also, i feel i should clear the possible iffy-ness this would have by saying that i’ve got ocd and will, therefore, be portraying it in a manner similar to mine so that it doesn’t come across as offensive to anyone else who may have a different form?? but most of the ‘routines’ won’t be very prominent in interactions). second, music!! when she gets started on a new project, -the mask vc- try ta’ stop [her]! -end vc- . will live in the studio until everything is complete and perfect. will spend her free time writing lyrics she knows she’ll never use bc?? why not?? gotta get that practice in!! can also apply to any other project types, but ofc the main ones would be music related so??

CYNICAL: ok. who’s gonna have a positive worldview after growing up where she did?? ( alexa, play ‘hermit the frog’ by marina (and the diamonds) dahlia angelis ) who’s gonna stan that?? that said, there is not a single genuinely good person in this world ( alexa, play ‘savages’ by marina (and the diamonds) dahlia angelis again ) if u ask her like?? not only did she already have that view after coming to her senses but?? now she knows about terrorists, about people from the usa who are SUPPOSED to be the good guys killing innocent ppl from ‘enemy territories’ for fun, ppl assaulting and killing minorities just bc they’re not like them, etc., etc., etc. convinced no one is inherently good. rly has a love/hate relationship with life ksksksks

HEADCANONS

a lot of these kind of tie into personality tbh??

literally knows everything about every cleaning product ever. ask her about the pros and cons of any and she will tell you. she’ll also tell you when it was manufactured, the ceo of the company that created it at the time, what went in it to make it, etc., etc., etc. knows so much.

kind of going off of that, actually really good at cooking and baking?? she rarely does it willingly, but will make a hell of a chocolate soufflé.

TRIGGER: IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT - i don’t want to go too far into this bc it’s very triggering content to many ppl (and even to ppl who it isn’t, it’s j?? not good.), but.... i mean.... the boys in her formative environment were literally encouraged to do whatever they wanted and they didn’t need permission?? END TRIGGER.

i have a whole-ass routine already figured out. there are a lot of facets obviously, so i’ll just mention a few?? but count them all as one headcanon to be fair.

sets an alarm to get into bed at 1:11am bc it’s a good number but 11:11 is usually too early. sets an alarm for 11:11am to wake her up. will chill in bed if she’s awake before then but it has yet to go off. only exceptions are when she’s working on something she deems urgent.

that said, good numbers are 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 17, 18, 21, etc. no rhythm to it, but i wasn’t gonna go?? up until?? infinity??

if there are two doors that are both available to be opened and closed (aka not one of those “enter through this one, exit through this one”), will always enter through the right and exit through the left.

we don’t stan sidewalk cracks!!

a lot of superstition plays into these. but?? loves black cats. they’re chill.

i have a stats page coming that has more so!!

during the eh era, be it the last one or the one before that, decided to method act while she was still writing the songs ksksksks. that’s going to go into some of her more specific connections.

a bitch will both fight and not fight. got ‘the family jewels’ attitude back and we stan!!

was obviously able to write the ‘housewife’ archetype songs from her own personal experience ksksksks. didn’t rly have to dive into the stereotype. j knew it already.

more?? later??

CONNECTION IDEAS

so i have a few specific ones that are attached to a different blog (u kno one of the ones that died) that i’ll be moving over here, but here are some of the ones that stuck out more than others – also, all are open to any gender!:

UPDATE: wc page is here!

during the eh era while she was ‘method acting’ (we hate.), she knew this muse was in a relationship but was still like?? “hey let’s go have a meaningless ons” bc we stan "homewrecker”! (can have a number of muses!!)

a relationship that really didn’t work out in the end. the other kept trying to make things better so they would stay together. inspired by “buy the stars” (one muse)

the first celebrity whose discography or filmography she got really into before moving to america. would’ve had to have been around for longer than eight years. slightly inspired by “hollywood” (one muse)

ok this one. makes me laugh. literally just someone who always gets her mistaken for someone else – it doesn’t even have to look like her. 100% inspired by “hollywood” ( oh my god! you look just like shakira! no, no – you’re catherine zeta! ) (open to two muses)

she’s not known for a good reputation, but she’s also not known for a bad one. this muse wants to turn her to the dark side and make her become everything she never wanted to be?? so very similar to ‘the bad influence’ connection, j w/ a slightly different connotation on dahlia’s end. inspired by “oh no!” (open to two muses)

these bitches were either friends or love interests once, but things fell apart (either mutually or on the other’s side like?? i don’t want to godmod but for the song’s sake). dahlia is,, bad abt forgiveness,, but there have been enough apologies. inspired by “forget” (open to one muse)

dahlia has a very keen interest in this person. whether it’s infatuation or literally just interest, god only knows! obviously goes deeper than that but i’m horrible at explanations. suffice it to say, inspired by “immortal”

ok!! so now j some general ones!!

best friend

ride or die

drinking buddy

fwb

ons

exes

enemies for whatever reason

frenemies

collab partner

muse for any of her songs?

etc., etc., etc. !

LIKE THIS OR HMU IF U WOULD LIKE TO PLOT !

u can also find me on discord @ john donne’s whore #5590

#at40:intro #this took sm longer than i was expecting #ALSO!! i realize i put in. six headcanons. but i am too akin to honest abe i cannot tell a lie i'll only be counting it as five in my point #s bless.

7 notes · View notes