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taegularities · 2 years ago

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Omg the first scene w the door😭😭😭 how jk felt her presence just proves how strong their connection is, it was so sad seeing how bad oc needed closure even though she knew she couldn’t handle it

“If you’d stayed just a little longer, you would’ve realised that his heart beats in unison with yours. That he felt a glimpse of your presence straight from the hallway, too, opening without you even brushing the cold of the door.”

I’m crying😭😭😭

I feel like the jk kitchen scene where he reminisces how oc made his place feel like home and now it’s just a big empty reminder of what went between them like this line broke me💔 🤦🏾💔:

“His thoughts operate in a spinning circle, and its inevitable beginning and ending is always you.”

It’s so sad seeing oc’s mental health deteriorate so fast and this horrible hole she’s put herself in where’s she’s constantly thinking abt him and the messages. I feel like jk was always a man of actions rather than words, so even though he didn’t say much he always showed her how he felt, but bc they couldn’t see each other really bc of the pap, the text messages are all she really had to hold onto and him never replying to her knowing they couldn’t see each other for a while💔💔

Jk’s birthday😣😣 can’t believe they’re gonna have to spend it apart

I wonder if their friends know more abt jk than oc in the sense of how he deals w situations bc first oc mentioned that jimin told her to find distractions instead of dwelling on the situation and Eun says she doesn’t want to give unnecessary hope, but she knows jk loves her. Do they know (or just assume) that jk may just never try to open up fully to oc, so it’s better for her to grieve, move on, rather than just hope jk might come around and explain himself? Idk if I’m expressing myself right, but it just made me wonder

“But no suffering is endless.”

Eun is such a great friend I love her 🫂

Oc really portrays how it is to live in a toxic household for most people, minus the fashion designing business mogul🙄, but you can see how much she hates being in her house and how small her parents make her feel, but at the same time she doesn’t want to completely shut them out and cut contact bc she’s aware they’ve done much for her and doesn’t want to show that’s she’s not grateful for what they have

I have a strong feeling jks painting is going to convey his feelings abt oc or portray their relationship, but I wonder what it could be🤭 they have so many sentiments, I wonder what’d he paint to encapsulate their relationship

Zara is like the older sister Oc needs in her life omg I love her❤️❤️❤️ it’s really that tough love that can get ppl to open their eyes and really see. I wonder why oc has never seriously considered moving out of her parents house, I know she’s thought abt it, but she really had the means, and maybe the issue is a lot of her money is her parents money, but like Zara said, she can find a job somewhere small and nice and she’ll make her own income and not have to worry abt depending on them anymore.

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

“To which he shook his head, clicking his tongue before he said, “Nothing. I just like how easy it is to bring you joy.”

It has literally become my favorite jk quote ever omg my heart

“Inch by inch, he pushed into you, telling you, “Take whatever you want, angel. It’s yours

NVMMMM WE HAVE A STRONG CONTENDER

Also the whole situation of how yoongi broke his leg has me screaming 😭 he’s literally always in his phone honestly

But this🥲

“You don’t know when it happens, but at some point, immersing yourself in their talks becomes easier. You keep drawing dozens of little things on his cast, and he never complains”

Reminds me of when she doodled on jks arm🥲

It being so awkward between them really broke me bc I forget there could ever be a moment where they’re not head over heels in love💔

Hoseok was so charming in his scenes idk🤭 I’m kind of falling for him:

“His eyes are nearly squinted shut, tiny dimples near each corner of his rosy lips. He has a reputation of casting light through gloomy clouds, and right now, you can’t help but agree.”

Likeeeeee he really is the sunshine of this cloudy day…week…2 weeks

“Hoseok angles his head… and then says, “Just. I’ve been thinking of you a lot these days.””

STOPPPPPPPP WHY AM I GETTING BUTTERFLIES?!!?!! IM REALLY TEAM JK&OC I SWEAR😭 maybe he didn’t even mean it like that

“Eun, a never-faltering jokester, adds her two cents, cocking an eyebrow as she intrudes, “Or you were hiding something bigger.

Yeah

Of course she knows.

You just didn’t think she’d mention it. A serious conversation will explode between you when you’re alone with her again. For now, your clenched jaw and fiery glare must suffice.”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 WHAT DID I MISS

“You keep your smile on, but you feel it weaken. Hoseok is really trying. Wants to fix you, wants to be there… as he used to wish.”

🥲🥲🥲🥲 they really do share a past, I am eager to learn more

“I want you to be happy. You can’t be that with me.”

Jk is so sweet, but so dumb omg💔

“You sob into the kiss, and he breaks apart from you just briefly.

My heart is shattered and I don’t think it can be repaired. #rip⭐️

“He tells you, “Because I don’t belong to your world. My plans for the future, my life, none of it will ever be good enough for you or for your surroundings.”

Her parents words really stuck w him. I feel like it obviously affected him more than he wanted to let on that he genuinely thinks he’s not good enough for her, i remember when he used to tell everyone she’s way cooler than how the articles present her and she’s not like her family in anyway💔

I love jk but he really should’ve left her alone when she ran out😭😭 I mean I expected him to follow her, but the kiss. I feel like it did more damage than anything and will only cause an even bigger rift between them, then was there before

I wrote half of these at 3am while delirious so if they don’t make sense my apologies, but this was such a good read

I’m so sorry for the long review, but I really love this series and felt the need to document my feelings along the way

I really loved reading and can’t wait for what’s yet to come 🤭

-⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

STAR, MY BELOVED !!!! oh my god, this huge ass review? i don't know what i did to deserve you, but... *rips out heart* please take this, okay?

you're actually one of very few who mentioned the first scene! the way they felt each other's presence? do we really need further proof that they're actual soulmates? :( same goes for the kitchen scene. don't think anyone mentioned the feeling of emptiness in it, so i'm grateful that you talked about those details 🥺

and yeah.. tbh, i wrote oc' feelings thinking about my last relationship? and how it felt fighting my way through the break up. it's almost ridiculous how fast your mental health gives up on you and how every moment spent awake just... ugh, idk, is torture, kind of? which is what our baby is going through now. you're so right, he's definitely a man of actions, and the fact that she can't see or touch him anymore makes her more miserable. bc the ultimate proximity is gone...

jk's birthday !! oh my god, i'm so scared to get to this part bc 💔 a lot of little things are gonna happen and come together to Big Sadness. and the bit about their friends knowing more than they're saying? a very very interesting theory. i'm not gonna say much, but yes, definitely keep in mind that both friend groups are deeply intertwined (taeun/yoonmin...) 🤐

i love eun, too, we don't talk about her a lot, so yesss! 🥺

ahhh star, you've absolutely understood why she's not moving out yet. yes, she hates being there, but it's hard for her to leave everything behind after kind of being trained to follow her parents' footsteps? so breaking out of it is hard, but i hope she still does. toxic households aren't very yay 🥲

jk's painting... what could it be indeed ehehehe

and zara, i love her fr, bc i absolutely think as well that oc needs some tough love and someone to speak to her without sugarcoating anything. oc has definitely considered moving out! but didn't cos of the reasons stated above... but maybe something's finally gonna happen now :')

hahaha the favourite jk quotes 😭 AND YEAH YOONGI IS HAHAHA he's always on his phone so this was a little homage to it 🤣

you remembered her doodling on his arm? star, you really do have my heart 🥺

your reactions to hobi though 🤣 also.. you didn't miss anything 👀 maybe things still need to be revealed 👀 who knows 👀

the #rip⭐️ had me SCREAMING LMFAOOO you're so funny </3

so true, so true. her parents words stuck with him, which is a big reason for *gestures* all this. a big big reason for his stubbornness. and he still knows that she's not like her family, like.. he genuinely puts her on a pedestal and thinks super highly of her (you'll see in 7.5), but he just.. ugh he needs to open up more, that's it.

it's no issue at all that you wrote this at 3am, all your thoughts were probably still more coherent than mine in this very response, so don't worry at all 🥺 i'm just so fkn thankful that you reached out at all... i honestly do not take such a long and thoughtful review for granted, so :( i can't tell you how hard this made me smile.

thank you so much, star. i appreciate tf out of you, you don't even know 🤍

#that was a long response phew. but i rlly love when you guys ramble 😭💕#long ask #notes for rid 🌹#⭐️ anon #fic: colour me in

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doerot · 3 months ago

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🎮💯🍃💘☕😊 :3 I want to know everything about ur ocs

🎮 what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

Del: books books magic reading shitty journaling books

Renée: I really think she would struggle to have a normal hobbie. For so long it was just train train training then it was oh hey we are wanted criminals I have no time to take a break. And then after she's just on high alert all the time and gets bored quickly of people try to make her sit still. She gets really into cleaning during that period of time. Idk she'll find something eventually

Matthias: I think that in his down time he would pick up fiber arts to calm down. It will take a while before he ever makes anything that looks like anything intentional, but Del and co. treasure every gift he makes for them. Him and Nonna work together in secret to make a tapestry as a wedding proposal gift shhh

💯 share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

I'm gonna do one fact for each of them since there are three of them and I'm already writing a lot lmao.

Deliah: the first time she grows her hair back out in her twenties she looks so much like her mother one morning that she gets ren to stop whats she's doing to cut her hair again that day minute

Renée: home girl does Not know how to swim. This will become relevant at the worst imaginable time.

Matthias: his scales. Glow in the dark. A teeny bit

🍃 what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school?

None of them had any real form of traditional schooling really, Deliah had private tutors that, after a certain point, just kinda let her study by herself in the library as long as she was passing all the benchmarks on time. Which she then, ofc, spent more time flipping through every magic tome she could get her hands on, than the history and economic texts she was supposed to be reading.

Ren went to the only "school" in her small town—what was essentially just an old church building with lessons and books brought back from the nearest city when the teacher was able to travel, and even then, Ren probably only went about three days out of the week—up until she turned 13 and left for the knights academy. You could then say her favorite subject was Swords, but I don't think she was ever too engaged in her studies.

Now I think Matthias would love to go back to school. I highly doubt he even remembers what it was like or what was tought, but he his a big knowledge sponge, and I like to think that after the plot he would take one off lectures in whatever town they were staying in at the time. Maybe there was an anthropology class that was particularly interesting.

💘 what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

All three of them go that life uprooted and shaken around pizzazz so none of them are holding onto much, they don't really have the travel room for it.

Del had basically her entire world view rocked, so if you asked her, she would say the ancient magic tome she carries around. Since discovering it, she believes will lead to some grand destiny that she has latched onto. But the real answer would be the fabric choker you will never see her without, not that the clothe itself is of any importance, but in hiding what's underneath.

Renée: she is much more sentimental than she would like to lead anyone to believe. With the life style that she currently lives, she in unable to really hold onto much. She definitely values the connections she has made above any sort of possessions. However, she does keep a square of a quilt her grandmother made before her passing tucked away in her breastplate to remind her of why she is doing all of this when she is freaking out from stress.

Matthias: again, a character that pretty much has nothing, barely even remembers how to be human. I think the most important thing to him rn is just trying to figure wtf is up with him. Like he doesn't have the mental space to hold onto anything too strongly with everything else going on all the time.

☕️ does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

Deliah Thinks she is a tea drinker, by that, she drinks very watered down with a lot of cream and sugar. The first time she has Real tea she recoils in disgust and quickly goes through the 5 stages of grief over being inauthentic, then drinks the rest of it anyway. Ren would prefer water over anything else when it's available, but Matt might surprisingly like black coffee me thinks.

😊 what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

I feel like this is kinda a two part question: what do these characters Think they want, and what do they Actually want?

So with that. Deliah Thinks she (side track we are at the beginning of this story babes shes not even acknowledging the "she" part yet) wants to prove her mom wrong.. but to earn her love and forgiveness for things a child should never have to beg forgiveness for. She wants to be loved and treasured and she thinks the source of that has to be from family, but she will learn that she can find it from those who will never ask her for anything in return.

Renée Thinks she wants to just cut and run, get away from all of this. She feels that everything is just way too insumountable for someone like her to take it on that she would rather not even try. But what she really wants is for all of her loved ones to stay healthy and protected, which she thinks running away can keep them safe, but she knows her friends would never just sit on the sidelines so she will do everything in her power to keep them alive. (... and an even more quiet wish, is for those that are already gone to come back to her)

This one's a little more silly but Matt thinks he wants to be uncursed like that the main thing that drives his early actions, but what he actually needs is to learn to find comfort in his body and history and his own mind.

OC ASK GAME

#OKKK thus took me a bit bc I was busy for the most of the day and I wanted to really think about these answers but ahh #thank you mackle 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏#asks #my ocs

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sexwithamanda · 2 years ago

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Always, All the time. This is it.

Episode #IDK

Hello reporting from you live in Athens, Greece.

I made it here, with the insane amount of luck I’ve had. I always have problems to think about, one of them I put my focus on is my relationship.

I think that my needs are not being met consistently. I feel myself so upset with how I tell my person exactly what I need and he considers me being rude. If I were to not be honest about it, or be upfront with it, wouldn’t that be a disservice to both of us? You tell me. I have felt myself urge to get away, to not think of this person any longer because now I am in a beautiful country and all I feel is doubt. I don’t know how else to put it, I want someone to text me daily, someone who can’t go a day without texting me. Someone who is excited to talk to me about whatever, whenever. I want to feel like I belong to them, knowing full well I am my own person. I am in love with the person I am with but for what reasons that make me sacrifice the needs I wish to have. I need to have.

Here I am, I manifest someone who:

-uses cute names with me

-makes me feel special all the time

-remembers that I matter, regardless of where I am

-buys me sentimental gifts, doesn’t have to be big, but the ones that make me cry in a good way.

-makes me feel like my feelings are valid

-is upset when they make me cry

-calls me just because

-flowers just because

-plans our dates out, and then we switch

-fights with me but makes sure to know that I am loved.

-lastly, listens to me.

I think I was able to fully express how I felt, I am gonna try to sleep.

Or I will just write more.

“This is what I signed up for.”

I saw the details in the way you said my name, when you spoke it once.

i can tell it’s hard, even for us.

It’s because our minds clash, with expectations of the other, and how such a fast race ends, with us hurting one another.

I think for quick moments, for I feel lost within my thoughts,

for you are not aligned, and I am somewhat on a cross.

an X marks the spot, for what it was, a lost cost.

you’ve given me grief, and so much loss, for my heart is heavy with too much to bare,

for now I am aware, this is what I signed up for, right here.

for all the arguments of petty things such as cute names, and diamond rings,

I know you don’t love me, as though i wish you did.

but also that is fake, i remember how you kiss.

I am trapped in a cycle of promises you forgot to give.

from missed calls, and miss communication, it was our fate to end,

this is our final destination.

you and I, are as opposite as they come,

but you and I are as one.

there’s no one I’d rather fight with, not one single soul.

because they would let it go, but truth be told, i know that you won’t.

you’ll carry on, entertaining me, with sarcasm in your voice.

you are one person that blocks out all the noise.

so yes, should we be apart? would it be better that way?

of course, but who else could say they’ve been signed up for someone who knows how to make them stay.

-A.L.

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1oddboi1 · 2 months ago

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This game has completely upended my expectations for what a Roblox game can be. Like, I used to play roblox probably ten or more years ago when it was still really small experiences, mostly just tycoons and obbys. So in my mind it's a kids game since, yknow, I was a kid when I played it. But OMG did Roblox POP TF OFF while I was away. I learned about pressure through the "Ask Sebastian" comic and was IMMEDIATELY interested by the character. I was SHOOKETH when I learned it was a roblox game. Up until that point the only other roblox thing to catch my eye was Doors but I kinda thought it was a one off thing since I didn't hear about much else. Idk where I'm even going with this, I'm just so genuinely surprised with what roblox is now. It's not just a funny little thing to log onto and be like "hehe, this is actually kind of a game, that's neat" now there are experiences that could easily be their own standalone indie game. It's not a sandbox, it's a whole game engine!

Hey! This is me coming back after writing *looks down* all that... I feel like I need to put a break somewhere so this isn't just a huge wall of text so I've decided to put that here. Under the cut is me ranting about Pressure specifically and how I think the story is fascinating. Also there's spoilers for the game the Beginner's Guide by Davey Wreden, so look out.

Anyway, Pressure. I LOVE the fact that Urbanshade is shamelessly evil. Everything that's already been listed describes it perfectly. I'm kinda split on whether or not there should be some kind of "good ending", or any kind of revolt against Urbanshade, successful or not. I personally love good endings but I also love the hopeless bad ending stuff too and fully recognize that they can be just as good if not better than good ones. I'm not sure we even need an ending for Pressure. I think it being a never ending cycle where nothing really changes is super fitting. There is not good ending, no bad ending, no ending at all. No one gets closure, no one gets a resolution, good or bad, they get nothing. To my knowledge we don't even know what Urbanshade is doing post lockdown, we don't get to know, that's not our job. Our job as the player and as expendables is to grab whatever we can and get out. All of our understanding of what Urbanshade is and what they've done comes not from them, but from the documents. Tbh I don't know if Sebastian giving us the documents when we die is actually canon or if it's just a different form of the death screen game tip thing, but I think the point remains the same.

Saying this kinda reminded me of that quote from the Beginner's Guide "If your role here is not to understand, then what is it?" and I think it applies here, even in the meta context of the line within the game. (Beginner's Guide spoilers if you haven't played/watched it, please do, it's really cool) In the Beginner's Guide this line is a BIG THING for the narrative. In fact, it's the entire presented narrative for the game, until the end that is. The whole time we're being guided through Coda's games and being told there's some narrative to be understood and some bigger meaning and purpose. But then it's revealed it was all a lie, it was never the case, no point, no lamp posts. And I think that sentiment can be applied to pressure as well. Just the idea that despite everything we're told, these little glimpses into a seemingly bigger world full of stories waiting to be told, we're not meant to see any of them. "Either way I think the point is the same, is that most of the time you don't get to know what you're missing, or even that you're missing anything, that's not your role as a player."

Welp, I hope you enjoyed me gushing about storytelling. Sorry to get all analytical about it, that's just how my brain is sometimes :)

I think part of why the world-building of Pressure are so strong is that there's no moral dark grayness like with SCP Foundation, who do shitty things in the blind, misguided attempt to maintain blissful ignorance but ultimately bring the horrors to the world through their actions. In the SCP universe, there are moments of humanity, moments where people question the system or even act against it.

Urbanshade is literally an evil corporation, nothing morally gray about it. Their goal is not "to die in the darkness so we can live in the light", it's literally "to exploit the anomalous". Exploitation is the name of their game. Everything they do, they do for themselves and whoever can line their pockets the best.

Whatever is deemed useless to them is either sold off to someone else or destroyed. It's a wretched system that will do anything to get the desired results for them, not for the world. They neglect to provide necessary information to the Expendables they send out to clean up their messes because they don't need to care. Urbanshade can just keep throwing money and bodies at the problem.

The Blacksite. The Raveyard. The Skelepede's corpse being sold like a Halloween decoration and being dumped because it's inconvenient. Painter losing its creator because of a bunch of crypto-bros (seriously you're a billion-dollar company you don't need fucking crypto). Sebastian losing his entire life and being put through the absolute wringer then tossed like trash because he wasn't what Urbanshade wanted.

I think that adds to the horror of Pressure as a narrative as well. We are not playing as heroes or even just normal people put in a bad situation. There's no "good ending" where we topple the evil organization and eat the rich and set everyone free. Even if the Expendable is one of the falsely accused, they, and by extension, the player, are just dooming someone who was once in their shoes to a horrible fate, all to fulfill their own agenda of freedom we don't even know if they deserve or not.

Maybe we deserve to be hunted and killed by the monsters. We're no better than their jailers.

#pressure roblox #roblox pressure #roblox doors #Roblox #rant #storytelling #world building #the beginners guide #davey wreden #I hope this doesn't come across as me thinking I know what I'm talking about #I just really like storytelling and stuff #Hopefully the connection between pressure and the beginners guide makes sense #I'm not sure if it's just me or not #no matter what #I'm super excited #to see where this game goes with the story #even if it goes nowhere #I think I've made it clear I'm open to that idea lmao

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just-another-mess-in-a-dress · 2 years ago

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A Simple Kindness

YOI Snz Fic #1:

I finally sat down and decided to post some of my kink fics from over the years. Starting off with a bang:

Phichit my beloved, be still my beating heart I had to write for my boy. I love him so much, this was one of the first fics I wrote for this fandom. I hope you like it.

Fetish!Yuuri and a sneezy!Phichit because I’m horny and can’t help myself. Also Yuuri being a fuckin disaster is vibe okay!?!

Phichit 🥰⛸️

Just a little fyi I caught a pretty nasty cold ☹️🤧🤒

😬 IDK if you want to kick me out of the dorm.

I get it if you do.

I’ll try to keep my germs to myself! Promise.

😷

Yuuri reads the string of texts no less than thirteen times after receiving them. Because first of all, who gave emojis the right to be so lewd? And second… how the fuck is he supposed to keep it together if Phichit has a cold?

Their dorm is basically the size of a glorified closet there’s no way Yuuri can ahem… keep things to himself… Perhaps he should be more worried about Phichit potentially spreading some kind of virus to him but really that’s not so much a concern, per say… Also, is it wrong to be completely turned on by your friend’s cold and maybe lowkey hoping you catch it yourself?

Moral quandary aside, Yuuri does manage to text back.

I’m sorry to hear that! Of course I’m not kicking you out, you must be exhausted. When does your flight get in?

Yuuri tries to turn his attention back to business ethics but his mind is well and truly in the gutter now. Besides, the professor could not be more dull as he drones on about nothing and Yuuri’s a little busy hyper fixating on the emojis Phichit used.

As he sits there nervously bobbing his leg, Yuuri’s mind wanders to Phichit’s performance at the Cup of China just a day or so ago. He had looked a bit shaky with his jumps in the free skate and Yuuri knows Phichit’s triples are solid. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well then too? Maybe that’s why he hadn’t placed well and that thought breaks Yuuri’s heart a bit.

Our flight leaves in about half an hour, I should be back around 5.

I’m so tired. Send help 😩

Grimacing at his phone again Yuuri tosses his notebook into his bag.

Do you need anything from the store? I’m going after class.

Yuuri taps his pen nervously on the edge of his desk as the professor’s conclusion slide pops up on the screen. Their midterm essay is due instead of class on Wednesday, which of course, Yuuri has already completed and sent in.

Just as he’s walking out the door, he gets a text that sends a rush of warmth between his legs.

Get lots of tissues and probably some of those disposable face masks. I’m really sneezy. 🤧 🤧 🤧

Like I haven’t really stopped sneezing since we landed in LA. 😩

People are staring at me lol.

Shit… Shit.

How is he even supposed to respond to that?! What does one say when their best friend says something that should be simple conversation but instead is giving Yuuri a new fantasy?

Is there anything else I can grab you?

It’s lame and stupid but holy shit he’s a little busy being jealous of all the people in LAX staring at Phichit…

Just some juice? You’re the best Yuuri! 💖💕💖

While Yuuri definitely disagrees with that sentiment he manages to smother his feelings (salacious and otherwise) long enough to get to the store. He gets four boxes of tissues, a pack of disposable masks, and a few small bottles of juice to put in their mini fridge. There’s a moment where he considers not grabbing disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer, but he decides that he shouldn’t actively try to catch whatever Phichit is bringing with him.

He does his best not to think about his roommate’s condition until he’s back in the dorm. It takes a minute to put away his groceries and another five to feed the hamsters before he throws himself onto his bed. Only then does he let his mind (and okay, yes, his hand too. Sue him) wander. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Phichit sick before, they’ve been rooming together for two years now and they travel internationally. Illness is common, normal for them, even.

Turns out his dick didn’t get that memo, however, and still gets all tingly at the idea of a runny nose. Such is life, he supposes.

Once he’s handled himself, he turns to his schoolwork, the monotony of his assignments. The mundane task does the trick and he feels more in control of himself now. And yeah, okay, jerking off can do that too, crazy world.

He checks his syllabuses to placate his nerves; his history professor is notoriously strict and for a second he’s convinced himself he did his whole mid-term in the wrong citation style. However, his nerves only settle for a minute or two before they bundle up again. This time because his ears catch the sound of a very congested sneeze from down the hall.

Yuuri’s mouth dries a bit as he fidgets on his bed, lord have mercy here we go.

The door opens and Yuuri’s heart instantly beats a bit faster.

Phichit looks terrible even with half his face covered. His eyes are red and watery, his complexion is nearly grey, and there’s a wet spot sitting right in the middle of his face mask.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Phichit asks, his voice is drenched in congestion and the question is punctuated with a harsh sniff.

“I’m alright. I thought you weren’t supposed to land until five.” Yuuri closes his laptop and sets it aside.

“We got- hhin early.” Phichit’s eyes squint up towards the industrial light above. His chest rises sporadically but ultimately leaves him without the satisfaction of a sneeze. “Ciao Ciao took me to the Student Health Center. On the bright side, it’s not the flu.”

“That’s good.” Yuuri manages to nod as Phichit drops his bag at the foot of his bed.

“So how… how wa-was… ahh…” An unnecessary hand raises up to cover his face, though Yuuri wonders if maybe it is necessary considering the sodden material. “He-tchuh! Tishuh!.. heh… heh eh-Psheh!”

“Bless you.” Yuuri forces himself to look away as his roommate wipes his eyes.

“Thank you… snif!” Phichit sighs as he squeezes his eyes shut. “How was your week?”

“Oh, it was fine. Business as usual. It was nice to have practices by myself.” Yuuri watches Phichit deflate into his bed. “Did the health center give you anything?”

“Yeah… but I don’t think I can take it… you know how the ISU is about medication. Don’t wanna risk it.”

“I’m sure your cold medicine isn’t banned.” Yuuri tries to reason.

“Ciao Ciao offered to call the hotline to find something I could take. I told him not to bother… it’s just a cold.” Phichit shrugs out of his coat. Yuuri swears he can see the goosebumps rise on Phichit’s skin when the coat falls to the floor.

“Yeah but… you look pretty-”

“Et-chuh!”

“Bless you… miserable.” Yuuri bites back the undignified sound he wants to make.

“I’ll be fine.” Phichit sniffs a few times, “Ugh, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Yuuri bites his lip as he shuffles off the bed. “I got your tissues and juice.”

“Tha-hank chuh!... thank you.”

Yuuri opens one of the boxes, then he decides to just bring the trash can with him as he returns to the beds.

“Here.”

He places the bin near the head of Phichit’s bed, when he turns back to his friend he has to bite down hard to keep his jaw from dropping.

Phichit has removed his soiled face mask revealing the mess beneath. His nose is a bright warning label shade of red and its glistens with thin strands of mucous. He sits just on the precipice of a testy sneeze, his eyes half closed, his nostrils flaring dramatically, and of course, the jittery gasps that all culminate in what has to be a hugely reliving release.

“Hep-Tshu! He-Tcha! God.” He groans.

“Bless you.”

Phichit snuffles into no less than six tissues to clean up what must be hours of mess. Between the flight and the drive back to the university… god why does Yuuri sort of wish he were a face mask? What the fuck even…

“You don’t have to keep blessing me… I’m gonna be sneezy all night.” Phichit tosses the wad of tissues into the bin. “Do you want me to wear a mask?”

“Uh, no, you don’t have to. You’re the sick one and you’ve flown halfway across the world today. Just try to get comfortable, okay?”

Phichit looks up at him gratefully, “Maybe you should wear one then? Trust me, you don’t want to catch this.”

Well, that’s just patently untrue… Regardless, Yuuri plucks one of the disposable masks out of the box and throws it on. At least now he can hide his blushing, right? Especially because Phichit sneezes twice more while Yuuri’s back is turned.

“The nurse says it’s just a head cold but Ciao Ciao isn’t letting me skate for at least a week.” Phichit slumps further into his bed, a thin cough escaping his lungs. “I mean, isn’t getting last place punishment enough?”

“I don’t think you’re being punished.” Yuuri says grabbing a bottle of juice from the mini fridge.

“No, it’s punishment… He’s upset because I went out there and did my free skate while I had a fever.”

Yuuri swallows thickly as he puts the drink on the nightstand. “Oh, well, in that case… I guess you’re being punished.”

“What was I supposed to do? I went all the way to China to skate so I-… huh… I skha-ate… skated… uhuh… ehh…” Phichit’s hand raises lethargically in front of his face. He takes four deep inhales clearly trying to entice the sneeze forward and failing to do so.

“Yeah but… You should remember that Celestino is in charge of us, especially when we’re abroad. He wants you to take care of yourself, that’s all.”

“You’re one to talk.” Phichit snorts, the grimace he gives afterwards indicates the action hurts at least a little bit.

“Well… it’s easy to say when I’m not the one in trouble.” Yuuri chuckles nervously.

Phichit squints again, a shaky sigh rattling his chest. “Ehhh… ahh-ha-… huh… come on… Heptshah! Hatchu! Etsha-ETCHOO!”

Yuuri has to really focus on not paying attention to his groin after that particular display. Holy shit, why does his roommate – his best friend no less – have to be the perfect picture of a head cold?

“Bless you.” Yuuri can’t help himself from commenting as Phichit mops up his nose.

“Thank you…”

“You don’t have any mid-terms coming up do you?” Yuuri asks settling back into his own bed.

“No, thank god.” Phichit looks up from blowing his nose, “Did them all before I left. If I can’t skate there’s no way I’m going to class.”

“That’s good then, you have time to rest.” Yuuri tries in vain to return to his assignment but it’s incredibly difficult considering the circumstances. Phichit really is sneezing every five to ten minutes which is starting to wear on Yuuri’s resolve. Between blowing, sniffling, and sneezing he’s basically living in the type of universe his wildest wet dreams could only imagine.

It’s a relief when Ciao Ciao calls him.

“How are you Yuuri?” He asks, perfectly unaware of how ridiculous that question sounds to him.

“I’m alright…”

“Great, can you do me a favor? I got Phichit some medication for his cold can you come get it from my office?”

“Sure thing coach, I’ll be there in a bit.” Yuuri nearly runs out of the room. Part of him is a bit embarrassed to do so. The last thing he wants is Phichit thinking he finds his cold disgusting, but damnit he has a great excuse now to get his shit together. He throws his mask away the second he sees a trash bin and instantly takes a deep breath. The world is certainly testing his resolve today.

The walk to Celestino’s office is blissfully calm and the cool evening air does the trick. By the time he arrives, Yuuri feels like himself again and he’s not being manhandled by his dick, thank god. Ciao Ciao corrals him into a conversation about the Grand Prix Final coming up in December before handing off the medication.

Yuuri strolls back to the dorms at a leisurely pace, his head swirling with an ocean of thoughts. Between the Final, schoolwork, and the intrusive thoughts about Phichit’s cold; his brain is overrun with activity.

When he pushes into their room he finds the lights are still on but Phichit is dead to the world. Still, he tries to rouse his friend from his slumber.

“Phichit? Celestino got you some medicine.” Yuuri says softly putting a hand on his shoulder to shake him. There’s a moment where Yuuri can’t help himself. He finds his hand creeping up to Phichit’s forehead to check for temperature. He’s warm but not to such a degree that Yuuri is concerned.

Phichit’s eyes crack open just the slightest bit.

“Hey, Ciao Ciao got you-”

“Het-chu!” Phichit’s eyes shut as he jolts forward with the sneeze.

Yuuri pulls his hand back and closes his gaping mouth. Holy shit, holy shit, Phichit just sneezed on him. Any resolve he might have gained on his little walk around campus instantly leaves his body as he takes a step back.

Phichit, however, hasn’t seemed to notice at all as he rears back for another sneeze.

Yuuri pushes the tissue box a fraction closer to his friend. Phichit buries his face into the offered tissues and sneezes two more times before he seems to be aware of the world around him.

“Ugh… Hey, how… how long have you been gone?” Phichit asks pulling another tissue out of the box to blow his nose.

“About an hour. Ciao Ciao got you some ISU approved medicine.” Yuuri holds out the box to him, still reeling from what has just happened. His legs feel weak and he’s incredibly warm inside.

“And you… Aw, Yuuri that’s so nice of you to go get it for me. Thank you.”

“It was no trouble.” Yuuri tries to hide the furious blush overtaking his features.

“I’d hug you but I don’t think either of us want that.” Phichit sniffs to prove the point.

Yuuri turns back to his bed while Phichit downs a dose. When Yuuri turns around he sees the familiar sight of Phichit scrolling through his phone.

“You don’t want to get back to sleep?”

“I’m making sure Chris yelled at Viktor for me.” Phichit wipes his nose with the heel of his hand.

Yuuri sputters out a few incomprehensible sounds before eventually settling on a: “Huh!?”

“Oh, yeah. Viktor was patient zero.” Phichit rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure that he either doesn’t know how to cover his mouth or he was conspiring against us. The man was a walking biohazard during our practice days.”

It’s official, Yuuri no longer exists. Not on this Earth and maybe not even the next. Phichit has Viktor King-of-the-Ice Nikiforov’s cold. Phichit got to witness Viktor having the head cold from hell for days, and he apparently never covered his mouth. And now Yuuri has been infected. With Viktor’s cold. Viktor’s sneezy drippy cold. What a world.

The next few days are going to be quite the adventure. And Yuuri has some internet sleuthing to do to see if anyone recorded the Cup of China practice…

#yoi #snzblr #snz kink #snz fic #fetish!yuuri #sneezy!Phichit #my writing #snz fan fic #cold #mess #cw mess #cw contagion

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silkylious · 4 years ago

Text

Safe (Kaminari Denki x Reader)

Warnings: slight angst/insecurities, comfort, fluff Pairing: kaminari denki x reader Prompt: #58 “You make me feel safe”

A/N: idk why but i hc that kaminari is actually very insecure but jokes around and shit as a coping mechanism. can you sense the self projection here. hope you enjoy this, it was very fun to write!

You sprung forward, eyes wide awake with alarm. Your mind struggled to catch up with your body; phantom sensations still lingering on your skin, static scenes of vibrant blue flames scorched into your brain as your heavy breaths died down into a slightly more regulated rhythm. This was the fifth time this week. It’s been two full months since the training camp, two full months since you’ve moved into the dorms and you still weren’t over it yet. The nightmares just wouldn’t stop.

You plopped back down on the mattress, exasperated and thoroughly annoyed at having your precious slumber cut short. Again. Honestly, for such a prestigious school, U.A. has probably the worst counseling team you’ve ever seen– or haven’t seen, because despite several of your classmates showing painfully obvious signs of trauma, the school staff has barely stepped in. You huffed at the administration’s incompetence, turning on your side to glare at nothing in particular. A ping interrupted your train of thought, drawing your attention to the device laying on your nightstand. You snatched your phone, unlocking it and immediately squinting at the brightness before checking the time. Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who.

Pika pika⚡: [image] [image] [image]

some maymays for when you wake up 😌😌

You: they’re called memes ffs

Pika pika⚡: you’re awake??👀

You: no.

The message was left on seen, though the interface of the messaging up was replaced by that of an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile stretched your tired features at the picture of you and Kaminari grinning at the camera. You accepted the call.

“Why are you up?” His voice came through mildly distorted but still as loud as ever, too loud for three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t sleep,” Your answer was slightly muffled by a yawn, betraying just how exhausted you were. The silence that proceeded was deafening, neither of you uttering a word, but you could faintly hear his even breathing. It was oddly calming. You sigh, lids blinking to fight off your drowsiness.

“…You’re still having nightmares?” Words tinged with worry, his voice was much quieter now, gentler. If anything, Kaminari was a great friend. He’d proven that to you time and time again. He was the only one that could tell when you were drowning in hushed misery, seeing through your well-constructed front like it was second nature to him. For someone so astoundingly moronic, he was extremely socially intelligent, and even observant when he wanted to be. And for the umptieth time, he’s showing you just how easily he could pick up on the small traces of discomfort in your voice, the silent plea left unspoken from your lips.

“Yeah…” The reply didn’t come out as resolute as you’d wished it would have been. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how hard you willed yourself to level your tone in hopes of fending off his concerns, you knew it would all crumble at some point. Go figure your strong façade would fall apart in front of him. It’s always been him. For some reason unknown to you (yet), confiding in him just felt right, secure.

More silence ensued.

Denki was a natural at detecting people’s emotions, but that’s as far as his expertise would go. Sure, he knew how to encourage others, pushing them past their insecurities was as easy as breathing to him. With bright, golden hues and an obnoxiously dorky grin, all he had to do was utter a few optimistic words and that would get the job done. But comfort? Vulnerability? That was so far beyond the shallow waters he’d grown accustomed to. Sentimentalities weren’t his thing, he simply didn’t posses the wisdom and eloquence needed to deal with such situations. His immediate reaction would be to crack a joke, fruitless attempts at lightening the mood but he knew there was a time and place for jests, and this wasn’t one of them. Awkwardness and half-hearted jabs were his immediate reaction… because that’s how he dealt with his own problems too.

“Hey… can I come over? We can play animal crossing or something,” You sure as shit wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in this state. You needed a distraction. A friend.

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you even care if we got caught?”

A light chuckle. “No,”

“Exactly. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead, he stared at the blank screen of his phone before flopping onto his back. Why you’d be so open with him of all people when he saw just how uneasy around his other classmates, he didn’t know. The list of people he thought were more deserving of your trust was almost unending, and he wasn’t even close to the top of it. One thought brought forward another, each one getting progressively more deprecative, and the sloppily sewn patch over his self-doubt started to tear, ripped off its poorly embedded stitches. He was confident in himself, until he joined class 1-A that is. He just felt… there compared to his peers. His body was nothing to laugh at, but his build was still considerably lean compared to the people he was around. The fact that such a talented, hardworking person had taken interest in him was frankly baffling. He wasn’t as flashy as Todoroki, or as powerful as Bakugo, or as brainy as Midoriya. He was just him. Lackluster, average him. It only added insult to injury when he’d witnessed how they looked at you. They pined for you, and he couldn’t blame them. He craved you too. But god, the nagging thought that you were wasting your time hanging around someone like him, that he was stealing you away from people who were (in his opinion) glaringly more worthy of cherishing you than him, it just wouldn’t go away. You had so many stronger, smarter, better options out there that he couldn’t help but be reminded of how lacking– inadequate he was compared to seemingly everyone else. And yet you chose to get close to him. In a superhuman class full to the brim with prodigies and workaholics, you picked him. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

He was fished into reality and away from his sea of self-doubt when he heard three consecutive knocks on his door. Just how long had he laid there, wallowing?

The door creaked open and you were greeted with the glorious sight of Kaminari in a Pikachu onesie, a ruffled (adorable) tuft of electric, blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. You snorted.

“Nice pj’s,”

Denki blinked, looking down only to realize that he hadn’t changed out of his onesie because of his overthinking session. An embarrassed chuckle escaped him as he scratched at the side of his cheek, a lopsided smile and a cherry tint creeping up his complexion.

“What can I say, I always have to be on brand.”

You loved that about him. He seemed so laid-back, uncaring, willing to roll with whatever punches were thrown at him, playing off jocular comments and rude insults alike with practiced ease. Giggling past him, you situated on his bed, ready to forget about your nightmares and just have fun with your friend. And if Denki was a genius at anything, it was having fun.

Hours flew by at the pace of minutes, it was now six in the morning, the sun had begun to show its yellow glow and you’d spent the entirety of dawn kicking Kaminari’s butt at Mario kart, sharing laughs and fleeting touches. He liked this, you liked this. Despite knowing that he wasn’t by any means the best suitor for you, he couldn’t halt the need to monopolize you. How could he, when your very presence (unbeknownst to you) shoved his insecurities unceremoniously into the backseat in favor of enjoying the moment with you? He hadn’t a clue how you did it, but you always managed to shoo away his doubts just by being there, and he selfishly couldn’t (and wouldn’t) let go of that. You immersed him in riveting ventures of the now, miles and acres away from his overbearing thoughts. All without even trying, without even knowing it.

It was the weekend (thank fuck) and sleeping in sounded like heaven on earth right now. If it weren’t for your nightmares. The fear of recounting those horrid memories in horrific detail again barred your eyes from sleep, regardless of how spent you were. Apparently, Denki’s spidey-friendship senses kicked in again, because he immediately noticed the apprehension on your face, the stiffness in your movements as you were preparing to leave. He knew exactly what was up with you, and he couldn’t let you leave like that, it would eat him up for days. He grabbed your wrist as you turned for the door.

“Do you wanna stay?”

Maybe it was your exhausted mind finally turning into mush, or maybe it was the softness in his voice, the docile concern in his eyes that made you agree on staying. Your compliance surprised you both, honestly. You were both very aware that you wouldn’t have accepted the offer had it been anyone else. But in retrospect it seemed rational. After all, throughout the whole night, not once did you think back to the horrors that would visit you in your sleep, not once did you feel the crippling anxiety clawing at the frayed edges of your psyche. Instead you felt secure, sound. Safe. And you came to an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of sleep that scared you, maybe it was the impending loneliness, isolation and uncertainty that you’d often experience without him.

“Yes,”

You laid there, facing each other, a considerable distance between you. No words exchanged, yet you could tell there was a lot on his mind. He decided to voice it all in one question. He knew you were smart enough to catch the underlying self-doubt in his vaguely worded inquiry. Whether you pointed it out or not was entirely up to you, however.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

The articulation caught you off guard, you’d never seen him so… unsure before. Your mind raced with the different possible implications behind his wording, though you decided to quell them all with one single sentence. You smiled, soft and lazy, moving closer to seek out some of his warmth.

“You make me feel safe, Denki.”

And he really did. Even though you came to the revelation mere minutes ago, you accepted it swimmingly, it felt right to do so. It startled you how ready you were to embrace the newfound feelings, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kaminari was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t expected that response from you and he honestly still couldn’t rationalize it completely either. But for now, the budding feeling in his heart trumped over his ever-present uncertainty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki #denki kaminari imagine #bnha kaminari #self indulgent writing yayayya #god the projection is heavyy in this one

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c-aureus · 3 years ago

Text

Ok, here’s a post I’ve been waiting to make: Why I’m worried about BotW2. Wall of text incoming. Now, I’m gonna preface this with a few things. Firstly, I waited to post this so that all of the immediate reactionary hype would die down a bit, and also so that I could contemplate on my thoughts for a while, before posting them. Secondly, this is not at all a criticism of the setting, or gameplay, both of which look incredible. However, for me at least, none of that was ever in doubt. Thirdly, I will freely admit that all of the forthcoming arguments are speculation. We do not yet know much of anything about the direction of the sequel, and I fully understand and admit that there is every chance that I could be completely wrong. In fact, I’d very much like for that to be the case. Alas, I am English, and cynicism is literally encoded into my DNA, so here’s a few things that I think are likely to happen, and why I’m so worried about them. My first point is kind of a big one, but honestly, it kinda sums my entire argument up: I’m worried that BotW2 is going to do everything it can to basically be a ‘soft reset’, regressing to the norm of BotW. What do I mean by this? Well. From a gameplay perspective, it will almost certainly use the time honoured Zelda tradition of resetting Link to 3 hearts and no powers at the beginning. Needless to say, I really do not want them to do this. From a story perspective, Link’s entire character arc in BotW was regaining the power he lost due to the Shrine of Resurrection. From a narrative perspective, I really do not want to see all of his growth and progress wiped away because ‘New Game lol’. Furthermore, on the topic of the Champions’ abilities... I honestly don’t think that any of them would just abandon him, however this argument goes 10x more for Mipha specifically. Mipha’s promise to Link in BotW was to ALWAYS heal him, and it is one of the most hauntingly beautiful things about her tragedy that she gets to fulfill her promise to him in death. Therefore, I simply cannot reconcile Mipha leaving Link (not sticking around to heal him) with her character. Because, BotW shows that her love and her devotion to Link are selfless, and absloute. She would NEVER renege on such a promise, even though Ganon was ‘defeated’. To do so is antithecal to her entire character. There’s also the matter of Link’s equipment. In a similar vein, I’d argue that much of Link’s equipment (including the Champions’ weapons and Zora Armour) hold enormous sentimental value to him, and if he is stripped of them for no good reason, then I will also be upset. Also, furthermore, BotW2 seems to be very strongly implying that Ganon was not ‘defeated’, which means that the Champions’ spirits cannot even be ‘at rest’, since surely their duty is not complete? Not that I think this should ever factor into Mipha’s personal motivation to continue healing Link, but whatever. What I fear is that there will be no mention nor presence of the Champions’ abilities, which... would really suck. Honestly, I’d even go so far as to say that it absolutely ruins Mipha’s character. Even if we’re being fooled and it’s not actually Ganon who is causing trouble (it does look pretty Malice-y, though...), I honestly, truly believe that they would not simply abandon Link. However, if it IS Ganon(dorf), then there is no excuse nor reason for their absence. This comes into my second point. I’m strongly suspecting that the plot of BotW2 is trying its absolute hardest to simply ‘reset the status quo’ that existed in BotW. By this, I mean that the trailers have already shown Ganon and implied him to be the villain, and Link and Zelda have been separated, presumably with Link having to rescue her. Again.

(On a side note, I do not believe that anyone truly believes that they’ve actually killed Zelda off, do they? I mean, come on. Her plot armour is thicker than the belt of a WW2 era dreadnought battleship. Which is a shame, tbh, becasuse it really prevents any kind of tension in the story, or interesting twists.) (On another side note, idk if I’ve actually seen anyone elaborate on how... depressing it is to have Ganon as the main villain AGAIN. The entirety of BotW was dedicated to defeating him, and many characters literally gave their lives to fight him, and now, after having been successful and defeated him, ‘lol he’s back again, lol.’ *Shrug*. I guess that it feels kinda cheap to me, along the lines of a last minute ‘oh wait, you didn’t REALLY beat him’, because they want to pad the game out more. Especially if there is no real consideration of this point from Link and Zelda’s pov: Namely, just how depressing it would be to lose everything to Ganon, finally defeat him, only to have him immediately return. At this point, I’d be lamenting on the unfairness that Ganon gets literally infinite chances to try again, but not all of his victims, which could be a really interesting psychological point of exploration, but I fear that the sequel will not make any effort to mention it. Hence my low-effort meme on the matter. ) So, basically, instead of giving us a new plot, in a new direction, with the consequences and events of the prequel fresh in mind and influencing character behaviour, we’re resetting the situation to how things were in BotW. Which... I’m extremely un-keen on. Since, it’s going to probably feel like a ‘we’ve already done this before’ kind of thing. A staleness, if you will. Again, I’d love to be proven wrong. However, what I suspect and fear is that we’re going to get this kind of situation, which I would really hate. The thing that I have been waiting for with the highest of anticipation was seeing how Link and Zelda would react to post-Calamity Hyrule, and how their failures and losses would impact them going forwards. I’m not going to give the Resurrection/Time Travel speech again, but I will mention it, since it is an absolutely valid goal, given the ‘rules’ by which the Zelda universe operates, and a valid response to the grief of losing characters that BotW/AoC establishes that they love. Again, I fear that the sequel will make no reference to this, which also feels like a massive disservice to the characters of the Champions. Also, it would be really unique, and not just the standard ‘defeat the Big Bad Evil Ganon’ that is every Zelda game. Ok, I really am done on that point here. It’s a topic for another rant, lol. TL;DR: I’m very, very worried that BotW2 will forgo narrative progression to simply reset the situation to how it was before, without any care for how that impacts the narrative. I mean, we saw how bad this ended up for the Star Wars sequels, so I think I have a right to be concerned... We know that this game grew out of being DLC for BotW. What I fear is that it will really end up looking like BotW DLC, rather than a sequel, from a narrative perspective. If anyone has any opinions or thoughts to add, then I’d love to hear them.

#long post #botw #botw2 #botw 2 #zelda #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #link #loz link #botw zelda #ganon #mipha

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sokkagatekeeper · 3 years ago

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how do u feel abt sapphic katara? idk i. love her & find it somewhat annoying when ppl make her the token straight in analysis or fics or whatever

anyway i hope ur having a great morning. want u to know that i’m going absolutely feral over the sokka&katara posts u have because hoooly shit it’s finally in words!! <33

ah shit. well! we all know sexism exists in the show, not only in the northern water tribe but in the earth kingdom and fire nation as well. toph’s, zuko’s, azula’s (and mai’s and ty lee’s) arcs depend on this aspect of their world. i believe in the intersectional theory, which is that there cannot be misogyny without homophobia without transphobia (without racism, but that’s not relevant right now). it’s all connected and rooted in the same bullshit that is gender norms. now that we’ve established this;

from making a textual analysis of the show, taking into account how queer characters read such as sokka, azula, toph, zuko, mai, etc. the way i interpret katara is essentially... a straight girl. by this i mean; she doesn’t have a conflicted or even complex relationship with her own gender, rather everybody else’s (toph and sokka coming to mind, or even pakku’s perception of katara because of her gender) which is a natural development of growing up in a patriarchal society and as a marginalized person (in this case a woman). sokka has these beliefs as well, only that after kyoshi island much of his flawed perception of gender and its norms serves only to diminish his own self-worth rather than his perception of other people and the world. katara is not a bigoted person, but she hasn’t reflected on the concepts of gender and sexuality the same way zuko and toph clearly have, or has an intricate web in her mind about gender and sexuality the way azula and sokka do. additionally to this, we never see katara being attracted to a girl on screen — not the way azula and mai are attracted to ty lee or the way sokka is attracted to the boulder (do not argue with me about this i swear to god). katara is exclusively attracted to boys on screen, and even if she was bisexual i have like, no evidence of this.

now on fandom reception. let me begin with making it clear, that i don’t personally believe headcanoning katara as sapphic or trans is evil or whatever as much as i simply think it’s. incorrect? whatever. much like with trans zuko – zuko is a solid cis gay thanks – i think they’re wrong but there’s nothing inherently uhhh messed up about it (especially if the sapphic katara headcanon comes from sapphic brown girls and girl-adjacents!!!) unless they actively make it messed up. other than that it’s just an incorrect reading of the text, so i don’t really mind it, and if i do make fun of the headcanon/interpretation i do it mostly in private.

on the other hand, it seems to me that there is a certain uh, obsession, with making all the characters queer. i understand that there’s a lack of proper representation and we can always hold onto the queer subtext and readings of a text – queer readings have always existed, and for a reason. but i think with katara specifically there’s that sentiment that if (someone believes that) katara is not some flavour of queer then (that person therefore believes that) she’s not worth it as a character or a person and that’s just not true!! if katara were straight and cis, she would still be a brave, kind, compassionate, talented, brilliant, prodigal brown girl who is capable of love and worthy of appreciation. if someone needs katara to be flawless and queer to like her then that’s a bigger problem than me reading katara as straight.

i’ve said this before but an analysis and a headcanon are two separate different things. mostly i tolerate the trans katara headcanon more than the sapphic katara headcanon – or the trans zuko headcanon :| – since i believe it’s canonically more plausible than the alternative (if only because i believe the swt is the most uhh open-minded(? community since the air nomads are gone, and that’s like about it). i understand other people’s approach to fandom is solely or mostly through headcanons but that’s not my personal approach to it. i understand katara as cishet, and i love her very very much not despite it but as a part of the whole that is her entire character.

#asks #UGH IM GONNA GET FUCKIN CANCELLED . AND FOR WHAT #thwy hated nour bc they told them the truth.jpg #princeicarus #n #katara #analysis #thank you for the compliment also!!!! <333 #i was def nicer than i could've been tho..... sigh when will my cowardice end

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

Text

folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)

Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭

Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕

Word count: 5.5k 🙈

Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing

Masterlist

Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.

There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.

Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.

Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.

You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.

And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.

While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.

Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.

They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.

Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.

Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.

The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.

“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.

Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.

So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”

Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.

A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.

Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”

Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.

It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”

“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.

Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.

“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.

The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.

Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.

And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.

Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.

Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.

Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.

“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”

“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.

Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.

“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.

At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.

His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.

“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.

“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.

“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.

“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”

The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.

With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”

As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.

When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.

“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”

Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.

His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.

“It would be us wouldn’t it.”

After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.

Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.

“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.

Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.

“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”

You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.

Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.

“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.

Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”

He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“

Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.

“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.

Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.

You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.

A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.

“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.

“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.

He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”

“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.

Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”

“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.

“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.

“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.

“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.

Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.

Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.

With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”

You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.

You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.

“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”

“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.

It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.

“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.

You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.

“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.

“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”

“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.

“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”

“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”

You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”

Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.

“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.

Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.

You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.

When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.

Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.

Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.

Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”

Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”

“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”

Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”

Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.

Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.

Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.

He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.

Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.

“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.

“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.

You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”

“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“

“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.

His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.

Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.

Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.

“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.

Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”

After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.

You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.

A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.

The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.

“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.

“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.

Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #folklore i.l #derek hale x reader

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whump-town · 4 years ago

Text

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Four: How to Disappear Completely

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word count: 2,670 (not very long but I’m getting back into the swing)

Author’s Note: I know it’s been like freaking two months but this felt nice and I remembered how much I actually enjoy this fic. You can find the first chapter here!

Warning: the subject of this fic is cancer and it’s treatment, cursing, maybe out of character (idk, man. hotch is weird) bonus: I’m 19 and a humanities major so obviously I don’t know anything about medicine so I’m doing my best out here

I'm not here I'm not here This isn't happening I'm not here I'm not here

She’s not allowed to go with him to treatments-- radiation treatments, he never said anything about chemo. You’d think she was the ex-lawyer but really she’s just mastered the art of annoying him. “That’s a straight flush, eat it!” She lays the cards out for him to see, grinning as his face falls and he realizes that he’s lost to her, again. “We totally should have played strip-poker.”

He rubs a hand over his face, digging his fingers into his eye socket. “That’s the last thing I need,” he mumbles, leaning back against his chair. He’s exhausted and freezing his ass off despite the long-sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing under his flannel and the blanket Emily’s tucked around him. There’s no point in bringing it up, no point in talking about it. No one can do anything about it. He’s just cold and he can handle the clump of hair that fell in the sink this morning and the fact that all foods, even foods that he’s considered safe for decades, betray his body. This being cold all the time thing though? It’s pissing him off and it makes him feel even more helpless because he can’t control his emotions.

Nevermind, most of his control over everything is gone. He’s stuck in this chair until the toxic whatever they have hanging above his head enters his body. The whole bag and a two-hour, maybe longer, wait. For comfort, he’s got an endless supply of blankets, all as thick as paper, and a popsicle. He likes popsicles but he’s certain he’ll throw up anything he eats right now. So he sticks to lightly sipping his water. At least he gets to control the water most of the time. Occasionally they even get to veto his decisions there.

“I’ll give you a break,” she offers. She can see he’s having a hard time. He knows he’s lucky to have her as his shadow but that doesn’t do much for the temper he’s struggling to control. “I’m going to go call JJ,” she knocks her hand against his knee and he hums his understanding. He’s moved his body up, sitting up enough to tilt to the left, his head in his palm, and his fingers moved to block her view of a pained grimace. Trying and failing to keep her distracted with his silence.

Knowing that crouching down beside him would create far more attention to his discomfort that is such grave importance to him to hide, she just lowers her voice and quietly asks, “do you want me to get some more water?” He shakes his head, just rocking his forehead into his palm. His attention lost to a sea of pain. “Okay,” she mumbles, feeling utterly helpless. A feeling she’s becoming quite familiar with.

The worst part is knowing there’s nothing she can do physically for him but there are some people that never fail to draw a smile to his face. So she texts Spencer and Penelope, hoping Reid will numb Hotch out with never-ending conversation and Garcia will lighten his sludge. She hesitates to ask Jessica to bring Jack over. After the night they watched the Chronicles of Narnia he’s been a little outwardly disruptive. Acting out and it’s to be expected, this isn’t easy for anyone and it’s impossible for a child who has already lost his mother. But it will be good for Hotch and Jack so she risks it and Jessica seems to agree.

“You’re back early.” What she does not account for is Derek Morgan beating them back. They walk in and hear a racket, and though their training should have them reaching for guns not strapped to their hips, they both just glare at the direction in which it’s coming from. Derek stands up, eyeing them both over, and motioning to something out of their sight. “Was just fixing the sink.” He’s covered in dirt and sweat, it’s evident he was fixing something though the state of his shirt looks more like he breaking something.

Emily is opening her mouth to inquire but Hotch beats her to it. His tone and his mood are not in a good place and if she’d known Morgan was here ahead of time she would have warned him. Morgan has no warning when Hotch’s already firmly placed scowl turns even crueler and he grumbles, “the sink wasn’t broken.”

She’s stuck standing between them, Hotch walking away and Morgan watching his back and looking hopelessly at her to explain what just happened. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to follow Hotch or if she’s better here explaining his behavior. It’s just like old times, she thinks bitterly. To Foyet and his pain and she can’t say she’s surprised, he really held out. She can’t blame him for being in a bad mood, he’s in pain. It’s his cancer, he’s allowed to be pissed about it.

“He okay?”

She is surprised to find that Morgan isn’t angry. That he looks nearly sad standing there, torn between going after him and being reassured by her. “He’s…” she won’t tell him about the drive back. Hotch silent but in so much pain he’d been restless, incapable of sitting still in the car. Or this morning how he’d needed her help just putting on a shirt. The hair she’s noticed falling out but he’s not commenting on it so she certainly won’t breathe a word. That they’re up all night, the sound of Hotch’s pacing making her too worried to rest or barreling through the house to find him curled around the toilet looking miserable. That he’s losing weight rapidly and she doesn’t struggle to help him up anymore-- but she tells herself it’s because she’s getting stronger because she has to.

“He’s Hotch,” she reasons, foolishly. “Of course, he’s okay.”

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

Garcia would lay her own life down in a heartbeat to protect the team if they’d let her. She owes them all so much for the quality that they have given her life over the past few years. They have built a family around her, from the ground up, and accepted her through all her flaws and misadventures. No one as much as her suit-clad, knight in shining armor boss. Hotch has been there for her since before there was even really a team. When no one else would, he gave her so much more than a chance-- he believed in her. When no one else, when no one had even tried since her parent’s death. Even when time and time again she made mistakes, pushed rules, and on his last nerve. He never tore her down.

He commends her strangeness, even if she suspects he doesn’t fully understand it. Smiles good-naturedly when she brings him holiday-themed ties so they can match and allows her silly days out for conventions beyond his own taste. He’s never grasped a full understanding of her but he’s never given up trying. He commends her abilities to do this job and also reminds her how proud he is of her, to have her on his team, and to call her a friend. So, yeah, if Hotch needs a little pick-me-up, she’s his man.

“Are you two fucking?”

Garcia freezes. The key Hotch gave her half-way in its retreat from the lock and the door only slightly opened. She’s technically coming in unannounced but Hotch had given her this key under the same pretenses as the one that gave her access to his and Haley’s house-- in case she needs him. The situations are flipped now, he needs her, but the sentiment is still the same. She’d prepared for the Hotch’s thousand-word frown upon entrance just not the verbal assault of “are you two fucking”.

She hesitantly makes her way into the room, peeking around the corner of the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Emily and Morgan are standing there, both looking equally disgusted and annoyed. She watches Emily fluster, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “What?” she barks out in pure surprise. “He’s-- NO!”

Morgan reciprocates his own franticness, waving at Emily’s clothes, “you’re-- you’re... matching!” He’s grabbing at straws for the most part. His own anxieties and fears coming into play to create this monster of a beast he can’t stop thinking about. To distract himself from the panicked thoughts he has about watching his friend die he’s conjured a reality in which it makes sense that Emily and Hotch would be boning. Really, it’s only bothering him because he has no idea what he would do if the two of them were… doing something. It’s just-- just disgusting. Hotch is Hotch, he doesn’t… do that.

Emily rolls her eyes, “Derek, I see him every day. I live with him.” She makes an exasperated throwing motion with her hands, tossing them upwards. “It’s going to happen occasionally, alright? We own similar articles of clothing.” She motions down to her clothes, “we’re ‘matching’ because we look a lot alike and he knows green is his color just like I know it’s mine!”

Of course, that’s what she says now but this morning when she was working the tiny ass buttons of his shirt together she’d given him endless shit about managing to pick out the one shirt the two of them both own. He couldn’t change-- that day’s appointments needed full access to his chest and the easiest way to do that is to wear easily opened and shut clothing. She could change but simply refused-- it was far more entertaining to tell him they looked like those preschoolers whose parents dressed them to match.

He wasn’t amused.

“Besides,” she adds just to a rise out of him, “he’s not supposed to be doing anything strenuous until the rash on his chest clears back up.” She tucks a strand behind her ear, nonchalant. “Even then I would have to be on top.” She smiles as he sputters, satisfied with her own work.

Morgan frowns, “No!” He momentarily covers his ears, shaking his head. “Why do you even-- How do you know that?”

Emily shrugs, “Oh… well, his doctor thought we were… you know.”

Garcia isn’t sure where her allegiance should be. If Hotch and Emily are… she’d prefer not to know the details. Well, she’s interested because it’s Emily but it’s also Hotch. She makes a face, the thought… it-- Hotch needs to lighten up. He needs someone back in his life that can bring some fun but Emily is, well she’s Emily! It f-

“Is she done tormenting Morgan, yet?”

Garcia reels around, caught off guard by a sudden deep but unimpressed voice behind her. When she turns, she finds Hotch. He’s dressed down, out of the attire Morgan and Emily had been talking about. Now, in a simple Hanes t-shirt and black sweatpants. Comfortable-- she likes the way he looks. It may not be his usual attire but it makes him look more… dad-like. More himself.

Garcia looks back over her shoulder and finds herself grinning. Her boss may seem like a boring, hardass but he can have his fun too. No doubt, he either gave Emily the idea to go torment Morgan (never direct but planted the seedling idea) or, at the very least, gave her permission. “I don’t think so,” she answers honestly. “She’s not going to let it go if she knows it bothers him that much.” Which is completely true.

Hotch smiles, softly. A dimple making a guest appearance as he shakes his head. Only Emily Prentiss. He looks Garcia down, lifting a brow at the sight of all the things in her arms. “Can I help you with that?” he offers, motioning to the filled Tupperware clutched to her chest so that they don’t topple over.

She remembers, suddenly, the armful of goodies she has. “Oh yes, sir!” She lets him take a few off the top, telling him what they are as he acquires them. “Those are macadamia nut cookies! This really nice woman--” she follows him as he takes the containers and directs her to the kitchen. “She moved in across the hall from me. She loves to bake and so she’s been giving me all these little recipes.”

He moves right past Emily and Derek, smiling to himself at the panicked raise in Derek’s tone as they catch sight of one another. He directs his attention back to Garcia, making sure she knows he’s listening. Though he doubts his own abilities to dig into the delicacies Garcia has brought, he knows that Jack and Emily will rip them to shreds. Which is the honorable way Garcia’s cooking should go, straight into very gracious mouths.

“I really hadn’t been able to test them out,” she continues. “So, I thought why not try them all right now and bring them to you!” She smiles cheerfully up at him, their height difference more apparent when he looks down realizes she’s not wearing her signature heels. She’s wearing pink converse, perfectly complimenting her pink sweater and pink glasses and jewelry. He thinks she looks positively amazing but knows any compliments will have him smothered in kisses and, well, he’s already been accused of sleeping with one coworker...

Mind still wandering off on the subject of his height and when the last time he saw Garcia in shoes other than heels, he settles a soft smile on her. She keeps talking, showing him each container's contents. It’s the exhaustion that leads him down the path beaten path of dissociation, his mind simply slipping out from beneath him. Someplace warm and fuzzy where his body doesn’t ache.

“Aaron--” He blinks, startling at the sudden touch to his shoulder. He looks down to find Emily and an anxious-looking Garcia. He’s sure Emily and Derek’s conversation about their relationship is now going to seem more damning as her hand slips into his. She squeezes his fingers, “you okay?” Her eyes flick between his, searching for an answer that’s going to be far more honest than the one he produces on his own.

He clears his throat, forcing himself not to blush. “Yeah,” he croaks. “I don’t… I don’t know what that was.” He bashfully averts his eyes to the kitchen floor, very aware of their attention on him now. Too much attention. It’s impossible to hide the way he shivers, the paling, near purpling of his arms. He knows it’s inevitable that they’ll notice but… he’d like to think himself some mastermind. Impervious to the tests of cancer and his treatments. That they don’t affect him. He can hide the central line under layers of clothes. Wear hats to hide the hair. Fake a smile and force his way through the day.

But he’s failing miserably. They see it. The radiation rash now sitting at the base of his neck, red and angry. Peaking out through his shirts. The bulge of the central line under his normal shirts. The nose bleeds that never stops, he’s scarred Reid and Morgan for life with those. The tinnitus that’s recently come back with a vengeance. He’s affected, good and proper, and he hates it. Hates that he has to be so blatantly mortal in front of everyone. Never gets a say in if today is good or bad. If he’ll be too weak to get out of bed or too sick to eat. He hates it.

Garcia is the first person to properly break the tension. She playfully knocks Hotch in the shoulder, more of a tap than anything. It’s careful and his throat tightens with the realization of how weak he must look to make Garcia afraid she could hurt him with a simple tap. “It’s all good, sir.” She settles a small smile on him, “but you can make it up to me by eating?”

Eating. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly around the sick twist of his stomach. “Okay,” he answers softly, forcing a smile to match hers when she beams. Thinking she’s won against his unruly stomach.

Emily glances at him but ignores it.

He just wants to be normal again.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater (Just lmk if you don’t want to be tagged anymore)

#tw cancer #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #derek morgan

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