#i was going to try and use this for gen week too but i couldn't think of what day to use haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sebscore · 2 years ago

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rubyyy i have an idea for your gen-z driver series! when you are free, maybe you can write about when lil miss just got into f1 and had many people doubted her just for her to nail her rookie season like the goat sir Lewis Hamilton did in his. feel free to tweak it however you want. I just thought it would be cool to see more off the racing side of gen-z driver. :))))

and i really enjoy your writings, keep them coming but also don't stress out too much about them as well :)

WELCOME TO THE STRANGE WORLD

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: sexism. swearing. based this one on the 2018 grid, cause I imagine her joining the grid that year. christian horner & helmut marko.

author's note: this got me immediately inspired!! It's also the first time I tackle the racing aspect of the series so I hope it's a bit accurate and that it is enjoyable x

• • • • • • •

''Do you feel the pressure going into this week's race?'' The reporter asked her, a polite smile on his face.

Y/N carefully adjusted the mic attached to her cheek. ''Uh, definitely,'' she nervously chuckled as it was her first F1 press conference, ''there have been a lot of reactions, both negative and positive, so I do feel a lot of eyes on me at the moment.''

To say that there had been a lot of reactions was an understatement. The announcement of the female race car driver joining the F1 grid had become the #1 topic on several social media platforms and even international news channels had broadcasted about the ''controversial'' arrival of the young woman.

Various notable figures in the motorsport world had also voiced their opinion on the new face on the grid. There were many positive reactions, for example, Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff saying: ''It's a step in the right direction. Many young girls will see her race and get more interested in the sport, which will hopefully motivate them to start karting.''

Susie Wolff, former development driver for Williams, also showed her enthusiasm. ''I think Y/N is the perfect role model for all the young girls who watch F1 at home. We've been following her closely the last few years and she's proved that she can compete with the big guys, I'm very proud and I can't wait for her performances this season.''

Unfortunately, there had also been less positive feedback. Red Bull Motorsport advisor, Helmut Marko, had questioned whether she would be able to handle the ''physicalities'' the sport asked of a driver. ''I hope I'm wrong, but I wouldn't be surprised if she would be replaced by the second race.''

His Red Bull colleague, Christian Horner, had also made some sensitive comments about the young woman. He recalled his first meeting with her, stating he thought she was one of the grid girls and that it would be tough as she's ''entering a man's sport''.

Y/N had been upset with key figures of the sport making such statements about her, but she had heard worse throughout her racing career. Men like Horner were stuck in old times.

''Sebastian, how do you feel about a female joining F1?'' Both Y/N and Sebastian internally cringed at the rookie being referred to as a 'female', trying to not let it show on their faces.

The German collected the right words before answering. ''I'm very happy that Y/N is sitting here next to us,'' he smiled at her, ''I think her being on the grid and competing alongside us, is going to bring a lot of positive changes that should've been happening a long time ago. I've known her for some years now, so maybe I'm biased, but I couldn't think of a better person joining the line-up.''

''Thank you.'' Y/N mumbled, grown shy by Sebastian's praises. He had been involved in her career since her humble karting beginnings, wanting to guide her as he knew a lot of people would try to stop her from flourishing in the sport.

The journalist then put his focus on the other world champion sitting at the panel. ''Lewis, you share the same opinion as Sebastian?''

''I agree with Seb, it's nice to see that progress is being made in diversing the sport and she's here, because she deserves to be here.'' Lewis' answer showed his disagreement with the people who were convinced that the woman's arrival to F1 was nothing more than a statement to the FIA.

Y/N wasn't ignorant and knew her claiming an F1 seat would bring a lot of publicity, not only to her, but her team as well. However, they wouldn't risk losing millions of euros, because they simply wanted to make a point that women can competitively drive as well.

''I've seen her drive, we've all seen her drive and you can't deny that she has a huge talent.'' Lewis concluded his answer, sending a soft smile her way.

The reporter who asked the question directed his attention back to the young woman. ''Y/N, it must be great to hear those positive words from such seasoned drivers.'' He said to her, his hands pointing towards the two World Champions.

She shyly nodded her head, feeling the gazes of everyone in the room on her. ''Yeah, it's, uh, very nice of them.''

''It's the truth.'' Sebastian chuckled.

''That's P11 tomorrow, Y/N! Good job, we're proud of you over here.'' Her engineer announced over the radio, letting the driver know her qualifying session was over.

She pressed her radio button. ''Thank you so much, guys! A good start!'' She enthusiastically exclaimed, delighted about her team being happy with quali.

They had greeted her back into the garage with an applause and many headpats, congratulating her on her first ever F1 qualifier. ''Let's discuss now.'' Her coach put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the team's briefing room.

It hadn't lasted long. The team was overall very satisfied with how the qualifying session had gone and didn't have much feedback for the rookie.

''Of course it would be great to score points, but finishing P11 is the realistic standing tomorrow.'' Her team principal's words had taken her by surprise, expecting them to want to score as many points as possible at the race tomorrow.

Y/N wasn't too sure if that was the genuine opinion her team had about the next day or if they thought that she wouldn't be able to make any overtakes. Whatever it was, the dilemma clouded her mind as she walked through the paddock, ready to go back to her hotel and unwind.

However, an arm pulled her out of her thoughts, making the rookie flinch at the sudden touch. ''What the heck,'' she hastily turned towards the person, ''Seb, don't scare me like that.'' Y/N calmed down seeing the German man grinning at her, Britta standing next to him.

''You looked like you were overthinking.'' He had seen the frown on her face as she passed the Ferrari hospitality, immediately knowing something was on her mind. ''Starting P11 is good for your first race, the best of the rookies.'' Sebastian figured it was related to the qualifying session.

''No, I'm happy with my starting position.'' She assured him, shaking her head.

The Ferrari driver furrowed his eyebrows, being confused. ''Then what is it? Did someone say something to you?''

Y/N glanced around the paddock, making sure no one of her team or a reporter was standing near them. ''I just, uh, well- during the briefing, they basically said that they don't expect me to make any overtakes and that I just need to try to keep my position.'' She explained to the duo, both listening attentively.

''They're already underestimating you?'' Britta commented, shocked they wouldn't encourage her to at least try to overtake as many cars as she can.

Sebastian agreed with his friend. ''A team telling their driver to not score points is the weirdest thing I've heard in years.'' He said to Britta, a frown gracing his face.

He turned towards the young woman. ''Don't listen to them, okay? You pass as many fucking cars as you can, alright?'' It almost looked like he was scolding her.

The girl nodded her head, an appreciative smile on her face. ''You know I will.''

''I love the confidence.'' Britta laughed, patting her back.

''Don't think about it too much, Y/N. You're gonna do great tomorrow, I'm sure of it.'' Sebastian ruffled her hair, a sincere tone in his voice.

Y/N simply smiled at both of them, and thanked them for their support. ''I'm gonna go back to my hotel now, but I'll see you tomorrow then.'' She bid them goodbye, waving as she walked through the exit gates.

She could see and feel the condescending stares as she waited on the grid before the start of the race, some people didn't know how to be subtle. She had her headphones on, blasting music through them so she could drown out all of the negative thoughts.

A tap on her shoulder brought her eyes from the ground to the face of a semi-looking concerned Kimi. She paused her song and took the headphones off, ready to listen to what the older man had to say. ''Yeah?''

''I can hear your song.'' Kimi pointed at his own ears, visualizing his words.

Y/N's eyes widened, her worried expression altering into one of embarrassment. ''Oh, sorry, I'll turn it down.'' She apologized, immediately grabbing her phone to change the volume.

''No, uh, is okay,'' he told her, ''you good?''

She was stunned by his question, awkwardly staring at him for a few seconds before answering. ''Yes, I'm good.'' Kimi always kept it short, she figured she should do the same.

''Don't be nervous,'' the Finnish driver continued, looking into her eyes, ''people want to see you do bad, prove them wrong.''

She had met the man a handful of times before, but they had never talked this much with each other. Kimi kept to himself and she wanted to be respectful of that, not wanting to accidentally cross one of his boundaries.

He wasn't a man of many words (at least sober) so she appreciated his advice very much, knowing he wouldn't tell her this if he didn't think she could actually prove them wrong.

''Thanks.''

''No worry.'' A small assuring smile was found on his face, making the grimaces of her critics seem like nothing.

''Y/L easily passes the Renault, moving up to P10.'' The commentary of David Croft sounded as she overtook Sainz, going from P11 to P10.

Her team's pit crew cheered in the garage, watching the spectacle on the screen. ''Keep pushing, Y/N! We're in the points.'' Her engineer told her over the radio.

''Hehe, understood.'' She chuckled, proud of her smooth overtake.

She managed to pass the Mclaren of Vandoorne in the same lap, falling behind the Mercedes of Bottas and the Renault of Hulkenberg who was doing his best to keep his seventh position in the race.

The pair was too busy challenging each other that they didn't see the car of the female driver coming through, passing both of them when they left a gap. ''Y/L jumps ahead of both of them! She jumped Bottas and Hulkenberg, moving up to P7! What a stellar performance of the rookie driver!''

People couldn't believe their eyes as she passed the Mercedes, undoubtedly one of the fastest cars on the grid compared to her team's midfield one.

''Bloody amazing, Y/N! The Red Bull is too far up to catch, but defend for your life now!'' P6 wasn't possible anymore as she went into the last lap, Max's car being quicker and having fresher tyres than her.

The last lap almost went by in a haze, the young woman scared something would ruin the beautiful moment for her, but that never came. ''Y/N Y/L comes across the line to celebrate her dream debut and she becomes the first woman in over 40 years to score points in a Grand Prix!''

She parked her car behind Max's, her hands on her helmet as if it were her head. Y/N sat in disbelief as reality dawned on her. You scored points in your first F1 race, the sentence played on a loop in her head.

''Oi! Little Miss scoring points on her debut!'' An Australian accent pulled her out of her thoughts, several pats on her helmet making her look up. ''You passed the Mercedes? Fucking amazing!'' He exclaimed as he saw the silver car parked behind her.

''Daniel, can you help me get out? My body is in shock, I think.'' Y/N awkwardly chuckled, a bit embarrassed about not being able to get out of her car on her own at the moment.

Fortunately, the Red Bull driver didn't see the big problem and helped her stand up, supporting her underarms.

The support turned into a congratulating hug, the Australian swaying her side-to-side. ''Welcome to Formula One, baby!'' He loudly exclaimed.

Y/N laughed at his antics, touched by his excitement for her good result. ''Thanks, Ricciardo.''

''Good overtake there.'' Valtteri patted her helmet with his hand, complimenting her. She bowed her head in appreciation. ''Thank you.''

Her and Daniel followed the Mercedes driver into the cooldown room, the latter handing her an ice-cold water bottle from the table. ''What place did you get?'' Y/N asked Daniel, turning to him.

''P4,'' he sighed, ''but I got fastest lap, so a little redemption.'' The Red Bull driver laughed it off, at least happy he got an extra point for the championship standings.

A pat on her back made her look back, being met with a sweaty Charles. ''Hey, man.'' She greeted him with a side-hug.

''Saw you got P7, congrats.'' The pair had been teammates the year before at Prema Racing so they have a good friendship with each other. ''Thanks, how did it go for you?'' Y/N was curious about her fellow rookie's debut race.

He shrugged his shoulders. ''P13, but only because 5 people retired.'' Charles downplayed it, glimpsing at the ground.

''Cheer up, Charlito! It's only the first one of the season.'' She tried comforting him, not wanting him to be down about his result.

Charles just smiled and moved on, ready to go back to his team and discuss everything. The rest of the drivers, except the top 3, followed swiftly. Y/N received a grand welcome back in her garage, it almost seemed like she had won the World Championship. She had a brief discussion about the race and her team prepared her for the post-race interviews.

Surprisingly, the interviews had gone well and not one discriminating question was asked. She mainly received a lot of congratulations and one female reporter even thanked her for her race performance as it would inspire many young girls watching it. Y/N had almost teared up during the specific interview, not expecting anyone to do that.

The rookie was walking to her driver's room when a call of her name stopped her in her tracks. Lewis jogged up to her, greeting her with a big embrace. ''Good job, you did so well!'' He told her with a huge smile on his face.

''Thank you, Lewis.'' Her head felt warm, the older man making her a little flustered.

''And this is only the beginning, you know? You showed everyone today that you deserve to be here, truly amazing!'' He continued praising her.

Y/N grinned at him. ''Thank you so much, that means a lot to me.''

''The three of us were watching it back in the cooldown room, like waiting to see in which position you came in.'' Him, Sebastian and Kimi had attentively observed the screen that replayed the race, interested in knowing how the young woman had performed.

She was touched by Lewis' words, honored that three World Champions had looked out for her and wanted to know her result. ''Oh my god, that's- wow, that's really cool.'' Y/N awkwardly laughed, not knowing how to give a proper response all of a sudden.

''Anyway, congrats and celebrate it well,'' he made a move to leave before visibly remembering something, ''oh, yeah, Seb asked me to tell you that he'd come by your driver's room.'' Lewis conveyed Sebastian's message.

''Oh, great, I'll, uh, see you in two weeks then.'' She bid him goodbye and she was on her way again, hoping the German wasn't already waiting for her there.

Fortunately for her, Sebastian wasn't there yet and she had the time to change into her casual wear so she could leave the circuit and go straight to the airport afterwards to go back home.

Three knocks on her door stopped her scroll through social media and she called for her guest to come in, not having the energy to get up from her couch.

She watched an energetic Sebastian walk into her driver's room, practically running to give her a hug. ''I told you that you could do it! P fucking 7!'' He exclaimed, excitedly.

''Congrats to you for winning!'' She retorted back, not having had the chance yet to congratulate him on his GP win.

''Thank you, honey.'' He sat down next to her on the couch.

''I would have loved to see the faces of everyone on your team the moment you passed Carlos, it must have been priceless.'' Sebastian smirked, thinking of what she had told him the day before. ''And the double overtake? You couldn't have had a better race.''

''Oh my god, I couldn't believe it, Seb! Like I finished in front of a Mercedes? Wow, just wow!'' Sebastian laughed at her enthusiasm, imagining how great she must feel now.

The winner of the day scratched his voice. ''Kimi said how nervous you looked before the race and I'm not gonna lie, I was a bit worried about you,'' he had lowered his voice, different from his loudness of before, ''but you dealt with the pressure perfectly and you didn't let it affect your race. I'm very proud of you.'' His sincerity and expression of pride almost brought tears to her eyes, the words of her idol and mentor meaning a lot to her.

''Thank you, Seb,'' a shy smile graced her face, ''that means a lot to me, I couldn't have done it without you.'' She thanked him.

''No, it was your hard work that got you here.'' He argued, not wanting to take any sort of credit for her accomplishments. ''And maybe a little of my money, but you know.'' Sebastian jokingly added, not able to help himself from teasing the younger one.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the comment. ''Always so humble! Red Bull Seb made an appearance for a second there.''

''He's still in here, I just need to keep him in check.''

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#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #sebastian vettel x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #female f1 driver

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bnecaz · 5 months ago

Text

Girlfriend privileges

Lottie Matthews x F!reader

Summary: After Jackie passes the lead to Lottie for a few weeks, the rest of the team isn't so happy

It felt more like a nightmare to be honest

while the girls were spending the last of their energy every day training all day and arriving at their respective homes only in the early hours of the morning, some getting scolded by their parents but in the end it would pay off, it probably couldn't get any worse

Jackie Taylor was in charge of being the leader this year, but she didn't have the golden patience to be the leader, you and Shauna had a little fight a while ago for a silly reason, and in training you had to train together forcibly, and Jackie didn't know deal with that

" Don't you look where you are, you idiot?" Shauna shouts from the other side of the lawn, attracting the attention of Laura Lee and Natalie who sighs "Fuck you shauna" you retaliate rolling your eyes" Are you too busy looking at your girlfriend or some shit?" "Stop!" Jackie screams when she sees how close you and Shauna are, her screams making no difference

"Maybe you should go and have sex with the boys your best friend looks for you, that way your mouth will be too busy for you to talk shit" you retort "Randy, his name isn't he?" You step back when you see Jackie running to at least try to alleviate the situation that seemed like it couldn't get any worse

Shauna approaches you and for a second it looks like she's going to hit you, then dramatically Jackie jumps in front of you and lands embarrassingly on the ground before Shauna can take it out on you, a loud scream echoing out and making everyone on the lawn look at Jackie, damn it. she looked destroyed there

"You are an idiot Jackie?" natalie screams

and this caused a lot of problems, since the beginning of the year, the team wouldn't stop fighting, every time they got together and it became a law, not to put you or taissa with shauna, or it could turn into a murder, and jackie was the only person who put order there

Jackie's leg seemed to be twisted, it was a real horror, on one side Laura Lee was praying, on the other Misty was trying to touch Jackie's leg and the coach was roughly pushing her away, the rest of the girls looked like statues as they looked at you and Shauna

Jackie made all the girls gather at her hospital bed, receiving sighs and low curses over her, it looked like a wake and no one even knew what they were doing there

And it was worse than some thought, she started giving a speech about you and shauna having to be friends and some shit like that, and started saying that she would probably never walk again that it showed she cared about the team "That doesn't even make sense" Taissa says and is interrupted "Please let me finish"

"I'm going to choose someone to be the leader" "For just a while of course, no one can replace me" Mari closes her eyes and rubs her temples when she sees laura lee raise her hand

"And the chosen person is the most trustworthy here, I would choose Laura Lee but...I think she is too good for that?" Jackie gives Laura Lee a smile when she sees her frown with a disappointed expression

"Lottie"

" You have got to be kidding"

𐂂

"Mari, you're not catching the ball, try again now with Gen"

That was the phrase that Lottie kept repeating over and over for the last 2 hours of training that seemed to turn into 10 hours, the team formation being extremely confused without Jackie, which was to be expected.

"I swear if I hear that word again I'll have wished I was Jackie" Van says, leaning on the goal rail

"We can't go on like this, I know Jackie was too important to lead us, but nationals are coming up" Lottie murmurs breathlessly "I'm going to have to be tough with you guys"

"What the fuck is this lottie?" nat starts to protest running over to lottie and rolling her eyes " You think you're fucking Tommy Shelby?" Natalie says raising an eyebrow

"Who is this" "It doesn't matter"

" The next person who loses the ball will have to walk the length of the pitch 3 times" Lottie says firmly

All the girls sigh but Lottie is unfazed by the curses, insults and even things almost being thrown in her face directly by Van "Are you kidding me?" Taissa snorts and looks at you "Your girlfriend is crazy! We should do some ritual to get Jackie back"

"Nothing to complain about, let's see if Mari doesn't lose the ball now" lottie and mari exchange looks and mari gives an arrogant smile and rolls her eyes, positioning herself while lottie returns to her seat

Training continues and the ball passes from Natalie to Mari, for the first time in the game, and Lottie raises an eyebrow, analyzing

You run to the other side and try to pull the ball from mari, who was already close to your goal, putting strength in your legs that you swear are going to roll over. Now you get closer to mari's legs and are about to turn the ball over when mari gives you One final push and the ball lands in the goal easily, damn it.

The whistle blows and you whimper looking at the girls running to the water fountain, you run to Lottie "I don't want to do this shit" you mumble, shaking your head in denial repeatedly "You are not going" Your eyes widen in genuine surprise and you raise an eyebrow

While the rest of the girls enter, some talking and others panting drinking water, Laura Lee is the first to arrive and sits on the floor "Why isn't she running yet" Shauna's voice resonates "She doesn't need to run" silence

"What!" Mari shouts entering "But would I have to run?" she snorts, crossing her arms "I changed my mind, let's start with who lost the ball for the first time" Lottie says firmly

"If that's so then, she should start in the last training she let Laura Lee fall" they all nod and look at you "It's been a long time, just accept it, besides, Laura Lee is always in the front getting in the way"

Laura Lee widens her eyes and looks away "No offense" she looks at Laura Lee and raises her thumb which is ignored

" That was 4 days ago" Taisa argues to Lottie and she just denies it "That doesn't justify it"

"You're only doing this because she's your girlfriend"

"No, she has this privilege because she's my girlfriend, it's different" Lottie says bluntly

"lottie!"

#yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #yellowjacket x reader #yellowjackets fic #lottie mathews #lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader

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vyglitchcraft · 1 year ago

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Can you write something on MK1 Smoke trying to give the reader a kiss but is nervous about it because it would be their first kiss?

"Toasty!"

MK1 Tomas "Smoke" Vrbada x Gen!reader

Content: short fic, fluff, tooth rotting cuteness, SFW

Plot: first kiss with Smoke and another Lin Kuei ninja

You and Tomas only started dating a week ago, you being his first and him being your first. The two of you never exactly kissed, Tomas always sort of smacked his mask against your forehead as a faux kiss of sorts. He saw Kuai and Bi do that with their dates so he also did it to you although a bit too hard, you swear you have a bruise right on your forehead just from him lovingly bumping his face against yours. It started to piss you off A LOT having to rub ointment on the bruise but you couldn't be mad at him, he's too cute!

One day, you asked Kuai Liang for some tips and he recommended to just go slowly and see where the two of you would end up. That leads you to the present. You confronted Tomas just as he finished training. You tapped his shoulder and pulled your bangs away showing the bruise. "O-oh! I am so so sorry" he softly grabbed your face, looking at the bruise "that...does not look good..." He mutters to himself.

"Hmm maybe instead of bashing your mask against my face, you should just kiss me instead!" You huffed, crossing your arms. Tomas heard this and froze in place as if Bi-Han used his cryomancy powers on him. "But, i think that is a bit too...risque is it not?" This reply was not unexpected, considering the Lin Kuei has a very strong focus on discipline, you bet that he barely knows anything about romance besides some movies he has watched but even then, those things were difficult to find considering the Lin Kuei temple barely has working electrical sockets even then Bi-Han likes to freeze them by accident causing it to short circuit. Even then he never had the time to indulge in such activities.

Tomas slowly took his mask off and nervously grabbed your shoulder, he didn't know what to do. He tried to remember those scenes he saw in the movies he watched. He moved one hand behind your head "do you...wish for me to...kiss you?" He asked first. For once your confidence was gone, now replaced with nervousness. Neither of you have any idea how to kiss, sure you always see people kissing each other but you never done it yourself. "Sure! Go...go ahead" your heart was beating in your chest, Tomas too.

He gulped, looking around making sure no one would see him. He slowly breathed in and out, calming down before slowly leaning in and kissing you on the lips. You closed your eyes and he followed soon. He held you close for what felt like hours. You held the sides of his face with one hand while the other was on his back, holding onto his shirt.

You hummed into the kiss, all that anxiety melting away. Why were you afraid? This feels amazing, natural even. He slowly pulled away and looked at you, his hand to his mouth, he couldn't believe it, he did it! He finally kissed someone. You covered your face as a hot blush spread through your cheeks "i-i can't believe it!" Tomas let's go of you "your lips felt amazing...very soft" he whispered.

"Yours too...you're a really good kisser" he smiled and pulled you into a hug, kissing you on the bruise he left from his mask "from now on, i promise not to crash my mask onto your face" you couldn't help but laughed "thank the gods!"

Although your romantic moment was interrupted by Bi-Han and Kuai watching you and cheering both of you, acting like the proud brothers they were, although Bi-Han was more serious, hitting Tomas on the back of the head while saying "congratulations" in Mandarin. Well your fault for expecting peace and quiet in this place.

#tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #smoke mk #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk smoke #smoke x reader

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skunkox · 8 months ago

Text

Darlin's Jacket Headcanon

Been sitting on this for weeks , so just hear me out rq.

Dalrin's jacket was a gift from Asher. It was a present to cheer them up while they were on punishment when they were young. Possibly a birthday? Grades? Faught a kid? Embarrased their parents in front of the pack? Havent worked out the details.

It's a letterman jacket from a band they were really into. But the issue? It's a gooddam Unisex XXL, and the twerp of a Tank is like, barley 14 with not real muscle mass yet. My Tank at least is 13 when they make the move and join the pack in Dahlia while the main shaw pack kids are 14.

▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎

"Ash. Remind me again why you dragged us to Hot Topic." Milo asked, reluctantly following a brace faced Asher into the cramped, and dim lit store.

"Cause Half-pint, your comrad in short arms has been looking miserable. Or at least, more so than normal." Asher snickered, slowly getting more, and more side tracked as he wandered farther into the store. It wasn't long before David grabbed the boy by his collar and dragged him to the back of the store. Milo flashed him a cocky grin while Asher stumbled behind David.

"We got a problem. You said it was this one, right? It's too big." David released Asher to nealty pick up the jacket. "I mean, I know it's the thought that counts, but it's just not practical, Ash."

Asher was already looking through the piles. Wanting to be 100% sure they weren't missing anything. Starting to feel defeated. There was no way Asher was going to ask the clerk if there would be another shipment. Nor would he be willing to wait for a possible restock. Milo looked at his friend. He could tell those puppy dog eyes were gonna start bulging soon. A huff escaped his lips, and he stood straight with his hands on his hips. Trying to seem cool and a little bit taller.

"It's not like they're done growin'. And a jackets a jacket. If it's coverin', it's good." Milo couldn't stop the noogie barreling his way.

•●•●•●•

The handoff was swift. Just as the troublemaker was mounting their skateboard outside their middle school's gate, a familiar truck rolled up. From the truck's bed, Asher gave a quick "Heads up!" Before giving the equivalent of a basketball pass with a heavy black bag. A cackle could be heard, and the truck road off. Leaving them bamboozled.

It wasn't until Tank got home that they viewed the contents of the bag. The biggest, and goofiest smile spread across their face. They couldn't give two fucks about the size. It was from their favorite band. It was a gift. Someone cared enough to gift them something. Anything. But the fact that the few times they did speak, they were actually listened too. It nearly brought the runt to tears. It did. They won't admit it though. That's just embarrassing.

Really embarrassing. They were given a jacket by a boy. An upper classmen boy. A boy who was a part of their pack. Who they'd have to face on a regular basis. They did the jacket at the back of their closet. Still in it bag.

The disappointment in Asher's face really couldn't be hidden. Mostly for the fact that though the week of quick pass bys,they didn't wear the jacket. But he noticed at their next pack meeting, they'd give small waves now. Small smiles were attempted. This continued until Tank would inevitably start sitting near Asher during meetings. Or willingly go on group outing. This snowballed to the occasional video game or movie hangouts.

Still mostly lingering around Ash, or him leaning on them. When he did so, Tank would get flustered. But in true Tank fashion, would give his sides a punch or his legs a kick. Never hard enough to leave heavy bruises. What can I say? They play hard.

As oblivious to this Asher was, it was almost too embarrassing a site for the other second gen pack members. Cristian would poke his fun while Asher was away before Amanda could put him in check. Milo genuinely wanted to see how things would play out. David called them the "Disaster Duo" for a long while.

In true 2008 middle schooler cringe, Tank was convinced that the might have had the tiniest crush on Asher. But they denied it. Denied it so much that the others couldn't be convinced it wasn't true. There were lots of little arguments that summer. But Tank would immediately shut up when ever Asher came around.

•●•●•●•

Freshman year was something......

The teasing started to get out of hand. Asher would definitely hear the snickers and teasing. Especially now that it was directed towards him by his classmates. Asher would deny it during classes and lunches that they were just his "Lil Buddy." It's not like he really helped the situation. Hitting a growthspurt over the summer, it was easy to see him from down the hall. He'd wave and call Tank's name out into the crowd. His little buddy was drawing in a sea of students.

He'd elped them get to their classes by becoming a meat shield. Tank was just barely able to keep up. Asher once thought I'd be funny if he could heave them over his shoulder like a cheap, stringed gym bag. Tank was flustered but kicked and punched all the same.

The teasing one again grew when Tank finally decided to wear the damn jacket during school pictures. Not wanting to be remembered in the preppy outfit their parent picked out for then, they stowed the jacket away in their backpack.

The little smile on Asher's face couldn't have been bigger when he saw them in it. He was on his way to take pictures, and Tank was headed back to class. He pulled them off to the side of a couple half functioning vending machines.

"Sooooo? How're liking the jacket? I know it's too big but you said you like listening to the band. That, and I've never not seen it in your discman. I'm sorry I got it so big. It was t-." Asher's lip got stuck on a braces bracket, and he began to fumble his words. Quickly second-guessing if Tank even really liked the damn thing.

Giggling could be heard from a couple kids passing by. A light shove was made by another to Ash. A quick "Dork." was thrown his way. Heat rose in his face. In Tank's too. But out of frustration. Asher didn't do anything wrong. He was just trying to be a good friend.

And it clicked for the freshman. Why overthink and cause trouble for Asher if they could be a friend? That could be comfortable. They wouldn't have to avoid him like an unwanted puppy. He'd been their friend. Or at least trying to be. Shit didn't have to be weird.

"Hell yeah, bro! It really saved my ass today. My parents wanted me to look like some sort of outstanding citizen or some shit. Can't wait till I can bulk up some, though. I'll totally be able to take on David one on one." Tank beamed and jabbedAsher in the arm with quick fist. This was the loudest they had ever been as far as he knew. His goofy ass grin was back on his face. Before Asher could get out a word, Tank ran past him.

"Thanks dude!" They called out from the crowd, not looking back and focusing on making it through the herd of upper classmem.

•●•●•●•

The following years, Tank continued being bro-y with Asher. He laid off of a lot of physical contact in turn. But this was comfortable for them. Not real close like he was with the others but it was what Tank wanted. They seemed happier that way.

Tank absolutely wore the jacket every chance they got. Around their waist if need be. Ruined absolutely every single yearbook photo. Every pack meeting. Every fight. Even when they felt there was no one to run to for comfort. That jacket had been through hell and back. However, you can only stich fabric so many times.

It looks ratty, but there is no way they're giving it up any time soon. Even if hugs are always offered or dare I say mandatory.

Tank was now yelling at Asher for kicking their controller from their hands during their match of Mario Kart. Hands were thrown, but carefully so. The group of 8 were hanging out at David and Angel's after all. There was no way either of the two were willing to take beating from David. At the very least, another ban from the house. Laugher roared in the home from all sides. Of course, Sweetheart, being an opertunist, took first place of that round.

David and Sam had been in the kitchen, taking a break from the roundy bunch. He had asked Tank about the jacket on multiple occasions, but never gave a straight answer. He'd at least wanted to get it professionally fixed up. Tank had gotten used to all the stains and tears. Saying it was like "The scar that protected their scars." And was proud of it for always being there.

David was willing once again, shed a little light on the troublemaker. Sam let out a chuckle. The next round was starting, and he wanted to make sure he wouldn't be playing doctor that night. The two men returned. David taking his corner seat next to Angel. Same made his way to the recliner. His Darlin' not missing a beat, taking a seat on the beanbag they claimed earlier in the night between their mate's legs. All the while, raspberries were exchanges between them and Asher from across the room. His own mate laughing at their childsh antics.

This was all the comfort they could ask for.

▪︎■▪︎■▪︎■▪︎

Jacket really be a security blanket, tho. Sorry for the shit grammar. Caught some kind of cold, and my vision is absolute shit.

Bromance anyone?

#milo greer #redacted david #redacted sam #redacted tank #redacted darlin #david shaw #shaw pack #redacted milo #sam collins #redacted headcanons #redacted audio #redacted asmr #bromance #they're just friends

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hyuuukais · 16 days ago

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⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, mention of torture

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 7 ~ WHAT HAPPENED TO HAN JISUNG? (wc: 3.1k)

Arriving at the apartment building doesn't take long once you retrieve your car from the flower shop, looking up at the desolate building with unease as you step out of the vehicle. There isn't much to say about the bleak apartments, nearly empty and sure to be closed down in the near future by the looks of it. No one is in the lobby as you walk in and buzz for Minho.

"Password?" You hear him say through the speaker.

"Do we really have to do that? You know it's me," You groan, but he stays silent. "Cheeks."

Cheeks, an odd word to choose for a password, but it's Minho, so you try not to question it too much. He lets you in, and you opt to take the stairs given that one elevator is out of service and the other's doors are slightly cracked open despite not being in use. It's a long trudge up the stairs, all the way to level fourteen, but you make it up nonetheless, panting and taking a moment to catch your breath before knocking on the door. Minho is quick to open it and drag you inside.

The apartment is empty, save for a plain wooden table with two chairs on either side of the circular shape. Takeout bags sit on the kitchen counter, some food already out to be served on paper plates. Minho gestures for you to sit down as he opens the rest and piles food onto the plates, setting one down in front of you and the other on his side of the table, walking back to pour some water.

"This is one of the apartments Jisung and I used while we were undercover." You take note of how he openly says Jisung this time, not 'Detective Han'. "We had our own so as to not raise suspicion, but used this one to connect and discuss our findings in the investigation on the killings going on. The last night here, we were sure we had enough evidence to send out and blow their cover, but then Jisung went missing, and everything went to shit."

As Minho talks, something to your right catches your eye and your hand stops midair, food halfway to your mouth as it hangs open. You can see a slightly younger Minho pacing around, the previously empty apartment decorated in more takeout containers and a large bulletin board, red string and photos covering the majority of it. Minho has his hands in his hair as he rambles and paces, another man standing at the board biting his thumb, trying to focus both on Minho's words and the images in front of him. He has mousy brown hair, long bangs covering part of his face, and is around the same height as Minho.

Eventually, younger Minho stops pacing, standing next to Jisung with furrowed eyebrows and an expression of disbelief. You can't hear what they're saying, only able to hear present-day Minho explaining the situation they were in; how Han had offered to go alone to secure one last piece of information that would really tie everything together, even if it was risky. Minho tried to stop him, and you see him place a hand on Han's shoulder, turning his body toward Minho. After what looks like a short argument, Han places his hands on Minho's shoulders and says something, Minho looking down at his feet.

"He said he'd be okay," Minho talks, voice low, and you finally tear your eyes away from the scene to look at him, food long forgotten by both of you. "He didn't return that night like he said he would, or the next day, or the one after that. Our boss had me wait a whole week until he allowed me to investigate, but I couldn't wait that long. After the third day, I went back and found the place completely empty, except for two men with orders to kill me on sight. Luckily, they were stupid and taunted me first, wasting time."

Before younger Minho and Jisung disappear, you sense a third presence behind the door and spot the light changing underneath, as if someone had just stepped in front of it from the outside. They're obviously eavesdropping, but with the way the two men in the apartment are facing, it goes unnoticed. Your own eyebrows mimic younger Minho's as they furrow deeply, biting your lip in thought as you turn to face him present day.

"Did you know you were followed?" The look on Minho's face answers for you, the way he slowly places his utensils down. "As you were explaining, I could see it playing out, but there was someone else at the door listening in."

"Figures," Minho scoffs, voice rough and lips pursed as he turns away from you with crossed arms.

"What did you do to the men who took him?" You ask cautiously, leaning forward. Both of your food has been forgotten, growing cold as the silence stretches on between you. "Minho, what did you do?"

"Bad things," Minho murmurs, shaking his head and looking down where his feet are firmly planted on the carpeted floor. "Things I'm not proud of, but would do again if it meant finding Jisung. Only one man left that building that day, and you're looking at him."

You nod in understanding, leaning back in your chair with a slight sick feeling. Although you knew what kind of work Minho did, hearing the confirmation that he has, in fact, killed someone makes your hair stand up.

As it's getting late, you both decide to call it a night and investigate the storefront in the morning. In all honesty, you don't know what to expect, or what you'll get out of this. There's no way the spirits of those men will want to help, and what do they get in return? It's not like you can bring them back... can you? You shiver at the thought; even if you could, those aren't the type of people you'd want to use that kind of special power on.

Minho takes the couch, not leaving room for argument as he lies down with his boots now untied by the end. You enter the bedroom, taking in the bare walls and lack of life. It's stale, uncomfortable, but it'll do for just one night.

The storefront looks like it hasn't been touched in years, and you suppose it really hasn't been since the investigation into Jisung's disappearance. Minho approaches first and jiggles the doorknob, which is obviously locked. There's a big 'For Lease' sign sitting in the window collecting dust, the lettering a faded blue. It's hard to see inside, the thick layer of dirt and grime on the glass windows obscuring your view when you try and look. Wiping it does nothing, most of the grit on the inside, but you do manage to spot a few upturned chairs near the front.

Rounding the building and walking down the alleyway, Minho brings you to a door at the side. When it doesn't open, he gestures for you to stand back. He swiftly kicks the wood, and it doesn't stand a chance, almost immediately splintering off the hinges. As if it's nothing, Minho walks into the building, not waiting for your shock to wear off.

Just as you suspected, the inside is covered in dust, and you have to try hard not to sneeze as the particles tickle your nose and make it itch. You've entered right at the back of the store, making your way into the very back. The layout kind of reminds you of the flower shop. Minho makes a beeline to the back corner of the small room you've entered and you spot a groove in the floor.

"Trap door?" You ask, although it's obvious.

Minho doesn't reply. Instead, he runs his hands over the uneven ground until he finds a spot to dig his finger underneath and pull it up, revealing a cement staircase. A chill runs down your spine, and you swear you could hear crying right as he opened it up. Hesitantly, you take a step forward, letting Minho lead the way. Even he's cautious as he walks down, and you don't have to ask to know why. This place must bring back bad memories, ones you'd never want to recall. Jisung must have been special.

The basement air is cold and damp as you descend, unwelcoming in every sense of the word. A headache is already forming on your temples from what you suspect is from the sheer amount of lost souls trapped here, forever unable to find peace. It hurts that you can't help them all; you're here for a different purpose. Not many of the spirits show their faces to you, but some linger around the dark, brick walls. There's a single light hanging from the ceiling casting a dim yellow glow, a dilapidated chair directly underneath. A shiver goes down your spine.

"Lee Minho." You hear a voice scoff, head whipping toward the noise. There's a gruff, muscular man leaning against the wall by the stairs, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see you here again."

Minho doesn't reply, oblivious to the man trying to communicate. This irks the man clearly, his face scrunching up in frustration as Minho appears to ignore him. Kicking off the wall, he goes to approach Minho, but sees you looking at him and stops.

"What's his problem?" The man nods to Minho.

"He can't see or hear you." At your voice, Minho turns, his eyes flickering between you and where you're standing. "Only I can."

"They're here?" Minho hurries over to you, glaring at the spot you're eyes are.

"Just one... he has a tattoo of a lotus flower on his forearm if that helps." You state, nodding at he man.

"He was the last one." Minho says, disdain in his voice.

In this position, you know there isn't much you can do. How are you supposed to force information out of a potentially violent spirit? You can't kill him twice...

Or, wait...

Jeongin, you think, closing your eyes and focusing your energy on him. You can almost feel the connection between you, a bright line reaching out to him. Jeongin, help me.

It's only a matter of seconds until you feel a soft breeze move strands of your hair into your face, and you open your eyes to see Jeongin. He's looking down at you with a soft expression, relieved to see you're okay. When he looks to the man, his eyes narrow.

"Who are you?" The man suddenly looks uneasy, crossing his arms, but Jeongin just shakes his head.

"Not important. Now, you're going to tell us where Han Jisung is," Jeongin demands.

The man barks out a laugh. "Like hell I'm gonna do that."

"I have an idea." You whisper to Jeongin, turning your body so the man can't hear you as well. "Use my energy to force the answers out of hi-"

"Are you kidding me? No way!" Jeongin's eyes widen, unable to believe you're seriously suggesting that. "Do you understand what that could do to you?"

"Yes, and I'm willing to take the risk! Otherwise, I wouldn't be asking you." You cross your arms now, holding your ground. "Just do it. Please."

Jeongin searches your eyes, seeing the certainty in them, and sighs. He takes a hold of your hand, closing his eyes to focus on your connection, similar to what you did earlier. After a moment, he opens them again, and the man is giving you both an amused look. Before he can speak, his mouth open to say something, he's flying backward into the chair. The man's eyes are big with shock, chains wrapping his wrists and legs in place, an additional one forming around his chest. You don't know what's going on, only that you feel dizzy.

"Tell us where he is." Jeongin steps closer, and you do too on instinct. Each step toward the center of the room feels like you're walking through quicksand; your head is pounding with each sluggish movement. "Now."

Chains rustle, and your vision swims as they seem to tighten around the man. How Jeongin is doing this is beyond you, but the scare tactic seems to be working.

"Warehouse on Twilight! He's- we brought him there after finding out who he was!" The man's voice is high with panic, still fighting against the confines of the chair. "Now let me go!"

With a thud, the chair returns back to it's ruined state, and the spirit of the man is released. Jeongin lets go of your arm the same moment, and the only thing keeping you from hitting the floor are Minhos arms as he catches you. Before you think you'll pass out, you relay the information to Minho.

Keeping an arm around you, the two of you hurry back out to Minho's car. Jeongin is long gone, and a part of you feels guilty for making him use you like that. The last thing Jeongin wants to do is take your energy, and you practically forced him to.

"Stop thinking like that," Minho says sharply, leaning back as he exits the parking lot. "I can see it in your face. It's not your fault, and you did what was necessary."

"It doesn't feel right-"

"It never does." Minho sighs. "It never does."

After that, it doesn't take long for the two of you to get to the warehouse as Minho is practically speeding the whole way, even with it being across the city. Like the storefront, it's old and abandoned. The gate is broken, allowing easy access inside, and there's a door hanging off the hinges; someone has clearly broken in recently, probably to stay the night.

Dust assaults your senses once again as you enter the building. The inside is completely empty, high ceilings with small windows to allow light. On the other end is a door with a metal staircase leading up to it, and you assume it used to go to an office or breakroom. Minho curses at the space, running a hand through his hair as he walks further in. You can't imagine how disappointed he must be, knowing this doesn't help him at all in finding Jisung.

"Dammit..." Minho turns, exhaustion and defeat seeping into his features. "Let's just go. This place offers nothing."

You're about to agree, but look back into the dim room once more. Something by the stairs catches your eye.

"Minho, wait."

Walking closer, you make out the shape of a person descending the steps, and you immediately recognize him as the man you're looking for. Han Jisung stands at the bottom of he staircase, looking out to you with a sad look on his face, and your heart sinks. Minho steps beside you, shrugging.

"What?" He looks between you and the stairs, squinting. "There's nothing, let's go. We've wasted enough time."

As he goes to walk away, you grab his wrist, making him jolt back a bit. You let go with an apologetic expression, retracting your hand back to your body. Minho looks briefly offended, but then sees the mixed emotions on your face.

"He's here..." You say quietly, glancing back to the stairs. "I think he has something to say to you."

"No." Minho's voice comes out as a small gasp, and he shakes his head. "No, Y/n, no. That means- he can't be-"

"I'm sorry," You whisper, gently placing a hand on his arm. "I can help you communicate."

Minho looks away, bringing a hand to his mouth as he tries to collect himself. A few moments later, he nods. You both head to the stairs where Jisung has been waiting patiently.

There's not a single scratch on him, no sign of hurt at all, and it's strange. His hair is well groomed, and his clothes aren't wrinkled. Jisung can't keep his eyes off Minho as you approach, and you'd swear he's alive if it weren't for the way his hands don't quite touch the railing. He descends slowly until he's eye level with Minho, but Minho's eyes are still stuck on the stairs.

"He's right in front of you," You whisper, as though talking too loud will shatter the fragility in the air.

"Jisung?" Minho's eyes flicker down, and you see Jisung inhale as their eyes meet. There's a small, sad smile on his face.

"Can you hear me?" Jisung looks at you for a brief moment, then back to Minho, his smile faltering; you nod. "Tell him I'm okay, please."

"He says he's okay." You repeat, voice wavering.

"They did bad things to me here," Jisungs voice steels. "Tortured me for information, but I didn't tell them anything. It was too much in the end."

Hearing his story has your heart breaking for him, your eyes watering despite not knowing the man in front of you. Jisung looks down at his feet as you tell Minho what he's said.

Jisung's eyes find Minho again, his voice quieter now. "I tried to look after you. I'm sorry for what happened."

There's movement, his hand reaching to grasp Minho's. You hear Minho suck in a breath and look up to see his wide, blinking eyes staring back at Jisung, almost like-

"I can see you." Minho says bluntly, and Jisung laughs lightly, the sound echoing in the emptiness of the warehouse. "Why can I see you now?"

"Obviously, I missed you so much I brought you to the afterlife with one touch." Jisung teases, giving you a warm glimpse into their dynamic as Minho scoffs. Then, Jisung's smile begins to fade. "I think... I think the universe knows what time it is."

"What do you mean?" Minho says, although you know he knows by the expression on his face, the way he can't stop blinking.

"You know what I mean," Jisung says softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "You found me. You got closure."

"I can't-" Minho shakes his head. "Jisung, don't-"

"Shh," Jisung brings his free hand up to rest on Minhos shoulder. "We'll see each other again, hopefully not for a long time. I've seen the way you've been these past few years, the downward spiral you've been slowly going down. I want you to live, Min, I want you to fall in love with life again. I need you to."

Minho's throat bobs, then he's pulling Jisung into a hug. They stay like that for a few minutes, and you look away, feeling the moment is too private for you to be witnessing. Some words are whispered, ones you don't catch, then there's a sniffle and someone clearing their throat.

"Let's go." Minho is already turned around by the time your eyes find him again, already walking toward the exit. When you look toward the staircase, there's nothing but the lingering scent of something sweet.

notes ~ i am SO SO sorry it's taken so long for a new chapter to come out 😭 i hope you guys still like it 😥 if you're on the taglist and have changed ur user, pls lmk so i can update it!!

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800 @dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken @lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12 @sillyhal @rensahazard

green means i can't tag you

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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fairystar111 · 2 months ago

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Oh Baby Blue, don't you know I love you?

By: fairystar111

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Summary:

How far would you go for your family? To Enji Todoroki family means everything. He knows he’s made some mistakes in the past but doesn’t he deserve a chance to make up for all the hurt he caused? To right all his wrongs and create a new happy family. Shouto would beg to differ. He doesn’t want to be his fathers second chance. He just wants to be free.

Characters: Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Todoroki Shouto.

Tags: Infantilism, Forced Infantilism, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Yandere, Brainwashing, Conditioning, Gaslighting, Mind Manipulation, Medical Inaccuracies, Yandere Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Platonic Yandere, Possessive Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Post-Final War Arc (My Hero Academia).

✧❅🕯❅✧

It started after the war. The battle had been ruthless and barbaric; many lives were lost on both sides, heroes, villains, comrades, and civilians alike but in the end the hero's won. Shouto had helped bring an end to evil or so he had thought…Thinking back on it, this is probably around the time the crazed look began to resurface in his father’s gaze. It probably had to do with his older brother coming back from the dead, only to almost die yet again trying to take Shouto down with him. Shouto had not died but was put into a medical coma since his injuries were so severe. He doesn't know what happened in the time he was asleep but when he finally awoke his father had begun to act strange .

They were given a mandatory semester off to take in the after effects of the war. During this time his father had been very accommodating, a little too accommodating if you asked Shouto. Anytime he needed anything his father was right there one step ahead. Whether it be feeding Shouto, helping him walk to the bathroom, carefully bathing him when he was too weak to do it himself, helping him with his physical therapy or simply fluffing his pillows. Shouto had allowed it, thinking maybe he was overcompensating for the past, he did say he would give him a chance so he sat back and allowed himself to be taken care of. Big mistake.

Soon he couldn't lift a spoon without his father there to fuss over him. He thought as the end of the semester neared and his physical therapy lulled to a stop, the man would stop his endless pampering. He was wrong . Even as his physical capabilities increased the man still insisted on helping him bathe, spoon feeding him as if he were a child, and tucking him into bed hours before his usual curfew. He doesn't know why but whenever the man is caring for him, his gaze is always so intense, eyes roaming Shouto’s face like he’s looking for something. What he’s searching for, Shouto doesn't know. Maybe an indignant reaction or a bratty retort like the ones he used to spit at him before the war. Whatever it is he’s looking for, he never finds, his father always walks away disappointed. It makes the little part of him deep inside that still wishes for his fathers approval angry to think even when he is being civil he’s still not enough for his father.

When the last week of their mandatory break drew to a close, Shouto was more than ready to leave the suffocating house he was forced to call home. The tension in the house had been steadily rising each day with Shouto trying to avoid his father’s odd treatment and Enji breaking through any boundary the boy tried to put in place. It all came to a boiling point when his father caught him off guard, grabbing him unexpectedly as he was walking to his room after a particularly stifling dinner. And carrying him to his office to have a discussion, one week before he was supposed to go back to school.

“Ugh what do you want now?” Shouto groaned as his father finally set him down onto a plush office chair, slapping away the hands gently carding through his hair.

“Behave Shouto, I brought you here to speak with you regarding your schooling not to fight. As I was saying, this fall you will not be returning to classes. I’ve made the decision to pull you out of school to focus on your health and well being.” Enji gently chided him, voice so soft and unlike anything he used to use before. The memories of harsh words and violent outbursts echoed in Shouto’s mind reminding him to not fall for the act. His father may be trying to be “better” but he will always be the same obsessive controlling man he once knew.

The boy scoffed. “My health? I’m fine now. I can go back to school just fine like everyone else.” It was true, the head injury he had received had healed and with regular stretching and exercise the scarring he received in his fight with his brother no longer bothered him. There was nothing left to heal.

“I’ve already decided Shouto.” Tone leaving no room for argument, face stern but eyes staring at him so softly. It made him uncomfortable. Shouto didn't know how to deal with softness when it came to his father. Pummeling fists and demeaning words he could deal with but this: the kind loving stares and endless spoiling he had no clue what to do with. “This is for your own good.”

His voice was a soft one as if he was placating a tantruming toddler; it only angered Shouto further. “I don't care what you think I need. You're not my only parent. If you won't let me go to school, then I’ll have mom help re-enroll me.” His mother was doing so much better and was currently being evaluated and prepped to be discharged. Soon she’ll be living on her own in her own home with Natsuo and Fuyumi. He’s sure she wouldn’t mind if he came to live with her instead.

His father's face saddened as it always did whenever he brought up his mother. “Your mother cannot make any decisions on your behalf considering her previous struggles with her mental health. She lost any legal rights over you due to the incident.” Issues he had caused with his selfishness and abuse.

The boy's face flushed in anger. He couldn’t believe he was doing this again. He was so stupid to believe his father could ever change.“Y-you can't do this to me! You have no right!” he yelled.

“I am your father. I have every right to make what I feel are the best choices for you. This is all in your best interest son. I’m not trying to hurt you.” His arms reached forward, likely trying to pull him into a hug, but Shouto flinched away.

“Well it's not like that's ever bothered you before. When have you ever cared about hurting your children.” The boy hissed, dismissing himself quickly before his father got his hands on him again.

✧❅🕯❅✧

After their discussion life in the Todoroki home became tense more so than ever switching between constant screaming matches and cold silent treatment. Shouto doing his very best to avoid his fathers constant coddling and failing miserably resulting in more fights than he can count. It all came to a head the day he tried to leave, the day everything changed.

Shouto had woken up before sunrise for the first day back to classes. He figured if he got there early he could speak with Nedzu and figure something out, like possibly becoming a ward of UA. He had carefully put on his uniform as quietly as possible before sneaking to the entry way to slip on his shoes. He put his bag over his shoulder and gently opened the door, tensing when he felt a large hand land on his shoulder. He turned to see his father. He didn't know how someone so huge could be so silent on his feet to have snuck up on him.

“It’s early, you should go back to bed.” His fathers voice gruff voice sounded through the silent halls, still raspy from sleep. He was likely roused by some sort of alarm system Shouto had unknowingly tripped.

“No, I'm going to school.” Shouto tried to stay firm despite the slight tremble going through his body. He can’t stay in this house any longer. Everyday he spent here he could feel the life being drained out of him. He fears if he doesn’t leave now he’ll end up like his mother did. A mere shell of what she once was, living like a ghost in her own home before her mind shattered completely.

“We've already discussed this Shouto, stop this foolishness.” His father let out a resigned sigh as moved him away from the door, having to pry his hands off the frame before closing it. “Now let’s get you out of this uniform and tucked back into bed.” Gently pushing him toward his bedroom, his grip still tight on his shoulder.

Shouto tried to pull himself out of his fathers hold yelling, “Let go of me!”, struggling harder as he used his other hand to land hits on his father’s wrist hoping to loosen his hold on him.

“Please stop fighting! Shouto stop squirming!” Enji said in between hits, “We do not hit others, Shouto! Stop it NOW!” The man accidentally raised his voice, reaching down for his son's other arm.

Shouto couldn't help the yelp that escaped his throat as his body automatically flinched back, freezing at the hand coming towards him too quickly. His dad’s face softened and he pulled him into a hug taking advantage of his frozen state and whispering gentle reassurances that he would never hurt him again. “How about we spend the rest of the morning in my room? We can sleep in and have a nice big breakfast later, alright?”

It's asked like a suggestion but really it's an order, that is what’s going to happen, Shouto has no choice in the matter. “Okay,” he responds, letting out a sad sigh as he is picked up and carried into his fathers bedroom. His uniform is shed and replaced with a soft pair of pajamas he’s never seen before. A soft pale gray footed sleeper with little white bunnies decorating the footies, a fluffy white belly, and fuzzy bunny ears on the hood. It oddly reminded him of something a infant would wear, his father looked strangely happy to see him in it. He shrugged it off, chalking it up to be more of his fathers strange new behavior and left it at that. Not bothering to argue, too devastated from being caught to think too hard about it.

As the anger fled his body all that was left behind was a deep sadness at the thought of what he will lose. All his friends he’s bonded with will move forward in their paths to become heroes and he will be left behind stuck in this house with no one but his father. His father pulls him close to his body resting his chin on top of his head cuddling him like a teddy bear when he begins to cry as if that would comfort him. He wonders if his father even cares about why he’s crying himself to sleep. If he didn't, it wouldn't be the first time he ignored his children's pain in favor of doing what he wants. He falls asleep dreading waking back up at all.

✧❅🕯❅✧

Then the next day his father had gone out briefly to consult with his doctors on a treatment plan for what exactly Shouto doesn't know. He feels fine but apparently something is still wrong since his dad arrived with a new medication prescribed specifically for him by his doctors. He said it was to prevent any latent negative effects to his brain, the head injury might have caused. He took the pill offered to him without further question.

He didn’t notice the changes at first or his father’s underhanded plan at work. Looking back on it he should have been more suspicious of his fathers eager, almost giddy attitude whenever he took his “medicine”. Or the fact that every time he was given his daily dose of medication his father made sure to include a word that he now recognizes as a trigger. He didn't catch it at first but as time progressed and the dosage was upped the emphasis on the word became more overt and less subtle as the symptoms began to get stronger.

“It’s just a little pill, it shouldn't be too hard to swallow, ” He took it, not much changed aside from him starting to feel a bit spacy and losing track of time.

“It's just a couple more pills than usual Shouto. They're so little it shouldn't matter.” He started to feel more tired in the day, often leading to his father putting him down for naps midday or else he’d find him sleeping in random spots around the house. His attention was also beginning to be drawn to the childish cartoons his father insisted on playing on the television for him. He had never paid attention to them before finding them boring but now he could hardly tear his eyes away.

“It's time for your medicine, little boy.” He began to stumble both on his words and his feet. Big words made his tongue feel heavy and his mouth syrupy, unable to move in a way necessary for complex speech. Instead of fighting through the thick fog to speak normally he found himself adjusting to broken speech and foggy state of mind. When he became frustrated with his unsteady steps and wobbly legs his father was quick to suggest a solution. ‘Maybe it would be easier if you crawled? There's less risk of serious injury if you fall when you are closer to the ground,’ he said as if it was the most obvious choice in the world. The pills made him more vulnerable to suggestion and easier to accept changes without noticing the oddity of what was being asked. Soon it was second nature for him to crawl around when he began to feel small.

“It’s time to be little , Shouto.” He doesn't know how long it's been but Daddy hasn't been giving him medicine anymore. With only a word the fuzziness invades his mind, reducing him into nothing more than a helpless child. Logic and complex thought are thrown out the window along with his fine motor skills. He finds simple things so much more painful and his emotions feel so much stronger. Tears are seemingly always leaking from his eyes followed by wails for his Daddy. But as easily as he is hurt, he is quick to forgive and forget, his little self is quite endeared with his father. Always reaching for Daddy to be picked up or cuddled, happy to play and indulge his Papa’s every whim. Or getting upset when his father leaves, whether to use the bathroom or make dinner. He finds himself tearing up wishing for his Daddy to come back, missing the man despite him being just down the hall. It was irrational illogical but…somehow his father has managed to turn him into a sort of ghost of the past. He’s managed to bring out the child he once hurt and use him against Shouto.

By the time he had broken out of the trance and realized the word was what was triggering the fuzzy childlike state of mind, it was too late. He had already been trained. As soon as his father says the word, he doesn’t want to fight back any more. His little self doesn’t want to leave. He likes the new father, the kind father, the never violent father. He had been fooled.

What's worse is, he’s found that his mind is beginning to revert to that little headspace on its own. Whenever he is stressed or in pain he’ll regress back to that childlike state of mind even without his father around to initiate it. He’ll go back to being that naive dumb little boy, vulnerable and longing for a family that has long since left him behind.

His inner child is too trusting and helpless; his father doesn’t deserve to handle this part of him, especially not like this. Not when the only reason he got to see it at all was by betraying his trust and forcing him out. He should have never trusted in his father. He never realized how far his father would go to keep him trapped under his control until he did…

It had been during one of the rare moments that his father allowed him to be big, that he caught a glance at the date on his father’s phone screen. He had forgotten it on his bedside table while putting him down for a nap. Shouto had grabbed it, meaning to return it to his father when the screen lit up automatically. Then he saw it. Six months had passed. ‘No it can't be.’ he thought to himself shocked. It felt like just last week he had been trying to sneak out for the first day of school. There’s no way this could be right. Is this why his father had forbidden his electronics? Why he had any and all clocks removed from the house? The reason he couldn't watch any news? His body trembled as he clutched the device tightly in his hand. Rage lit his body as he heard heavy footsteps walking back towards his room.

“Shouto baby, have you seen my–” Enji froze as he took in his son’s stormy expression looking down at the device in his hand. ‘Ah, I guess we're doing this today.’ he thinks to himself. It's a bit sooner than he expected but his baby has always managed to surpass his expectations so he shouldn’t be too surprised. It's alright he can work with this, though it is down to Shouto which route he takes. He hopes he chooses the path of least resistance but alas his baby has never known what's good for him.

“Is it true? Have I really been stuck here for half a year?” his father nodded in a nonchalant manner, seeming unbothered by his discovery. If that was true, how long has his father been on leave? There's no way the commission would allow him, The Number One Hero, to put off work for six consecutive months. And how come no one has reported they haven't seen Shouto in months. He knows he doesn’t have that wide of a social circle like most kids his age but surely someone must have noticed. Why hasn't anyone come to save him? What lies has his father been feeding everyone?

“Why–why would you do this?” Shouto asked dumbfounded because how deranged of a person do you have to be to brainwash your own child?! He knew his father was a bad man but this… The man may have truly lost his mind.

His father simply answered, voice smooth and unperturbed, “It was for your own good.”

“My own good?” The boy scoffed, “ How could stripping away my autonomy be for my own good! How could making me a prisoner of my own mind be good for me?! Huh? How dad! How could that ever be good for me!” his voice steadily rose with each remark until he was shouting at his father though the man remained unfazed. His expressionless face was beginning to piss Shouto off.

“You wouldn’t have stayed any other way.” Nothing about the man’s body language showed a hint of remorse. He doesn’t care what Shouto wants. He never has.

“Of course I wouldn’t! I never wanted to be here! You knew I wanted to go back to UA. Just how long did you plan on keeping me here!” Shouto screamed, before going quiet as a chilling thought crossed his mind. “If I hadn't caught on would you have ever let me go back?”

“...”

“Answer me dammit!” He was met with the silence, his fathers slack face and seemingly bored expression was enough of an answer.

“You never changed, you're still the same controlling bastard you've always been. I was a fool to ever believe in you.” Tears of frustration welled up in heterochromatic eyes. Everything felt so big and out of his control. If he doesn't get his emotions under control soon he may slip back into his headspace. It’s game over if that happens.

“My my you’re being quite fussy, you'll upset your stomach at this rate. We can have a talk after you've calmed down and had your nap. You'll feel better once you've slept a bit.” His father's face softened and voice returned to a gentle coo. It was like he could sense he was slipping and was trying to push him over the edge.

Both sides of the boy lit up with flames and frost as he yelled. “Stop it! Stop with your wretched coddling! Stop acting like I’m a child! I've had enough! You can’t take away the life I've built just because you want a chance to right your wrongs. What's done is done, you can't change the past! You can't change me, I won't allow it! I don’t care if I have to fight you, I'm leaving!”

“Shouto please you can’t go you're too li– ”

“Shut up!” he screamed, shooting spikes of ice towards his father knocking him off his feet. Encasing him in ice up to his nose leaving only enough space to breathe before kicking him in the head effectively knocking him out. He hurried out the bedroom encasing every door and corridor in ice on his way out to buy as much time as he could. He ran, wasting no time in changing out of his pajamas, only slipping on his shoes and running out of the house. He needed to find his mother.

•❅──────✧❅🕯❅✧──────❅•

The treatment really was working. He had been skeptical of the method at first but it truly was a miracle. Shouto will be the key to bringing his family back together. Soon his little boy will be reborn into the perfect baby, happy to be loved and cherished forever. If all things go according to plan he’ll have his family back in his pocket and a little one to adore. He'll have to call Kiego back later to thank him for all his help.

In the meantime he spent his time methodically melting the ice and cleaning up the place at a leisurely pace giving his son some time to run before he properly hunts him down. This is all a lesson for his own good afterall. If Enji really wanted to, he could have ended the fight the moment he entered the room by activating his conditioning but he didn't. Shouto needs to learn that he can never run from his father, on his own. He needs his spirit to be broken so no further attempts to distance himself from Enji can be made. Afterall Enji is only doing what's best for him. He just wants to care for his baby and love him like he never had before.

It took him seeing Shouto lying comatose in a hospital bed too big for him to realize the truth. He never wants to see his son on the battlefield ever again. He never wants to see him in hero garb fighting for his life or using that wretched quirk again. The future he had planned for him and the method of his creation had all been a mistake. Hero work wasn't safe for his baby. Because that's what Shouto is, his youngest baby. And he needs to protect him now unlike how he failed in the past. If only the boy would stop trying to run away.

Well if this is how the boy wants to play then Enji is happy to play along. He kept on his damp clothes even tearing them up in some places and finished applying his makeup before slipping on his house slippers before walking out the door.

He hopes Shouto understands that he will never have another chance to run so he better get all that energy out of him now and realize he’ll never be able to escape his Daddy.

✧❅🕯❅✧

Shouto sniffed in his seat quietly letting out the last of his sobs as he watched the scenery rapidly change through the train's window. He felt the adrenaline from the altercation with his father slowly fading away leaving him tired and drained. He wiped away his tears with a handkerchief a kind old lady had given him two stops ago. It was pink with fluffy little bunnies hopping along the border. He wishes he were a little bunny, free to run and play with his bunny friends and be with his bunny family without a terrifying wolf constantly looming over them.

The train car jostled, signaling it was coming to a stop. He shook off the childish train of thought and fuzziness beginning to creep into his mind. His mind was slipping but he couldn’t afford to lose focus now, he had to go see his mother. He walked out into the crowded station making his way towards the steps leading up to the exit. The hospital his mother is staying in is only a thirty minute walk from the station. If he runs he can get there in ten. He makes his way through the sea of people not caring who he was bumping into or listening to them cry out after him. He didn’t notice a familiar head of green hair looking his way.

The run to the clinic wasn't a long one but it felt unbearable. He hasn't exercised in such a long time. His lungs were burning, his throat ached thirsting for water, and his legs were already cramping. Usually a little run like this would be a breeze but thanks to his father’s constant babying he’s hardly walked in months let alone ran. By the time he made it to the hospital he was panting and dripping with sweat. “I definitely did not make it here in ten minutes. I’ll need to work extra hard to get back into shape once I get back in school”, he huffed in thought as he pushed open the door leaning on it to catch his breath for a minute before walking up to the service desk.

An emotion Shouto can’t quite discern flickered over the nurse’s face for a moment as she took in his appearance before returning to a polite smile. “Hello there, how can I help you?”

“I need to see my mother, her name is Todoroki Rei. The matter is urgent. If you could give me clearance quickly it would be very much appreciated.” he said through harsh breaths, cheeks flush from physical exertion.

“Alright, one second let me pull up your records. Your name is?”

“Todoroki Shouto.”

“Alrighty…hmm,” the nurse's brows furrowed, staring at the computer screen before asking. “Would you mind answering some quick questions for me first Todoroki-kun?

“Please keep it brief. I need to see my mother,” Shouto answered tersely. He had no time to waste who knows how long his father will stay unconscious. He needs to act fast.

“Alright now what is the reason for your visit?”

“I need to speak to my mother regarding my schooling and father’s behavior.” That’s putting it briefly. He needs to tell her how that man had been brainwashing him and keeping him prisoner for months now. And to apply for custody and get him out or tell Fuyumi or Natsuo to try. He doesn’t care who it is, living with any of them would be better than his Father.

“And how did you get here? Did you come here all by yourself?”

“Yes I took the train.” Do they ask everyone their mode of transportation when visiting?

“Alright and does anyone know that you're here right now?”

“No. Are we done yet? Can I go see my mother now?” He knows hasn’t visited in a while but these questions seem odd.

“Sorry sweetie, just one more question, okay?”

“Fine,” the boy snapped, beginning to feel irritated. While he knows this particular hospital typically is for high profile patients usually heroes, celebrities, politicians and their families alike. He’s never been interrogated like this. Usually they just ask for his name, check his file, and let him through. He’s never had this much trouble before.

“You said there was an issue with your father, who is listed as your primary guardian. What is it?”

“He’s been acting insane. He locks me away in our home and won’t let me go to school. He keeps treating me like a child and won’t listen to me when I tell him to stop. He’s awful. I want to come live with my mom instead.” Why is she looking at him like that? Oh…oh no. He knows that look. She's looking at him the same way his father does, like he’s helpless and in need of protection.

“Oh honey but you are a child and judging from your file a very sick one who's been through a lot. How about we call up your Daddy and see what he has to say about all this okay?” The nurse's tone was both condescending and sickeningly sweet just like his father. Dammit she’s not taking him seriously.

“No! You can’t call him! He’s crazy, he’ll lock me back up again!” Shouto begged her to listen. “Please, I don't want him to come get me.”

“It's alright honey, I'm just going to make a quick call. Have a seat in the meanwhile.” No. He can’t just wait here to be caught. If the nurse didn’t believe him, maybe the police would. He’ll just have to take that chance.

Shouto ran to the exit and pushed the doors but no matter how hard he tried they would not open. They had been locked remotely. He looked back to see the nurse eyeing him sympathetically before tapping her headset and saying. “Hey I got a child of a patient expressing very concerning behavior. His file contains multiple illnesses and injuries within the last year. [It states the patient is incompetent, experiences PTSD, Delusions, Paranoia, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Panic Disorder, Depression, Antisocial Personality Disorder, etc] It states that the child is both a danger to himself and others and is in constant need of supervision. He’s down here alone showing signs of delusion. I need security down here now to help restrain him while I call up his family.”

“No please you don’t understand. If he catches me, I’ll never see the light of day again.” Shouto pleaded but all the nurse did was put a finger up to her mouth and made a light shushing noise at him as she dialed the number into the phone.

He tried to use his ice to weaken the doors but for some reason his frost would not stick, it would slip right off the door. The windows wouldn’t shatter either; they were both likely quirk proof. He could start a fire and force the staff to evacuate everyone and escape during the chaos. But it felt wrong to cause stress to already sick patients staying in the hospital, especially when his mother is one of them.

Lost in thoughts of escape he didn’t notice the security guards barreling towards him until he felt strong hands locking around his waist pulling him away from the exit. He struggled and fought against the burly man's hold, kicking and screaming "Let me go!”. But the man held him still, sitting down on one of the chairs and folded him onto his lap while another guard forced Shouto’s arms behind his back and wrapped quirk restraints around his wrists and another set on his ankles. Then sat him on his own chair to wait for his father, each still keeping a firm grip on one of his arms.

Soon enough his father was bursting through the clinic's doors eyes scanning the waiting room before zeroing in on him. He looked like he had been beaten and dragged through a storm. His clothes were damp and ragged, likely from breaking himself out of the ice though that didn't explain the injuries. Where did he get that black eye and busted lip from? Shouto certainly hadn’t given it to him. He struggled against his bonds harder as he walked towards him, picking him up and quietly thanking the guards.

He tried to buck out of his hold but the look his father shot at him sent shivers up his spine and made him go still. That look promised hell when they went back home. He’s known that look since childhood it meant ‘behave while we're in public or I’ll make you wish you were dead. He stayed quiet as his father followed the nurse he was speaking with earlier to a private office. The paper crinkled underneath him as he was placed in the treatment chair, his father sat across from him on a waiting chair, while the nurse sat on her desk turning on the monitor..

“Thank you so much for calling me. I’ve been looking everywhere for him.” He heard his father tell the nurse. He couldn't believe she couldn't see the smug satisfaction radiating off the man under the overly fake concerned look on his face.

“Your welcome, I noticed the changes in his chart and knew he was not supposed to be here on his own. He ended up making quite the scene trying to leave before you arrived and had to be retrained for his own safety.” What? What changes is she talking about? He shifted to glance at the monitor but couldn't quite move the way he wanted in the restraints.

“I am so sorry about him, we had an argument this morning and he got a bit violent. He knocked me straight off my feet. I must've hit my head on the way down because when I woke up hours later, he was gone. I’ve been running all over the city looking for him.” Enji said, putting a hand behind his neck as if he were embarrassed. In his pajamas with messy hair and bags under his eyes. The man looked like nothing more than a disgruntled dad. The nurse was already eating the act up and eyeing him with pity as if Shouto was the real problem here, not his father.

“Oh how terrible! Does he usually have violent outbursts?”

“He does but it’s not his fault. The commission should have never allowed the students to help aid in battle. His brain suffered serious damage from the fight that will affect him for the rest of his life. Ever since he’s been having trouble taking in his surroundings and remembering that he's no longer fighting. He has no way to distinguish reality from his delusions and often confuses myself and others for villains.” Enji spoke gravely, eyes glistening as if what he was saying were true.

“Stop lying! I’m not crazy! He’s lying! Tell her the truth!” Shouto’s shouting was ignored; they spoke over him like he wasn’t even there.

“Oh dear, that is very concerning. Is he currently being treated for these issues? Why isn’t she listening? Why can’t she see he’s lying?

“Yes, he’s currently out of school to be treated.” His father answered, sounding exhausted.

“He mentioned something about needing to see his mother and his schooling.”

“Yes he has a certain delusion where he believes his mother is in danger and only he can save her. He most likely–”

“Stop it! Tell the truth! Tell her! Say it you damn liar!” He felt like he was going to burst a blood vessel as he screamed. Why is no one listening to him? Why does no one else ever see the man for what he truly is? A monster, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Why can no one ever see past the word hero?

“Oh no the poor dear is becoming quite hysterical, would you like me to administer a mild sedative to quiet him down?”

“That would be great, thank you.” His father answered with a bone tired sigh, that even he would believe if he didn’t see the corners of his lips quirking up as the nurse turned around to prepare the medication.

“Alright it’ll just feel like a little pinch. I’m sure a big boy like you can handle that right?”

“No stop please! I don’t want that!” He flinched as he felt the needle piercing his skin.

“There there, you’ll start feeling better in a minute sweetheart.”

“N-nothing w-rong…wi’t me.” Shouto slurred, trying his best to stay awake. Who knows what else his father may start lying about.

“One more thing I’d like to touch on before you leave today is his quirk usage. We noticed in an attempt to escape he tried to use his quirk on multiple occasions against the facility's doors and windows. Thankfully they are reinforced with quirk suppressing technology and we had cuffs on hand for particularly powerful patients but it would have been a very difficult situation if we didn't. Controlling his power output would be very helpful to prevent more accidents like this one from occurring. Modern suppressants are fairly low risk and come in chewable tablets for children or neck cuff form. I would really recommend them for your son.”

“No…no mor’..m-med’cin’...” Ignored once again. They were treating him like he was a pet that was too dumb to comprehend the conversation so they didn't bother trying to speak with him. Will everyone treat him like this? As soon as he speaks out against his father will they turn against him and treat him like a dumb pet too? “Will anyone ever believe him?”

“I’ll take both. I've been trying to get him on suppressants for a while now but his primary doctor kept insisting his behavior didn’t warrant them. Thank you so much for listening to me.” Why do they always listen to him?

“Of course! I just have to take off these cuffs now and switch them out for his necklace and he should be good to go.” Shouto tried to move once he felt the cuffs being removed but his body felt like it was full of lead, everything felt so heavy he could hardly wriggle his toes let alone lift an arm. He couldn’t fight against the sleek metal collar being placed around his neck clicking into place in a way he knew meant it had been locked.

“I’ll send over that prescription to your nearest pharmacy and they should call you when it's ready to be picked up. If that's all you can go ahead and take him home. Have a good day!”

“Thank you so much for your help. We’ll be off now.” Enji carried the limp boy out of the room walking through the halls towards the exit quite pleased with himself.

“H-he’ crazy…don’t wan’a go! D-don’ let..h’m…take m-me!” Shouto slurred one last call before the doors closed. Urging someone, anyone to help him, to come save him. As usual his call was ignored as it had been his entire life.

“They won’t believe you Shouto. Do you want to know why? Because who would ever believe a sick little boy over the Number One Hero? It’s your word against mine. And your word means nothing . It never has and it never will.” Enji whispered into his ear, shushing his son softly as he began to cry. Soft cries turned into wails as he slipped into headspace.

“Oh baby mine don't you cry. Daddy loves you so much.” His father cooed, patting him gently on the back while rocking him side to side. To everyone else in the hospital he just seemed like a caring father doting on his poor sick son, none of them could see the unhinged glint in his eye or hear the crazed tone of obsession in his voice. “We'll be going home soon.” The place where you will stay once and for all.

✧❅🕯❅✧

Omakes

-Izuku spotting Shouto's hair in the crowd: Now wait a damn minute🤨

Shouto running away: I am speed 💨

-Enji to Shouto this entire fic: Gaslight💋, Gatekeep✨, Girlboss💅

-Enji: I will never ever hurt you again~𖹭

Also Enji: No one will ever believe you because no one cares about you or what you have to say.

Shouto: Guess he just meant physically🫤

#platonic yandere #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere enji todoroki #shouto todoroki #enji todoroki #parental yandere #boku no hero academia #mha fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha

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rubyvhs · 6 months ago

Text

part seven, too much, too little time [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

seven,

"Rewind. You got pregnant? When? Did you give birth?"

"No," She lets out another sob. I furrow my eyebrows but Gen seems to get it as she gasps slightly, hugging Danneel closer to her. Gen's eyes start to tear up too and when i finally realize, i don't think i can handle it.

I so so desperately want to leave this conversation, but I know what the right thing to do is; stay next to my best friend and let her cry into our shoulders. We’re all waiting for the tears to dry while I hear hearing Jensen keeping the other two girls busy in the kitchen. He seems to know what's going on here.

"I just— i couldn't keep it. I don't want to." We nod quickly, not wanting her to think we're judging her.

"Hey," Gen forces their eyes to make contact, "You don't explain yourself to us. We're here for you, always." She hesitates but nods anyways, trying to dry the river of tears that streamed down her face in less than ten minutes.

"Go wash your face, we're here." She listens to my words and i let out a sigh. I can't believe she bottled it up like that. I lean my head against Gen as Jensen and the girls come in to sit around too.

My voice is quieter this time for only Gen to hear since the three are still in conversation about the kids and their show. "Why'd you think she kept it?"

"I'm not sure," she sighs, looking through her phone's contacts, "She’s Danneel. She always wants to be the tough one, maybe it had something to do with that."

"Yeah. Maybe. It's still... it doesn't sit right with me. Danneel has been with me through so many things and then she just left because she was hurt. She keeps pushing me away over and over again and i don't know how many times i can pull her in." Gen seems to agree with me because she isn't on her phone anymore, this time she's laying me on her chest and we're joining the random conversation around the room just for the sake of it. Danneel comes back and the girls greet her with worry and love, Jensen hosts us some drinks and sits next to his wife, his arm resting on the couch behind her head.

They look so much like they used to just a year ago but still so different. He's not constantly touching her and kissing her.

It's new for all of us.

“You okay?” Gen’s words pull me out of my trance, so I nod against her chest. Me and her and curled up on the red couch, Jensen and Danneel on the one next to us while the other two girls are on the floor, resting against the beanbags.

The whole house is very Danneel, it always has been. She had all the creative freedom in the world to decorate this mansion in anyway she wanted— Jensen had never told her no. Though, her freedom has much more to do with Jensen knowing he’d mess it up than it being a cute gesture.

We all enjoy coming to sit with them whenever we can, and whenever they invite us. Christmas parties, birthdays, brunches— you name it, the Ackles have probably hosted it. Their house is large enough to fit the whole cast and still have room (maybe that’s an exaggeration) so we all like to come by and have drinks. Besides, they love doing it. Danneel’s eyes occasionally leave me the whole day, even when I’m not talking, she’s looking at me— as if waiting for me to do or say something. An hour after when Jensen decides he’ll order us all Mexican and leaves us in the room, we all huddle up on the floor. Me in between Gen and Dee. “You know, we miss you on set. You used to come all the time— you still should.”

I nod at Gen’s words, “Yeah, Dee. No matter the circumstances it’s your set. ‘Sides, you’re coming anyways to play Sister Jo in a couple of weeks.”

“Right,” She shakes her head in disdain, “I couldn’t get out of that.”

“Why would you want to?” Alona asks.

“Just… not in the headspace, you know? I’d rather not take up any projects right now. Lily said I should do it though.” We all seem to agree with her agent’s words as we nod at her, voicing it.

“Dee, you’re an incredible actor, and you haven’t done anything in… too long. You should do this, Lily’s right.” She sighs, nodding.

“I know she is, I will do it. I’m excited to see all of the cast again.” She faces Gen with a smile, “‘Specially Jare. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Yeah, he asks about you.” Dee’s eyes soften and I sink in my beanbag at the sight. If all it took was letting her know we care about her to get her to calm down, we would’ve made this visit ages ago. “We’re all excited to have you back. And I’m excited to play again.” We all laugh, praising her as she flips her hair around, expecting it. If anyone is in love with their character— it’s Genevieve Ruby Cortese.

“Y’all ready to bring Meg and Jo back?” I tease the two girls as they also sass me back. God, these celebrities. “Can someone convince Bob to bring Jo and Dean back together in heaven?” Alona rolls her eyes at me and i move closer, holding both her hands in mine, “Please, ‘Lona! We need it! We all do.”

“I’m pretty sure the whole fandom does.”

“Who did you think I was referring to?” She scoffs with a playful smile, snatching her hands back. “You’d do us all a favor. I swear if Dean dies loveless—”

“Why do you think he’s dying?”

“Do y’all think I’m stupid? ‘Course they’re killing Dean. They fucking hate him.” Jensen chooses that glorious moment to come into the room, passing Dee’s phone back to her, confirming he ordered us the food.

“Now,” he settles behind his wife, “What was that about hating Dean?” His green eyes stare right back at mine and bashfulness gets the best of me as I shrug— God, please take me.

“Just that… he shouldn’t die alone, you know?”

“Yeah, with you. But it also wouldn’t make sense to give him a random lover at the end of his days.” I straighten up once I notice he’s actually taking this seriously, like he wants to know my opinion. Like it matters.

“I said Jo. I mean he likes her and they never actually did anything which kinda mean something to Dean cause he fucks anything that walks— so I just—” Suddenly my tongue fails me as everyone in the room bursts into a fit of laughter, Jensen putting a hand on Dee’s shoulder as he laughs along, “Sorry, just mean their relationship’s significant.”

“We know what you mean,” He dismisses my concerns, “And that would actually be good. I mean we tried the whole Jo thing back in season five.” He looks over at Alona quickly, who gives him a reassuring smile that she’s fine with it. She’s came to terms with how fast they left her character, how fast they dismissed her for no fucking reason. “But we can try to give it another go. His end and all that— wait who spoiled it?”

“What?”

“How’d you know he’s dying?”

“It’s supernatural, of course he’s dying. I figured it out, you just confirmed it.” He shakes his head with a grin, “And anyways, I’m not watching the episode.”

“What? The series finale?”

“Yeah, I’m not breaking my heart like that— that’s just cruel.” They all seem to highly agree with me as we move onto the next topic and the next and the next. I put my hand over Danneel’s every once in a while, squeezing her thigh too. I like being in contact with her, it helps remind me (and maybe even her) that this isn’t it. This isn’t where our friendship ends, we’re still going strong. We always will.

After a few hours filled with Mexican food, tiramisu we brought for them, and hanging out with the kids, we decide to head out, all of us admitting it's a long drive back. "'Sides, we want you to have time with the kids. We just wanted to come say hi, and I’m sure we overstayed our welcome,” i throw my hands up to the sky that’s starting to darken, the sun setting, “maybe we can do it again and not be so distant." I shoot Danneel a look as i say that, hoping to get a confirmation out of her.

"Yeah," Jensen's the one to speak up, "'Course."

I saw my best friend today, but i also didn't really get to see her. She's been sitting next to Jensen the whole time, joining in on the conversation mostly when he does or when he gives her a look. She doesn't look fragile, not like she did when she was in me and Gen's arms, but she's not her usual happy self. She's much more reserved.

I give her one more look and see her smile weakly. I smile too, because even if she's going through it, at least she's trying. "Yeah. We'll see you on set."

Danneel furrows her eyebrows, "Lils, you on the show?"

"No, just go to annoy those sons of bitches to no end." Gen laughs first, getting it all too quickly before we all join in. "And I’ll be there when you come back next week too."

"Yeah," she nods once, "it's been great seeing all of you. Have a safe drive back." We all say our goodbyes with kisses and hugs before i reach Jensen. I don't know why he scares me like this, in this all-consuming, never ending, nerve-wrecking way. I don't know how to act or be around him, I want to be perfect. And I’m far from it.

"Hi," i say slowly, although i know i'm supposed to be saying 'bye'. I don't think clearly when he's around me. It's too hard to do so.

"Hey, sweetheart. Thank you for today," He seems to be thanking me for helping Danneel out more than she has, "y'all really helped cheer her up. And i'm glad i got to see you."

"You see me everyday, Ackles." I smile, leaning back a little so we weren't standing too close. So we weren't standing like him and Danneel always stand.

"Yeah, first time we got to talk though," he says it teasingly but the guilt follows the second the words leave his mouth. I want to freakin' forget that ever happened, even if I did it for years.

"Yeah i'm—"

"Hey, no, ‘m just teasing. You're fine. Don't apologize. It’s all over now." I nod once and pull him in for a hug, this time it isn't a side one, and we aren't 'hardly touching' we're fully flush against one another and his way too muscular arms wrap around my back, it makes me dizzy. He quickly lets go though and i notice how long we've been talking. "I'll see you Wednesday." He rubs my back once, and i set off with the girls, all getting into the Jeep. I decide to drive this time. I need the distraction.

When we drop everyone off Rachel's tired so she says she'll take me home and stay with me the night. She let us use her Jeep and finish off her gas a couple of times, so of course i agree. I get dressed for bed and tell her to use the bathroom and my wardrobe as she pleases as I rest my back on the headboard, going over notes.

"I don't get it." She says as she ties her hair up. "You have a date with Jensen?" I roll my eyes, "so you have a not-date with Jensen?"

"Yes," i say quickly, "that's exactly it. Not a date, just two friends hanging out."

"Laila, y'all are not friends."

"Are so—"

"You avoid him like— no, worst that the plague."

"Used to—"

"Just last week you ran to go paint your car."

"That's different—"

"A day before that it was cause your cats sick. You don't have a cat." I sigh in exasperation, throwing my book onto the bed. "'Sides, don't you think he's a little too old for you. You're still in college. Jensen's married with kids."

"Nuh-uh. Was married. And i'm not dating him."

"You want to though," i decide it's futile to argue or deny so i don't react, sliding further into my bed. She joins me on it. My crush on Jensen is far too obvious to the girls, i can't try to hide it anymore no matter how guilty i feel.

"I don't wanna hurt Dee." I sigh, looking up at my best friend. "She's my girl, she's the one who introduced me to all of you, she was my rock when i first came to America— I don't want to lose her over a guy, a guys who's rightfully hers."

"He's not anyone's, he's Jensen Ackles. He's a human being. You can try to not hurt Dan all you want but if he likes you the same way you do him, it won't matter what you both do, it's inevitable."

"I’ve liked him for years, Rach. Why's he noticing now? I liked a guy for eight years once, never dated him in my life, cause he had a girlfriend and i'm not doing that, obviously. Now jensen talks to me once and i'm falling at his feet? Why'd i agree to go out with him? I'm a horrible—"

"Hey! Stop it. Laila, you're an incredible person because you care this much about how Danneel's gonna feel even if it has nothing to do with her." I sigh and she moves closer on the bed to me, a hand in my hair, "They're not together. He likes you. You like him. It's not wrong."

"Then why's it feel like is it?"

"'Cause you're a good person, Lils. Danneel is not the obstacle between you and a relationship with Jensen."

I tilt my head to the side, straightening up, "What is?"

"His age, for one. I'm sure he feels strongly about that."

"He's never mentioned it. He's not that much older, just 20 years." She lets out a small laugh, teasingly.

"You sound like one of his fangirls."

"Shut up. JJ is four, i'm much older than she is, it's not like he's as old as my father is either— okay that's not a good point to make but my dad was a child when he had me.”

"Right. What about his kids?"

"What about them? JJ and the twins love me!"

"Enough to call you mommy?" I choke back a laugh, "i'm serious, Lils! You want jensen, you gotta be in it for the long game. He's a celebrity whose life is scrutinized, you can't just come in and out whenever you want without causing some serious backlash on him." I love that Rachel is being fair to both me and Jensen when she lists out the reasons. She's always been my very own pros and cons list, who even cares enough about the other person to mention what might hurt them.

"They won't call me mommy. Dee is their mom. I'm still aunt leela."

"Who's sleeping with daddy."

I roll my eyes slap her shoulder, "Shut up! I don't even know why we're talking about this, he didn't even say it's a date."

"Yeah, but what if he asks you on one? Besides, Wednesday's tomorrow. You even think of how you're gonna manage to spend the day with him when you have a final on Friday?"

"How'd you—"

"Got your schedule a while back. I know how shy you get, you can't reschedule and you definitely don't cancel. You study enough for this final?"

"It isn't a final, just a mock. The final's still next week."

"You study for the mock?" I shake my head and glare down at my book, dull notes on the Lymphatic system staring back at me. Maybe I'm not fully prepared, but it's good enough. Mocks don't matter that much anyways. "Mocks are important," it's as if I'm an open book with these people, "just as important as finals. You can't skip out on it and you can't fail it."

"M'not failing. I studied. Rach, he's Jensen Ackles, not my next door neighbour, I can't cancel on him."

"That not how you think of friends, that's how you think of celebrities. If all Jensen is to you is just another a celebrity then it'll never work out, you'll just be too scared to ever ask him for anything, not like you need any help in that." I'm about to fight back, say anything, but instead I throw my hands up and then cover my face groaning.

"This fucking sucks." I uncover my eyes to see her nod and i sigh. "Let's go to sleep. I'll think about it later."

I won't, I don't need to, I just need to go out with Jensen and finish the date as fast as it started so I could pass my mock.

part eight

guysss, we’re getting the big date/non-date next chapter (which is 4k words I don’t even know how to apologize for that) but so so excited!

Taglist; @kr804573

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kitkatpancakestack · 4 months ago

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Hi! So, many medical students across the country will be starting school in the next several weeks. As I'm a usamerican medical student I can only speak from my perspective in america. What I'm saying definitely isn't news to the people who will understand. But sometimes it helps to hear someone say it. It helps when I hear someone say it. So. Okay.

Congrats on getting in! You should be proud. You should savor this moment before it begins. And you should understand the work that is ahead of you. And you should remember:

if you are not white and you haven't been indoctrinated into a certain livelihood since you were little, the medical educational system does not want you.

They aren't looking to be representative of the country and they aren't looking to entertain change. The clubhouse is like fort Knox and you truly cannot know how dire it is until you're part of it. Or until you're kept on the periphery of it. The hostility, the dismantling of affirmative action, the fiscal mutilation of historically black medical colleges, the gross ignorance and neglect of the Indian Health Service and resulting socioeconomic disparities...and I could go on. I'm a black identifying student so I can only speak from that perspective. And I cant speak from the perspective of other healthcare occupations, although I know it's just as bad.

To the students: They do not want you if you threaten their freedoms, if you threaten their power, if you threaten the very architecture of the cult they have fortified. If you are a POC, if you are working class, if you are a first gen, if you want to strengthen the weakest or the neediest among us, you are an inherent threat by virtue of existing. It's bad form to call for eugenicide of medical education but they'll just use more tactful terms instead.

My father wanted to be a doctor in the 1980s. Smartest man I have ever met. Would have made waves. But he couldn't afford it. Not by a longshot. And the administration had all the black students (3) they could stomach at the time anyway. Threatened him into withdrawing his application. I say this bc the barriers still exist, far before the ones that arise once you get in. I say this bc if you trend the number of black male doctors back then and the number today, it is essentially a flat line.

I say this bc if I have to hear one more white person complain about unfair application advantages for poc I might do something drastic. It's the weirdest Privileged White Person Disease when they can only comprehend other marginalized groups gaining equity as meaning their own rights will be halved or diminished. Imagine having the luxury to live in that delusion.

I say this bc I have future premeds talking to me about this, and you have to be honest but you can't be defeatist. When it's stacked against you from the start it isn't easy, but if it's your dream, if you can hold onto the difference you can make to get you through the shit they will throw at you, you have to try. You have to fight as hard as you can for that change. you have to do it for your family and for your community. I want my black brothers and sisters to survive and I want my black brothers and sisters to be in the room with me making the decisions that impact future healthcare.

I say this bc I know it's bleak, and it will feel awful, and you will feel disrespected and unwanted, but we belong here. This space is ours too. We deserve it. Don't cave to fear. Do what you need to do in the meantime. We will fight for you until you get here.

#k spirals #personal #med school things #sheesh srry i know i dont get into it too often but this week has been something else

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anxious-witch · 10 months ago

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The color between my lines

Summary: The story of the Bojan and Kris is pretty simple. They liked each other, they dated, they broke up. Almost broke up a band over it, too. Really the fact that they are such good friends now is a miracle in itself.

Kris has kept a careful balance ever since. Letting his feelings get the best of him already got him hurt once. He will not do it again. Except, when Jere enters the equation and Bojan seems to be interested in the Finn, can Kris truly let him go? Or will he risk their friendship in an attempt to try again?

Pairings: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin

Warnings: mentions of bullying, an unnamed character getting his arm broken, homophobia, mentions of past bullying Kris experienced

Notes:

On AO3

Okay, so first and foremost, a big thank you to @occhi-verdi-come-il-mare for beta reading this and helping me iron some details, and to @reserved-fruit for letting me expand on one of the prompts she got, I am really thankful to you both <3

Second of all, I know this chapter is a bit short, I was getting into bokris dynamics for the first time and I wanted to give a bit of the backstory first. I hope I did them justice. This fic will probably have 2-3 chapters if I don't get carried away. So yeah, enjoy

Kris’ life, for the most part, was a carefully constructed set of rules. Like a sketchbook full of drawings. You were meant to color it, but there were specific colors you should use and you needed to color in between the lines.

Simple.

Or, it was, before Bojan slowly but surely pushed his way in his life.

Coloring his life over any and all lines, like he couldn't see them at all and breathing to life the colors Kris couldn't have even imagined.

It was a slow but inevitable dance they played, exchanging jabs towards each other. A push and pull, forever circling each other.

“That song doesn't have distortions.” Turned into “I still think you are annoying, but sure, we can hang out after school.” Then, “Please don't faint when you meet my dad.”

“I don't think I ever would have picked up a guitar if it wasn't for you.”

Was it truly a surprise for them to end up together?

“I don't think I ever felt this way about anyone,” Bojan said to him, his eyes wide and honest.

They were at the park, in the middle of the night, sitting on a blanket Kris sneakily took from the far end of the closet. He didn't like sneaking out at night, but only this late did they dare to be this close outside.

Besides, it was summer. It was warm and they had no obligations outside of band practices. Kris thought that for once, he could relax a bit and let himself be a bit more laid back.

Bojan passed his hand through Kris’ short hair and Kris pretended it didn't make him shiver.

“Because you had so many experiences with dating in the first seventeen years of your life?”

Bojan lightly slapped his arm.

“I had a girlfriend before!”

Kris snorted.

“Right. The one you dated for…what? Two weeks?”

“Three!”

“My mistake.”

Bojan pushed him on his back as Kris laughed and kissed him. It was a sure way to quickly end most of their arguments.

And even those were far and few in those first few months of their relationship.

Months were passing quickly, though and as summer melted into autumn and then the beginning of winter, things started to change.

It was on a particularly cold night, after a gig they did that they found themselves in Kris’ house. His parents knew about it by this point, and having expressed their approval, allowed Bojan to come over when he liked.

This was how they ended up lying in Kris’ bed, the post gig adrenaline slowly dying down. Bojan was always hit with the low especially hard afterwards, so Kris made sure he didn't leave him alone after.

“Don't you sometimes wish we could just…go away?” Bojan whispered in the dark.

Kris circled his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

Kris felt his heart squeeze painfully at the bitterness in Bojan's voice. He gently turned him so he'd face him.

“What are you saying? Why do you want to leave? I never heard you talk like this before.”

Bojan's eyes were piercing, even in the darkness of Kris’ bedroom.

“I just…don't you wish we could just hold hands in public? Kiss? Just, be ourselves?”

Kris carefully considered his words, his hand automatically intertwining with Bojan's.

“I mean, yes. But we have the time. It's not now or never. We are barely eighteen.”

Bojan huffed, turning his head away. Kris gently turned it back to him.

“Where is all this coming from?”

Bojan shrugged, but Kris could feel there was something deeper than that. So he waited.

“There is a guy from the same year as me, but in a different class. Someone broke his arm during recess today.”

Kris felt the chill sink into his bones despite being in a warm bedroom.

“Oh my God. What happened? Did they do it…on purpose?”

There was slight hesitation before Bojan nodded. Then, all at once, it clicked for Kris.”

“They did it because he is gay.”

It wasn’t a question, but Bojan nodded again. Oh Bojan, Kris thought.

“Are you…” Kris trailed off, unsure what the right word was. Scared? Angry?

“...okay?”

Bojan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m peachy, but I am not the one with a broken arm, am I?”

“Bojči…”

“Don’t.”

They fell silent, but the tension stayed, hanging heavily in the air. Too heavy for Kris’ childhood bedroom, too heavy than anything that hung between them before.

Kris thought of middle school where people called him a girl and a fag until he cut him hair. How he could have easily been the one to get his arm broken in slightly different circumstances. Yet, what could he say to all that? They couldn’t exactly just pack up and move away on a whim, could they?

Besides, they wouldn’t be in high school forever. For Bojan it was only a few months left, while for Kris, it was one more year. College would be different, they just had to bid their time until then.

There were so many things Kris could say, but Bojan looked so small and exhausted, Kris didn't want to push. When he was angry or felt something was unfair, he could be quite stubborn. Pressing the issue could only result in more argument.

“Alright, maybe we should just go to sleep and talk about this some other time, yeah?”

Bojan looked up at him for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. Kris let him, unsure what he was looking for, exactly. Then, after a moment Bojan simply nodded and wrapped around Kris tighter, as if he was trying to melt into him. Kris chuckled and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“Goodnight Bojči.”

“Goodnight Krisko.”

It didn't get better.

Ever since that night, Bojan kept pushing the issue. Saying how, if they stay, they'll cave under the pressure, get stuffed into a mold and then it'll be too late.

Kris didn't understand. They were still themselves and while certainly, the situation wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t dire either. They were only eighteen. Where would they go? And how?

Bojan didn't seem to have a definitive answer to that, so they stopped arguing. But Kris could tell it didn't leave his mind. Then, things got worse.

Bojan began pulling away. There was no other way of describing it. Not just pulling away from Kris, but from the band, too. Kris wasn't sure what shifted, but ever since Bojan got a new music teacher, he seemed to have completely shifted his worldview.

He kept missing practice and saying he just didn't have a clear idea on the new song they started working on.

Their dates became fewer too, although it did seem Bojan put more effort into maintaining their relationship than he did in maintaining the band.

Kris did wonder why he looked so tired all the time, though. What was he doing?

He came knocking at his front door one day after class and Bojan's mom greeted him. He saw a surprise flash over her face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Cvjetićanin.”

“Kris, you know you can call me Snežana. But also Bojan isn't home yet.”

Kris made a split second decision to lie and find out what had been happening with Bojan lately. So he smiled, hoping he came off as sheepish and earnest at the same time.

“I actually wanted to come a bit earlier and surprise him, since he had been so busy lately…”

Snežana's face turned understanding.

“Yeah, of course. Come in. You can wait in his room if you'd like. Do you want anything to drink?”

After a bit of small talk with Snežana, Kris found himself in Bojan's room. It was somehow even more of a mess than usual.

What drew Kris in was a stack of papers neatly put on the table. Or well, as neatly as one could expect from Bojan.

When he picked one up, he found they were song lyrics. Not the song lyrics of the new song Kris had been begging Bojan to work on, though. No.

This was-this wasn't even the kind of song that suited the band. And the notes on it confirmed Kris’ suspicion.

It was a solo song.

Kris slowly sat on the bed, the paper still in his hands. He stared blankly, his brain trying to catch up to what he was seeing.

There was only white static in his head, his heart drumming in his ears. Then, the doors opened and Bojan was standing in the doorway.

Kris felt as if time slowed down. He looked up at him. Saw as Bojan's expression flickered between surprised, to fond. Then, his eyes slowly focused on the paper Kris was holding. His face paled.

“Kris, I-”

“Are you leaving the band?”

Bojan closed his mouth, then opened it, then closed it again. The pressure in Kris’ head grew, static turning into white-hot rage.

“Are you leaving the fucking band?!”

Bojan flinched back, his foot hitting the door behind him. Kris breathed in through his teeth.

“I don't know yet. But-probably.”

Kris closed his eyes. Tried to breathe through his anger and something awfully close to heartbreak.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Kris’ hand trembled as he dragged them through his own hair, nails scratching over the scalp, attempting to ground himself with the pain.

“Humor me.”

“Statistically, solo singers are more likely to make it in the industry.”

He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. His breaths came out as labored. He couldn't bring himself to look at Bojan at all.

“So that's what this is about? You want so badly to get away from here, you are willing to leave all of us behind?”

“No!”

Kris finally opened his eyes to see Bojan walking towards him and kneeling down to take Kris’ hands in his own.

“You-you could come with me. If it all works out as it should.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Bojan's voice sounded so small, as if pleading him to understand. Kris did understand. But understanding wasn't enough.

“How would that even work? We both agreed we'd have plan B. How do you think this will work with college? Besides, if we are not doing this as a band, how would I even go with you?”

Bojan didn't say anything, which was an answer in itself.

“Is this what your new music teacher told you? Is he pushing you to-”

“He is not pushing me to do anything! I want to do this!”

The black line, crudely drawn across all the other line and colors, cutting it in half.

“Well then,” Kris said, his voice coming out strangely calm, almost frosty, “I suppose there is nothing more to say.”

He saw the exact moment his words hit Bojan, his eyes widening and his face paling even further.

“Wait. Are you breaking up with me?”

Kris felt as if he was in some sort of trance, all his fiery rage turning to ice. He pulled his hands from Bojan's grasp.

“I guess I am.”

He stood up and Bojan did as well, grabbing on to his arms. Kris tried to shake him off, but Bojan held firm.

“No, wait-please listen to me!”

“What is there to listen to? You want to leave? Fine! There is nothing holding you back now!”

Kris began walking towards the door, but then Bojan grabbed him again and pinned him to the door. Kris exhaled shakily and then he was being kissed.

Bojan had never kissed him like this before. So desperate and full of despair. Kris kissed him back and cupped Bojan's face, finding it wet with tears.

By the time he pulled away, they were both breathless.

“Stay,” Bojan whispered, his hot breath ghosting over his lips.

“Only if you do.”

Bojan's face twisted up in pain.

“I can't, Kris I have to try. If I don't try, I'll always wonder what would have happened if I tried. I'm sorry.”

Kris’ ice shield broke and tears slid down his cheeks too.

“I'm sorry, too,” he said and pushed him away.

This time, Bojan didn't try to stop him. Kris walked past the kitchen and living room, hearing Snežana humming to the radio, blissfully unaware.

For the first time, Kris didn't say goodbye to her when he left.

He got out on the street and simply walked. Winter sunset painted the sky in beautiful orange and yellow colors, but Kris felt completely devoid of color.

Like a coloring book with pages torn out and discarded, all the colors uneven and ugly. For the first time he saw them all, but they held no beauty and no warmth.

He swore he would never, ever let Bojan break his heart again. He would never even talk about him ever again.

He was done.

#bokris #joker out #my writing #I really hope this shows up in the tag lmao #the color between my lines

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chromatic-lamina · 8 months ago

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Writing Patterns

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

What way to waste a bit of time on an otherwise busy day! Tagged by @purplehairedwonder

Tagging @afterdeck-ace , @gendervapor14 , @gali-la @ensignsenna @cal-cium-the-nerd @escapaldi and anyone (I mean it) else who'd like to play/try! If you haven't got 10 posted fics, then aim for 4 or 5 or however many you do have posted.

tadpoles in a clawfoot tub

One Piece | G | Gen | 1.9 K | Pre-Marineford, Garp and Roger and then Garp and Ace parallels

Rayleigh didn't know why he bothered.

valuta

One Piece | G | Gen |2 K | Cora & Doffy, Cora & Sengoku, Cora & Law, Law & Sengoku | the story behind Law's coin collection (or one of them)

"Your grandmother's and hers before that."

Riding Along on my Pushbike, Honey (You Look so Pretty)

One Piece | T | Gen | 3.3 K | Aokiji and Law | post Luffy Pirate King AU, Aokiji, Law and Bleat the goat go for a cycle along a frozen river

The mountain streams were filled with smooth basalt like the one Law carried in his pocket.

Taxi

One Piece | M | AceLaw but not all chapters | 17.6K | AU Law's a taxi driver and picks up a myriad of customers*

Older fic which I reuploaded the 3rd chapter to. I'll open with that, cos the first chapter opening's a bit confronting

Solid advice applied wrongly. Law was good at it.

Forty-Two Superior Teeth

One Piece | T | Law and core hearts | 2.6K | Law and the core Hearts dream on Swallow Island

One thing Bepo had was a super thick skin, and just as well, 'cos those boots were steel-capped.

Bioluminescent Hearts*

(spoilers chapter 1081)

One Piece | T | Law, Hearts, Blackbeard, Saul | 5.7K | Law and the Hearts all manage to escape well from BB.

Last on first off, the helmsman was a position usually held by the lowest rank, the newest recruit.

Heart Pirates Week 2023: Jean Bart: Scars

One Piece | T | Law, Hearts, fiiclets | 1.8K total| title says it all

The wooden deck of the Polar Tang wasn't that practical.

MarcoLaw OP Rare Pair Month Drabbles and Ficlets

One Piece | T | MarLaw, Marco and Law Ficlets | 1.8K total| there was only one bed

Law couldn't contain himself to one bed.

Something Old, Something New

One Piece | T | Zoro, | about 500 words| Zoro reflects on rainy days

One eye closed still had depth.

Bepo’s Drabble and One Shot Collection

One Piece | T | Hearts, Ikkaku, Hakugan, Law, Bepo| about 800 words| , chapter 15. Slice of life aboard the Tang

The thing about the huge, huge, huge beanbag that Hakugan had lugged on board when he'd joined them (packed to the softly- moulding-brim with snow geese feathers collected from friends and family), was that it was very white, and so was Bepo.

Sun Path Ozoni

One Piece | T | Hearts and Law| 1275 words| The Hearts debate whose New Year tradition is best, and enjoy a summer celebration.

"Nah man, you gotta use the soy broth."

Patterns: I am writing a lot of Hearts stuff (some due to zines), and also am not writing as much as I used to (busy, and have only got so much to say!). Anyhoo: my openings are relatively short, bar the last one. I don't open with dialogue as much as I thought I did. A touch of description is common, or an internal observation. General observations seem to be popular too.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law #heart pirates #monkey d. garp #roronoa zoro #one piece fanfic #chromafic #chromafics #writing patterns #chromalami

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basedkikuenjoyer · 3 months ago

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Now these two that came next were my jam. One of the first times I really got hyped for something to release. A whole new world we live in, a whole new place to see. (Do-de-do-da-loo-loo) But the vibes man...the vibes are immaculate. I understand there are some critiques of Johto and Gen 2, I do hear them. I just don't care because the vibes are immaculate. Okay, but seriously because I often think they're a case of not judging based on what the game was trying to do. The idea of generations still wasn't established. Gold/Silver were sequels, and realistically most people probably thought the last ones. The fad couldn't last forever.

Even if Pokemon is still a huge deal, I remember it like this. Just about everyone in my 3rd Grade class had Red, Blue, or Yellow. Just about all of the kids who already played video games regularly got Gold or Silver, by the next year with Crystal...I was kinda weird for getting it. But c'mon, it was the one you could play a girl! By then Yugioh was starting to creep in. But I'm glad we got to have collective fun with GSC. It might not seem like much, but the little IR strip Mystery Gift was a cool, cool social feature for the era. I remember a really fun time we had a chess tournament when these games were hot. So much free swag between rounds. And does anyone remember the Brain boy? It was like, a Pokemon-specific GameShark type device.

This is where the philosophy behind Pokemon design I love emerged. Day/Night cycles, day of the week events...it feels way less important when you can gamify it and you turbo through it all on an emulator. But for how kids used a Game Boy at the time? Oh when you're hopping on for 20 minutes before school every day it's amazing. This like, largely single player MMO vibe is what I love. You gave me a full RPG story to play through, but I have some incentive to keep fucking around. Which I had no trouble doing for Red. I put 100 hours into that, which Dad gave me shit for being proud of. I remember liking the mechanic of roaming legendaries and feeling really accomplished catching the Dogs.

I think this is also why I don't feel the gripe about Kanto. First off, hell yes getting to go to Kanto is awesome. The oft maligned level scaling and new Pokemon being hidden until after the Elite 4 suck as individual design choices in a vacuum, yes. But think about them together. It encourages you to switch up your Champion team. Try new ones and keep your ace around to make sure you stomp the routes no matter what. Use the rematches with people in your phone book. Or shore up the parts of your E4 team lagging behind because you probably got a bit staggered to get through Lance. Not to mention stuff like, Misdreavus is one of my all-time favorites but I get why it's left until Mt. Silver. For the time that was a very weird, experimental type of Pokemon you'd mostly want for link battles. The Johto gym leaders do need a tweak though, but respect for some tough battles like Whitney's Miltank, Claire's Kingdra, or Jasmine's Steelix. Not to mention the verisimilitude angle, maybe I want to feel like the current champion. It doesn't make sense for random trainers to be on Lance's level. The matches do get a little more creative if you don't just stomp everything because you want to avoid grinding for Red.

Once again though, the vibes are immaculate. Johto is made to be enjoyed at this leisurely place because it's very much Kyoto-inspired. The land has too much history to be in a rush and the heavy Japanese flavor is fun!

#Pokemon #Gen 2 #Pokemon gold and silver #Poke-ponderings

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nagdabbit · 1 year ago

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we collide with shoulder and steel chapter 5/25

rating: gen

words: 3.2k

also on ao3

Through the cracked glass, Bryan watched the boy wander about the courtyard. He carried a tattered notebook, fingertips darkened by charcoal as he scribbled away notes and plans.

"Why is he still here?" he asked aloud, voice jarring and harsh in the otherwise silent room. Though—the silence had become rarer the longer the boy stayed.

He'd been too startled by the boy's friendly demeanor to truly frighten Yuta away, but he'd expected him to be gone within days. Yuta was young, after all. He should've gotten bored and gone looking for a more exciting adventure than combing through Mox's books. He should've been brash and impulsive, he should've been changeable as the wind—there one moment and gone the next.

Bute hadn't gotten under foot, hadn't asked dangerous questions, hadn't tried to take Bryan's head off. He'd done nothing, and he was still fucking there.

"Why hasn't he left?"

On the sill beside him, pages fluttered, spilling plumes of dust up into the shafts of morning sunlight. The library windows were tall, pouring eastern light into the usually dark space. Even after all the years spent without incident, Mox still refused to allow the library fireplace to be lit, and Claudio was content to leave him be. It made for a quiet house, spending his days with Mox and his books and his evening stretched out before the kitchen hearth as Claudio crackled away.

The pages fluttered again as Mox sighed. He'd probably read the book at least a hundred times through the years. "Why d'you think?"

"Thinks he's going to kiss some poor, cursed beast, win a throne and live happily ever after?" Bryan suggested, though he knew it wasn't true. If anything, he seemed more enamored with Mox and Claudio than himself—though he often wondered if that was part of Yuta's plan. But what that plan was, he couldn't say for certain, but there had to be one. There had to be a reason. "Same as everyone else?"

"What is it about him that makes you think he's the same as anyone else?" Mox snorted, kicking up another plume of dust. He liked the boy a great deal. He had only been on the mountain a scant few weeks, and it was suddenly rare to hear silence from the library when the boy was inside. It always echoed with laughter, with the scrape of unshelved books and the flutter of turned pages. "He's not here for your hand."

"What else is he doing here?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" Mox muttered. The pages fluttered as he read, dust settling onto the ghost of his shoulders. He was fading, with each broken spine and faded page another piece of him became harder to see. "He's here because he wants to be."

Bryan felt a growl of annoyance rumble in his chest. "I don't know what to do with that."

"Don't do anything. You always fuck it up when you try to do things. Just let him do what he came to do, and let him go home once he's finished," Mox muttered, voice like cracked parchment. "He's been here, what? A month now? And the most questionable thing he's done is let one of Claudio's fires go out—which, I might add, he relit the moment he learned what that meant. Stop looking for menace where there is none."

"He could be playing you, too."

"Bryan, if you don't leave, I will topple my own bookcase down on top of you," Mox growled, and the book snapped closed with a loud crack as he disappeared in a whisp of dust.

He hadn't been half as dramatic before, but he'd learned to enjoy the simple finality of slamming a book closed in Bryan's face. Same could be said for Claudio and his penchant for putting out whatever candle Bryan was using, leaving him with darkness and a whisp of smoke. There were only so many joys left for the three of them, he had learned not to mind it too much.

Further into the cavernous room, he listened to the rasp as Jon unshelved a new book, and the soft rustle of pages.

Outside, Yuta was leaving smudges on his cheek as he studied his notes. He wore a deep frown, lost in thought. About what, Bryan had no idea. He made another mark, then snapped his book shut, and darted out of sight.

He reminded Bryan of Mox, at times, from when they were younger, practically kids themselves. Curious and brimming with energy, hands busy and eyes alert. Always learning and studying, always flitting about. He had an intensity to him, too. The kind of single-minded focus he could lose hours and days to.

Bryan pushed away from the window and left Mox to his books.

He could admit that Mox was right, to an extent. The kid hadn't intentionally caused trouble, hadn't snuck a knife between Bryan's ribs, hadn't come with torches or swords. He'd carried a pack leaden down with dried meats and pickled vegetables almost as old as he was. He brought dusty flour with him, and yeast—enough to make his own bread for months. Dried fruits and nuts and mushrooms, old enough Bryan thought they might crumble to dust if he looked at them long enough.

He came with plans, a book of notes and lists, a sack full of seeds. He carried a deeper hope than anyone Bryan had ever met. It was infuriating.

He found Yuta with a trowel in hand and sweat on his brow, as he worked the dull blade into the dry earth. He could see scrapes in the dirt, blocked out beds that he thought he'd be skilled enough to bring back to life. He'd climbed the mountain with too little fear, too little self-preservation, and far too much misplaced hope.

Bryan had to hand it to him, he'd never had his peace invaded by a homesteader. Someone with the overconfidence to build himself a home in a place he wasn't welcome. Someone foolhardy enough to plan for a future Bryan wanted no part of.

"You won't become a prince."

Yuta blinked up at him, visibly startled. His expression was confused, like the words hadn't even penetrated his focus. "What?"

"I'm not going to fall in love with you," Bryan said, looming over him. "We're not going to live happily ever after, there won't be a prosperous kingdom for you to rule over. There won't be maids or cooks or a garden for you to pick from. There's nothing here for you."

Yuta stared at Bryan for a long moment, then heaved a great, unimpressed sigh. He turned back to the dirt, continuing to break up the stiff soil with the rusted, broken trowel. His shoulders had gone tense at Bryan's interruption. "Not everything is about you, Bryan."

"Then why are you here? What else could you possibly want from me, if it's not my hide or my hand?"

"I told you, I'm here to try and fix the damage this curse has done," he snapped, flicking clods of dirt at Bryan's feet. "The rest is yours."

He rolled his eyes, "It's one and the same, child."

He whipped his head toward Bryan, glowering darkly. He pointed the trowel up at his face, "No, it isn't. A body decaying upstream will poison the water below."

"What does that have to do wi—"

"You are the problem, you idiot." He dropped the trowel in favor of hefting a clump of dirt and throwing it the short distance into Bryan's chest. "You are the decay, poisoning everyone down river. You could've tended this land, you could've cared. Instead you simply sat back and let everything around you die, simply because you no longer needed it. I'm not a gravedigger, Bryan, I'm a gardener."

He brushed the dirt from his fur and rolled his eyes. "That's a pretty metaphor." He'd encountered his fair share of pretty words, and all they ever did was distract.

He frowned, catching Bryan's dismissive tone. "You don't believe me "

"Of course I don't believe you."

"You really think I'm vain enough to delude myself? That I really think we'll fall in love and I'll kiss you everything will suddenly be better? For all of us?" he asked, snarling back as he scrambled up to his feet. He was usually so calm, so kind and polite. Even when he was visibly angry at Bryan, he remained calm. To see such a dark expression on his face was almost startling. "Fucks sake, enough people survived the climb back to the village that I know the stories they had to tell, every single one. I know well enough that I'm not the one to break whatever curse you got yourself saddled with. I'm not here to break anything."

"Then what—"

"Curses bleed, Bryan. They grow and spread and they poison and stain everything they touch," he growled, throwing down the trowel. Bryan had never seen anyone quite so angry, not in what felt like centuries. "The village down there? The one I was raised in? It's not just dying, Bryan, it's dead. There's a handful of people left, and they don’t even know they’re just ghosts haunting empty streets."

He took a step back, out of Yuta's space, the vitriol in his tone enough to shake even Bryan's anger loose. He finally saw the thin thread holding together Yuta's composure, the delicate strand of fraying desperation keeping him reigned in. He was cracked and broken and pasted back together so many times that he had barely the strength to hold himself upright any longer. He carried with him the weight of those who had come before, and all those that would come after, should nothing ever change. Beneath the world's weight on his shoulders, he cracked even further, held together by nothing but hope and fraying twine.

"I said I wasn't here to break the curse, and I meant it. If this curse ever breaks, I'm not convinced it'll heal anyone but you. This is your goddamn mess, I'm not here to solve it for you, I'm here to fix the wound your inaction has torn in the land. In my home." His expression was afraid, but not of Bryan. Not of monsters and magic. "My friends left for the city, running away from the rot that's been flowing down from this place, and I chose to stay.

"If no one tries to fix any of this, the rot won't stop at one village. It'll take the next one down the road, and the one beyond that. It'll take the cities, too, and it won't stop." His voice broke, wavered with the weight of all that fear, but he didn't back down. He'd watched his home fall to ruin, just as Bryan had, but he had the distance to see the scale of it. He saw a future that frightened him far more than Bryan's visage ever could. "If no one tries to heal this hurt, then there won't be anything left by the time you figure your shit out."

This boy stood before him, hands black with dirt and soot, and he didn't want anything more than to help. A well of kindness in him that would put Claudio's warmth to shame, and a snarling rage that burned just as bright Mox's. It had been too long since he'd met anyone worth the trouble to know. Everyone who'd come before had wanted something from him. Gold, a crown, his head, his home. This one, though, just wanted to help.

He saw Yuta, finally. If either of them posed a threat, it was Bryan's indifference—and he'd already done his fair share of damage. All Yuta had asked for was a chance. To do something, just a chance to try.

Bryan took a measured breath, trying to calm the last flickers of anger licking at his ribcage. "Alright."

Yuta narrowed his eyes. "Alright?"

"I'll stop being an asshole."

Hands on his hips, he scoffed and rolled his eyes, but took Bryan at his word. "I doubt you're capable of that," he murmured, but it sounded far closer to his usual self than he had a moment ago. He was far too quick to forgive. "Come on, then. The least you could do is help me."

"The least I could do is nothing," he grumbled, but knelt at Yuta's side all the same.

"You've already done nothing, and just look where it's gotten us." The boy threw another cold of dirt, but it was less desperate, and more playful. "Try doing something for a change."

The earth was rough and hard beneath his knees. It had been so long since he'd spent time in the garden, William's cold, unseeing gaze too heavy to carry on his own.

Then again, Yuta's burden was far heavier and the boy had carried it alone for what must have been the length of his own lifetime, living beneath the long shadow of Bryan's shame. What a coward he would be, to think his shame would outweigh the damage he'd done. All he'd done was haunt the halls as they grew quieter and quieter, never paying any mind to those that remained.

He cast another glance toward the statue of his William, lonely and still, and took up a tool on his own.

#a tale as old as balls #aew fanfiction #aew fic

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