#if anyone wants me to change it i gotchu shoot me an ask
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Your writings are so great and capturés the captures so well!! I have a request based off from your previous req fandic of Noir x criminal!reader. (I LOVE THAT SO MUCH AA) can you write where the crimimal!reader gets badly injured and Noir takes cares of them, gets mad and scold them for being so reckless then starts to beg them to quit the criminal life cus he wants them to be safe? It can be a hurt/comfort type of thing
HIIII OMG I'M SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT??? and ofc anon babe, i gotchu >:)) imma consider this a part 2 for the noir x criminal reader :DD
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
content warnings! mentions of bleeding, open flesh wounds, mentions of guns and firing of guns, and light cursing up ahead. please don't read any further beyond the cut if you are uncomfortable with these themes ^^
"when is this ever going to be enough for you?"
his voice was stern, though extremely exhausted. he was finishing sewing up the wounds you sustained earlier when he found you. he had a long day fighting crooks, and to top it all off, you were there. you were there, and you got hurt, badly. he knew he didn't need to help you, you knew he could've knocked you out and threw you to the curb to wait for the cops to take care of after a few hours--but he did. he carried you in his arms gently, said sorry when you moaned out in pain as he felt over a flesh wound on your side which was generously given to you by one of your 'allies' as they screwed up shooting a guard and had the bullet ricochet and lodge itself into your side.
you felt dizzy a while ago due to how much blood you were losing, but luckily, peter found you and brought you to a rooftop where hardly anyone frequented and patched you up with a stray med kit he found at a nearby clinic. he was a little scrappy at it, and you had to teach him how to do it since you were used to getting scuffed up on this crappy job. you winced and breathed in sharply through your teeth as he took the bullets out, applied the ointment, and sewed up the open flesh wounds you got. you told him exactly just how painful it was, it was a stinging pain that you wished would go away as you told him to take it easy, but he refused to give you that luxury--a pass on the pain you deserved for thinking you would be able to live a carefree life after trying to continue this life of crime.
"what do i have to do to change your mind?" he asked you after you hurled insults and curse words at him while he patched you up and finished. "change my mind? with what?" you asked a little sarcastically, knowing that peter would get angry like he did last time, which you found... a little attractive. peter sighed as he looked up at you unmasked; he was dashing as always; looking soft and harmless, but you knew he was anything but those things, in reality. "you know what i mean." he said as he got up and looked down at the alley he found you and a few other members of your little ensemble down there, injured. you breathed out a sigh as well as you looked up at his back that was now facing you. "i would if i could, parker. you can say you know how shitty this world is, and yet you don't seem to realize why i do what i do." you said with an ironic chuckle, a chuckle at how depressing your situation had become.
"and you don't seem to realize that i do everything i can to help you." he chimed in as soon as you stopped talking. he turned to face you, no longer having any anger in his eyes, instead pure sympathy and care filled his frame as he brought his shoulders down and faced you like you were no criminal, no evil doer, no sinner--a human, just like him, who struggled to survive. "i'm more than willing... more than willing to wire you money. aunt may's told me to give more than i can receive, and you're always the first person i think of every waking hour. connect the dots, why don't you?" he asked you to do with a cracking voice as he sat down next to you, taking off his glasses to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.
"i'd give you the world, a whole new one, if you wanted." he said as he met your gaze, staring into his own with a look of perplexity and just a tad bit of guilt and shame. he gently took your hand in his own gloved one and sighed. "even if this world hates you for what you've become... i'd protect and love you anyway." he muttered, which made your eyes go wide, and your mind run a mile a minute at what he said. you opened your mouth to speak, but when no words--no sound, no peep, no squeak, no nothing--came out, you closed it again, and found yourself merely staring at him, fazed entirely by those six words he uttered.
"please... don't do this anymore. it kills me every... every time you..." he muttered, unable to continue his thoughts as he took your hands in his own and clenched them, sobbing, begging for you to give up this dangerous life and just... let him in, let him help you.
a/n: gonna end this here, sorry :' )) but i want it to be up to you guys where this goes ^^
tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @maxoloqy @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper
#spider noir#spider noir x reader#spider noir x you#spider noir x y/n#atsv#atsv imagines#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader
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In which Fitz has a not-so-subtle crush on Daisy, Daisy knows Fitzsimmons is endgame, and Fitz has absolutely no idea what’s coming.
#aosedit#daisyjohnsonedit#leofitzedit#marveledit#daisy johnson#leo fitz#aos#marvel#fitzsimmons#fitzdaisy#television#gif#*#*gif#idk if this counts as fitzdaisy idk bc like thats my brotp tag for them IDK#if anyone wants me to change it i gotchu shoot me an ask#aosrewatch
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180 Turn to You
{Bokuto Koutarou x genderneutral! Reader}
((Do you guys even need the guide?))
Guide :
(Y/N) = Your Name
(C/N) = Crush’s name
((bruh,, do you really need ya crush??? That bih broke ya heart,,, now ya reading anime men,, honestly same))
(((((is this how I write him????? Did I do it right???? I’m not sure how to tag this ending, I’m writing at the top of my head)))))
----------------------------
It was no surprise to see you at the gymnasium again, the Fukurodani volleyball team were used to seeing you come in. You were always the plug, bringing snacks during their break and sometimes even energy drinks. The managers were always thankful of you dropping in from time to time, cause not only do you help them give out the towels and help refill the bottles, but you somehow held their precious and hyperactive ace on a leash. Besides Akaashi, who had seemed to have a lightbulb go off when Bokuto responded positively and listened to you when things are not going his way, Akaashi threw a meaningful nod, a silent ‘Thank you for being alive to help me with the emotional owl’.
Which you responded, an ‘ok’ gesture, a signal to reply to him, ‘I gotchu bruh’.
But this visit was different. Instead of approaching with your mellow and calm vibes, you appeared with red-rimmed, puffy eyes, glossed with already shed tears and eyes looking heartbroken. You tried your best biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying, and you did, as no one even noticed, not looking anyone in the eye for more than five seconds before turning elsewhere to give out the last water bottle.
Like anyone else, Akaashi was known to be observant and perspective, seeing other peoples tells and what they results are. He was good at that. He was also known for being a good friend and wingman. Contrary to belief, Bokuto had noticed your change in demeanor, shoulders slumped a bit and the forced smile he always love seeing on your cute face hadn’t reached the corners of your eyes.
“Akaashi,” The dark-haired male looked to his captain, the ends of his excited hair drooping a bit, “Doesn’t (Y/N) seem...weird?"
Akaashi wiped the sweat from the corner of his brow with the towel you’ve given to him, as he drank his water bottle, his eyes glanced to your figure, standing by the doors of the gym, you were kicking off something off your shoe and every time you let out a deep exhale, you begin to wipe your face with the end of your sleeve. Placing down the water bottle, he sat down on the bench and turned to his dear friend, “Bokuto-san, weird is a rude way to put it. Odd, yes. Weird, no. (Y/N) seems different today because maybe something happened, like they didn’t pass a test or they got into an argument with a friend.”
Bokuto drilled his eyes onto you, not like you noticed, you were too busy checking your phone, seeing if (C/N) texted you, expecting a better response to how they rejected you so curtly today. Yet, nothing. Well, nothing apologetic, as (C/N) continued to text you as if you didn’t pour your heart into confessing to them as they laughed at your face and denied your attraction towards them. You bit your lip, fingers gripping the phone as you shoved it into your pocket, hands balled into fists as you felt the utter annoyance and humiliation from how naive you thought you are, thinking that they’ll like you back.
As you waited for the team to leave, you sat on the bench at the corner of the gym building, you kept scrolling past through several past messages you had with (C/N). It was weird, how they would act so cozy and cutesy, but once you address them that you like them, thinking the signals they sent were definitely mutual between you and them, they shoot it down. Tears began to drop, one by one, as you sniffled, rubbing your nose with the hem of your sleeve, hiccuping a bit.
Something draped over your head, startled from the suddenness, you look up and see Bokuto looking down, standing as he crouches to your feet. He didn’t say anything, taking your phone and placing it to your side. You feel for the cloth that was on your head, soft and woodsy smell. It was his jacket.
“Heya.” He grins to you.
“Hi...” You mutter, looking down to your hands.
Bokuto tilts his head owlishly, his large hand holding yours, not hesitant by the fact you twitched by his impulsive actions. “Why are you sad?” He asks, peeking to see your face.
Sniffling, you shrugged.
“Did you fail a test? You shouldn’t worry about that, I fail plenty of tests, but I’m still passing somehow. Akaashi helps me a lot, but Konoha says its cause people don’t like to see himbos sad. I don’t really know what that means, but I’m glad no one likes to see me sad.” He pouts a bit, “I don’t wanna see you sad. Himbo or not, I think you’re really smart and you’re able to get back up if things don’t go your way.”
You let out a watery giggle, the unintended joke that Bokuto made was pretty funny, seeing your light reaction made Bokuto feel happier, he continued, “I think whatever happened today, or yesterday, or three days before, I think you were able to study and prepare for what happened! You’re always prepared for stuff! I’m not usually prepared cause I just wing it, but I know from you, you can keep going when things aren’t okay. You help through that a lot,” He plays with your fingers and holds both in his own, “I wanna help you through it, too, y’know.”
Bokuto always had something to say, even if it was a bit off. Yet somehow, what he says hits the mark most of the time. Three days before, you had planned and rehearsed your confession, thinking of possibilities of what will happen. Though, you hadn’t prepared to be laughed at by (C/N) and have what had between you two pretend like nothing happened, going throughout their day, whilst you stay sad with a broken heart.
Bokuto did make you feel better. You started to forget what happened today, sure it made you a bit bitter, but Bokuto’s sweetness overfilled your heart.
The ace began to see you stare at your hands, the small smile fading a bit. He pouted even more, grabbing your hands and placing them on his face, pushing cheeks together as he leaned close to you. “Don’t get sad now, (Y/N)! Let’s head to my place and watch that anime you like! The guy that keeps eating fingers!”
Your eyes widened to see his golden eyes sparkle, staring into yours. “U-Uh, sure, Bokuto.” Blushing from how close he is, you should be used to this, as Bokuto doesn’t recognize the concept of personal space.
He scrunched his nose, his hands pressing against yours to squish his face he hummed. “I know what we should do! Let’s do those sleepovers where you put that face masks of animals on me! The ones that smell good! I can take some from my sisters, they won’t know!” He proposed his idea, attempting to make you feel better as he plans.
“I-I’m not sure, Bo...” “Please! I’m here, y’know? I wanna help you, and I know you like to do those skincare stuff! My skin needs extra help, feel it!”
Blinking, you gulp down the internal screams as you rub your thumbs on his cheek, seeing his happy face become dazed a bit, he looked as if he was melting in your hands while you continued to caress him. You chuckled at how cute he can be.
“Fine, let’s go.”
He beamed, smile shining as bright as the sun, “Yosh!”
---------
Bokuto kept patting his face, astonished by how soft his skin is. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! Feel my skin! it’s so soft and shiny! The wonders of the mask is so cool!”
You smiled at him, patting your own face and began rubbing your hands. While he was busy, occupied with how amazing his skin had become, your phone chimed. Glancing at it, you frowned immediately.
(C/N) : Let’s hang out, just the two of us! It’ll be a date :D
When Bokuto turned around, seeing that you haven’t answered his question, his smile faltered, seeing you frown again, he shuffled onto the bed and plopped his chin on your shoulder. “Why are you sad again?” He muttered in a defeated tone. He thought having a sleepover will make you feel better, were you not enjoying it? Was he forcing too much of you? Is he making you feel bad or trapped that you had to be obligated to hang out with him?
“It’s not you, Bo. It’s...(C/N).” You replied, chucking your phone to the heap of pillows on his bed.
“(C/N)? The one in Akaashi’s class?” He asked, lifting his chin as you turn to him.
You nodded. “I told them I liked them and they...laughed at me. They said they didn’t like me and they only liked me as a friend. But it’s weird! They text me and get all...hugging and cutesy with me, they pretend they haven’t rejected me and go one through their day. Then,” “Then?”
“Then, they want to go on a date. Frickin, pick what you want us to be, jeez! I can’t keep up with their 180 turns! It’s getting me confused and I don’t want to keep having my heart ache.” You cross your arms on your chest and Bokuto hugs you from behind.
He hums. “Well, if it was me, I’ll say I’ll like you.” “That would be nice. And way better to understand. You’re straightforward. Not to mention even though your emotions do complete 180s, I’ll be there and I’ll be able to keep you close, also we get to be straightforward and have no...weird mixed signals to know that we’re just dancing around the subject of hand.”
Bokuto nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, his hair no longer his usual hairstyle as he already took a shower as its down and fluffier. “Mm! You don’t have to see them anymore either! We see each other more often and hang out more!”
You continued on, “We also are kind of that hyperactive and calm-collected dynamic too!”
“Ohoh! If you got together with (C/N), you have to memorize their favorite foods and movies. You already know tons of stuff about me!” He hugs you closer as you begin to laugh. “Bo, you have to know their favorite movies and foods if you’re dating. It’s part of being together. Making an effort is what makes the relationship work.”
He cuddles you more, strong arms around your waist and legs on either side of yours, “We make everything work, even if we argue n’ stuff like that.” You blink slowly. “We...Do, don’t we?”
“If anything, I’m always here, (Y/N).” “You always were and still, Bokuto.” You spoke, realization dawning on you.
He sighs, breathing in your scent mixed in with his conditioner, “I’ll always like you, even if you do a 180.”
Your hand held onto his, a small smile of fondness on your face as he laces your fingers with his, “I’ll always like you too. Even if your emotions do a 180.”
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model!rose
find model!jisoo: here! model!jennie: here! and model!lisa: here!
doesn’t do runway that often because she already has to stand a long ass time for her job, she don’t wanna have to walk in some crazy high heels too
only does it when a lot of her other friends are in the same show or her company won’t let her refuse
like “rose... this is gucci. you can not say no to gucci.”
she’ll put 110% effort into any project she does, though
this is her job, after all, and she does enjoy it, and it makes it even better knowing that she put her best effort into it
this girl is the LITERAL definition of photogenic
like, most people have at least one funny photo of them out there somewhere, but rose? has? none?
not even from her pre teen years, like EVERYONE has a cringe middle school year, but hers like fricken amazing
jisoo tried to make it her life mission to get a derpy photo of rose, but literally every time she took a photo of her off guard, it just looked like a really beautiful candid
eventually, jisoo gave up, she was just like ‘screw this, you’re too beautiful, i give up’
did i mention that she has the cutest friendship with wendy? like, obviously she’s closest to jisoo, jennie, and lisa, but her wendy have had such good chemsitry since day 1, like they just get along so well, it’s v v v cute
was once in a music video for TVXQ, and jisoo almost cried (she actually cried), but rose was like ‘i gotchu, boo’
then proceeded to bring jisoo to the filming site (with permission ofc) and introduced for to Yunho and Changmin and jisoo got to talk with them and take pictures with them, and they even gave her a hug right before she left
jisoo was so over the moon that she showed up at rose’s apartment a week later and was like ‘pack your bags, we’re going on a vacation, i already cleared it with your company.’
and rose was like ?? omg, jisoo, this is so last minute?? where are we even going??
*jisoo, throwing clothes into a suitcase*: it’s a surprise
turns out they were going to australia. rose started crying when she saw her family waiting for her there at the airport. jennie and lisa were there as well, and they were like: ‘we’re gonna let you hang with your family for a week, we’ll meet you back here in a week’
rose: ‘i love you all so much?’
the rest of bp: ‘we know’
rose has this habit of saying ‘wait, what?’ even though she heard and understood everything perfectly, and jennie just sighs and gives her a few seconds to catch up with the conversation
her and lisa always competing to see who can eat a fried chicken the fastest, and it always ends up in a tie
you’re actually fairly close to rose because you’re a photographer that works with a brand that rose models for a lot
and rose is your favorite model to work with because, while she is immensely photogenic, she’s also a sweetheart that takes interest in what you do as well?
like, models don’t need to know what kind of camera you’re using or the type of equipment you prefer, but rose is always so interested?
like, ‘oh, are you using a new camera today? what type is it? what are the good points of this camera? would you recommend it?’
sometimes she’s scared she’s being annoying by asking too many questions, but you always reassure her that you actually love it when she does that? it’s endearing, and you appreciate her making conversation over something you’re interested in
she constantly expresses that your photos of her are her favorite, and she’s always showing off your photos on her instagram and @ ing you and telling all her followers to go follow you!
someone named @bobbykim keeps commenting ‘my otp, i’m fanboying’ whenever you two make a post about each other
your friend/coworker joy keeps trying to get you to ask her out, but you keep going ‘she’s just being nice, i don’t think she sees me in that way’
SPOILER ALERT: SHE TOTALLY DOES
and it takes you guys traveling to a different continent to finally figure that out, like hot damn, you guys couldn’t have figured this out at home
like the both of you had been flown out to europe for an exclusive photo shoot, and rose is so excited to hear that you’re the photographer that she calls up lisa and is like ‘THE CUTE PHOTOGRAPHER IS HERE’ and lisa is just calmly like ‘you guys are in the city of love, do not let me down by coming back single’ and hangs up bc international calls are expensive af
and rose kinda stands there contemplating her options when you come up to greet her
and you end up scaring the living day lights out of her, causing her to trip and fall
profusely apologizing but rose insisting that she’s alright, she was spacing out, so it’s partially her fault
que a slightly awkward silence, followed by rose asking if you were doing anything after the shoot ended
you: ‘i was thinking about walking around a little, but i’m afraid of getting lost alone and not being able to communicate with anyone’
rose *internally*: THIS IS LIKE FATE OR SOME CRAP BECAUSE I WANT TO WALK AROUND WITH SOMEONE, PREFERABLY YOU, AND I CAN SPEAK THE LANGUAGE, IS THIS DESTINY OR WHAT
rose *outloud*: ‘oh! well, i’m actually pretty fluent in the language and was looking for someone to go sightseeing with me. would you be interested?’
ofc you say yes, you’re still in your right mind
and it’s perfect, sightseeing with rose as she shows you into her favorite shops and has you try some food that you can’t even pronounce the name of
but something in the back of your head keeps bugging you because
is this a date? or is rose just being nice and friendly?
your question is answered at 8:00 in the evening, when the sun starts setting, and all the sudden you feel a really soft? and warm hand? slipping into yours?
and you look over to find rose looking down at her shoes, blushing profusely
your heart melts, she just looks so pure and beautiful, so you just loosen her grip a little, only to properly entwine your fingers together
if you had a heart reading on rose in that moment, it would be the most dramatic drop, and then a rapid increase, most people would be like ‘that is not healthy’
rose looking at you with wide eyes, and you just shyly going ‘i prefer to hold hands tightly’
she swears she could have just kissed you in that moment but she was like @ me..... chill
everyday for the week you two are in paris, you and rose spend it getting to know each other a little better, sipping wine on her hotel balcony, and even taking a picture of her as the sun sets behind her.
that picture is your pride and joy, and is now in a frame, sitting on the nightstand next to your bed
as you two come back, lisa is already at the airport, waiting for rose, and she’s sad when rose emerges, without you by her side, because... did it not... happen
but, no, lisa, it’s only because you two took different flights, and you’ll be arriving tomorrow morning
rose doesn’t tell her that, though. she decides to surprise lisa by going to their scheduled lunch date 4 days later, with your hand entwined with hers.
lisa flipping in the middle of the restaurant and jennie being like... lisa... pls... we’re in public
lisa: ‘I CALLED IT. I TOTALLY CALLED IT’
bobby+jennie+jisoo: ‘we all called it, sit down and decide what you want to eat, you’ve been staring at the menu for half an hour.’
rose falling more in love with you when she sees how well you get along with her friends
and eventually falling in love with you again when she sees how much you enjoy being around her family
a while after you start dating, rose takes on the habit of taking photos of you for a change
you’re really shy about it at first because ‘i’ve only ever been behind the camera’
rose reassuring you, saying ‘while a camera can’t capture all of your beauty, it’s nice to have something to remind me of you when we’re not together’
every model you ever worked with now knows you and rose are dating, and it’s like?? how??
everyone in a 100 mile radius: she likes to tell anyone and everyone about how perfect you are
concept: the next time you and rose do a shoot together, rose is naturally more flirty and cute, and while you two are looking over the photos together later on, you’re like ‘is it me, or did rose get more beautiful some how?’ and joy, from ten feet behind you two just goes: ‘I WANT TO MAD BY ALL THIS MUSHY CRAP, BUT IT’S SO CUTE THAT I CAN’T’
then rose smiling shyly at that and giving you a kiss on the cheek while joy takes a picture
which is now your phone background because it was just too cute
should i do another model!au with another group after i finish lisa’s, or should i do another au? let me know!
#blackpink#park chaeyoung#roseanne park#rose#blackpink scenarios#rose scenarios#chaeyoung scenarios#blackpink fanfic#rose fanfic#chaeyoung fanfic#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfic#kpop girls
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The Hideout
Okay so before you start reading this I just want you to know that this was an idea I had in my head and that I am not romanticizing any of the events. Feel free to share your feed back and go ahead and send anons. These are oc's and it's not fanfiction. If it seems like people like it I will continue. Hope you enjoy it! :b
Bring her in,” Skye said. She sat, back straight, at a table filled with food. The prisoner came in, one guard on either side. She had blond hair with pink highlights. Her eyes were purple, no doubt from contacts, Skye thought. “Well, pull out her chair. We must treat out guest with respect.” “Their,” she said, sitling down. “Excuse me?” “My pronouns are them and their. Not her.” Oh, my apologies, er…?” Skye asked, making a mental note. “Cris. And you are…? “Skye. Pleased to meet you Cris. Now, we must discuss the reason –“ “Food first,” Cris interrupted. They pulled a plate of chicken legs toward them and placed it on top of the one in front of them. “Why the rainbow?" They asked pointing to Skye's short, multicolored hair. She ran a hand through her dyed locks absentmindedly. There was a reason, of course, why she chose these colors, but Skye did not like talking about it with people she just met. "Take a wild guess," was all she said. "Ah," Cris nodded knowingly, "I gotchu." The meal continued. Halfway through, Cris put their black boots up on the table. Their laces were bright green, perfect when paired up with the black. As they talked, Skye began to like Cris more and more. When they were nearing the end, Cris jokingly said that their dream was to become the owner of Pringles. "Speaking of dreams," Skye said after a pause, "I have a very big one that I would like to share with you." "Shoot." Cris swallowed the last of their food and looked at her expectantly. "AS you may have noticed, everything in this city is perfect. No fights, no unkept lawns, no parades, no laughter, no nose rings." She gestured at Cris's piercing. "No, no, no, no, no. That’s all they let us do. You must have a minimum of two children. A marriage is defined as XX and XY. All special needs people are put to death when diagnosed. And no one does anything to stop it." Skye paused, waiting for Cris's reaction. "My parents were the exact same. "No, Cristoper, dresses are for girls." "No, you are not neither." "Boys don’t sing.'' They wanted to confine me to heteronormativity and gender roles. They believed that all the rules were perfect and breaking them meant I wanted to live in a place full of crime, disease, and death. What better parents than that, am I right?" Yah. And that’s what our plan is. We will fight The Bifrost and take over. I want you to join me and my team to do something about it. Now I know that –" "I'll join." "You may have some – Wait what? You'll join?" Skye looked at them skeptically. "Why?'' "I don’t like to run," Cris said, as if this was a valid explanation of why they would be up to joining a group based on destruction and stood up. "Now let's go meet your team."
Farther underground than Cris would have ever thought possible, they found them. A group of about thirty teenagers were in a room about the size of a gym with plenty of extra space. Light bounced of their hair which was in so many colors it would have given Iris a run for her money. The occasional glint of metal suggested that each one had some kind of stud. A mix of laughter and curses echoed through the room. Just their kind of people. Skye told them to meet her over at the stage in ten minutes and left to talk to someone. Cris walked around, meeting different people. It felt nice, they thought, to be part of this group. A girl named Pearl was just showing them where the cake was when their ten minutes was up. Cris just got to the stage when Skye began to talk. "Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals!" Through the microphone, her voice had taken on a tone that took away the serious voice that made her role as leader more prominent. "How are we doing tonight?" This got a yell as loud as a crowd at a football game rather than a small group of adolescents. "We are going to meet our newest member today! It is both an honor and a pleasure to introduce to you – drumroll please..." The noise echoing through the gym turned it into the Fourth of July. After letting the sound go on for a while Skye finally shouted, "Cris!" The group gave a loud applause worthy of a famous singer, Cris thought, not someone like them. It was Skye's voice that brought them back to reality. "Cris's pronouns are they and them. Cris would you like to tell us a little about yourself?" They stepped forward, nervousness seeping in making Cris's bones feel like led. "Er... I-I'm Cris," Their voice cracked at the end, but they kept talking. "I'm er, nonbinary and er, sixteen years old. My favorite color's blue. I ran away from home when I was younger and now im here. So..." "Why'd you run away?'' Someone from the crowd asked. Cris paused. They hated talking about the subject. Whenever Cris opened up to someone, it usually backfired. How could they tell everyone? The last time Cris told anyone... No. These people were different. They would understand. Besides, these people were their family now. They began. I was about six when I realized I wasn't a boy," Cris took a breath. "When I told my mom, well she tried to force it onto me. When I never went with it, she started calling me useless and broken and tried to get me to change that way. I told her over and over that I wasn't a boy or a girl and she began keeping me in my room and from playing with my friends. When I was eight, I finally had enough of it. My older brothers tried to keep me from going, but I kicked their butts," Cris shrugged as if it were no big deal. "it was a good thing I always won hide and seek," they chuckled. This gained a small laugh from the group. "I've been hiding for eight years. Now I'm going to eat some of that cake.
Cris lay awake in their bed, After the talk on the stage they found Pearl. She was talking to her boyfriend who asked them to call him Mama Steve and that he would be their mother now. They stayed and talked (while eating an unhealthy amount of rainbow cake) until Skye came and told them that it was time to go to bed as they were the last ones there. Cris's room was dark with only the projected constellations twinkling on their ceiling. Staring at the stars, Cris new that they were finally in a place that they could call home. No more running, no more living in fear. For the first time in their life, Cris went to sleep content with were they ended up.
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Dark Side | [ch. 6]
Sometimes Patton feels like he’s nothing but a pile of emotions.
Wordcount: 4.3k
Warnings: implied eating disorder
A/N: I am...so sorry...my upload schedule is absolutely fucked. College is hard, y’all. Anyway. I’m posting it now so that’s what counts. Masterpost/links to other chapters to come!
| Read on AO3 |
The moment Remy slips off Patton is instantly lost in the crowd. The voices and laughter mingle in his head into a mess of colors. He feels like levitating. He’s here. Finally. He’s off on his own and--and he can go anywhere he wants, talk to anyone--an older guy bumps into him and Patton turns his most brilliant smile on him, jolting a surprised grin onto the other guy’s face.
The air smells amazing. Patton can identify barbecue of some kind, of course, but he can also smell what he thinks is fresh brownies and cherry blossoms. It’s like trekking through heaven. He doesn’t even mind that it’s so hot. No way is he going back to his room now just to put on shorts. He hasn’t even unpacked, but that’s the furthest thing from his mind. There are people out here. People. And food and games and--Patton almost stops dead. And music? Is that live music? There’s no way he’s leaving now.
It takes him a while but he eventually tracks the singing to a large gazebo. A few upperclassmen are standing up there with guitars and mics and amplifiers, singing a slightly off key (but nevertheless enjoyable) rendition of Don’t Stop Believing. Students are scattered all over the steps, talking and singing along and eating.
That’s when Patton’s reminded how long it’s been since he and Virgil had breakfast, and he sets off in search of food. Music’s fun, but it’s not gonna fill his stomach.
His eyes light up when he finally spots the food tables, which seem to be about a mile long stacked end to end--then his face immediately falls when he sees how long the line is.
Oh, well. It’s probably best to get in line now rather than later. Patton’s sure if he waits any longer all the food will be gone. He treks to the back of the line and settles in for a long, hot wait, then texts Remy.
How is he?
Not answering the door, Remy texts back.
Patton frowns. He’s about to respond when another text pops up. He’ll be fine. He’s probably just mad, he’ll cool down. You guys are like best friends right?
Right, Patton texts back, biting his lip. Then he adds: Are you gonna come get food? I’m saving you a spot in line.
On my way already. Then, a second later, Can you wave?
Patton waves a hand over his head and a second later Remy comes bounding over to him. She’s changed into a tiny sundress vibrant enough to match her eyeshadow, and her sunglasses have still not come off. “Hiya!” she chirps. “Enjoying yourself? Met anyone new?”
“Oh, definitely,” says Patton, grinning. “Haven’t met anyone yet, though. I’ve been too...excited, I guess. So many people to start a conversation with, it’s hard to know where to start.” In truth he feels like he might vibrate out of his skin with excitement. He’s shaky with the movement of it all, of being on the road, on campus, in the res hall, out here. Shaky with the heat and weight of Virgil’s frustration and what that means for him. Before he can think about it anymore, however, he’s interrupted.
“Here, I gotchu,” says Remy, and taps the shoulder of the girl ahead of them in line. She turns to look at them, vaguely curious, and Patton’s somewhat stunned by how obviously and boldly attractive she is. That’s not usually the kind of thing he notices. She’s got dark brown hair waterfalling down her shoulders, reaching nearly to her waist. It curls in tight corkscrews and the flyaways make a bright halo around her head in the light. Freckles are flung haphazardly across her nose, partially obscured by the oddly patterned gold makeup she’s wearing. She’s drawn swirls and solid blocks of gold all around her eyes. It looks like she’s wearing a gold leaf mask. Her features are clear and sharp, and she holds herself like a dancer, as though every movement is a choreographed step.
“Hi!” Remy smiles. “Patton’s trying to meet new people. You’re a new person. Meet each other.”
“Oh,” says the girl softly, and giggles. “Hi, Patton.” She holds out a hand for him to shake, and he takes it. Despite the heat her skin is cool and delicate; Patton feels like he’s holding a baby bird. “Are you a freshman too?” she asks.
“Uh, yeah.” He can’t think of anything to say after that, so he just keeps smiling.
“And this is…?” the girl asks, indicating Remy.
“Oh, I’m Remy.” says Remy, shifting her weight from hip to hip, watching the interaction between them and grinning. “We’re roommates.”
The girl raises one eyebrow. “Wow, they let you live with your girlfriend?” she asks. “That must’ve taken some fighting. How’d you do it?”
Patton chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, we’re not-”
“Patton’s single,” Remy says helpfully. “Very single,” she adds, eyes sparkling. Patton looks at her, a what-are-you-doing kind of look, but Remy doesn’t seem to take the hint and anyway...Patton’s not sure he minds all that much that this girl knows he’s single.
“So, Patton,” the girl asks, “where you from?”
“Ah, little town in the middle of nowhere. Victoria. You probably wouldn’t know it.”
The girl’s eyes light up. “Actually, I have a cousin in Victoria.”
“Oh, really? That’s cool. I wonder if I know her.”
They fall to talking about Victoria and the girl’s glamorous cousin (who evidently moved there because she had eloped with a boy that her parents, the girl’s aunt and uncle, had thoroughly disapproved of).
Remy stands by and smirks at the whole thing, swirling the seemingly unmeltable ice in her coffee. Patton’s not sure he’s entirely comfortable with that, but he really likes this girl, and with the way they’re talking it feels like it’s taken about five minutes to get the food table instead of the twenty that it probably is. The array of food is impressive: fruit bowls, a number of cold salads including potato, macaroni, and tuna, Indian rice, black beans, baked beans, tortilla chips, guacamole, and of course barbecue. Barbecued chicken, barbecued ribs, brisket...Patton can’t believe the school has the money to pay for all of this. Then again, he reasons, that’s probably where ridiculous tuition costs come in.
Patton takes what is probably way too much food and follows Remy and the girl they’d met in line to a clear spot on the grass.
“In the summer,” the girl tells him as they sit, “they bring a huge projector out here and show movies. It happens every weekend until it gets too cold.”
“Really?” asks Patton. “That’s so cool! Where did you learn that?”
“My sister used to go here,” the girl says breezily. She then proceeds to tell Patton everything she knows about the school: secret passages under the theater building, hauntings in the residence halls, scandals and epic senior pranks and legendary students. Patton doesn’t even feel like talking; he just wants to bask in the light coming off her.
About an hour later when the line’s died down he goes up to get more food even though he’s full; he’s not going to pass up an opportunity to eat barbecue, especially barbecue this good. The girl doesn’t seem to mind that he’s not contributing much to the conversation; instead, she seems to smile bigger or lean closer at his little “mhm”s and “gosh, what happened then?”s. Remy gets up and leaves and comes back and he hardly notices.
Finally his plate is emptied for a second time and the sun’s actually started to sink. Patton can’t believe how much time has passed. They’d been talking for ages. The lawn was still buzzing, of course, but people were starting to wander off to do other things--looking for freebies and checking out the halls. He suddenly remembers that his room still isn’t unpacked, and he hasn’t heard one word from Virgil. Not a single solitary “I’m okay” text.
He starts to get up with the intention of telling Remy that they should probably go unpack the room and falls back with a half groan instead. “Ugh, I don’t ever want to look at a piece of food again in my life.”
The girl giggles. “Should’ve slowed down, maybe?”
He smiles and shrugs. “Maybe.” He turns to Remy. “You wanna start unpacking?”
The girl brings a napkin delicately to her mouth. “You guys haven’t even started yet?”
“I was having too much fun,” says Patton sheepishly.
The girl tosses a long strand of hair over her shoulder. “Well, you two should probably go do that. I don’t mind, I’ve got other people to talk to.”
Maybe she doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but the tiniest cold shiver runs down Patton’s spine. “Hey, wait,” he says. “You’ve gotta at least give me your number, after all that.”
He swallows hard. He’s used to approaching people, used to being what most people would call ridiculously outgoing, but he’s never asked for someone’s number so blatantly before.
She gives him a coquettish smile. “I suppose.” She holds out a hand. “Unlock your phone?”
He does, and hands it over. She takes it, eyes flickering mischievously between his eyes and the screen, and a moment later hands it back to him, flicking it off before she does so. Then she gets up and leaves, disappearing into the crowd so fast that Patton doesn’t even have the time to process and call out a goodbye until it’s too late. He looks up at Remy, who arches an eyebrow at him high enough that he can see it over her sunglasses.
“Well,” she says. “That was eventful.”
“Do you like her?” Patton asks anxiously as they start to clear away the plates and napkins.
“Too quick for any kind of judgement,” Remy says evenly. “She is interesting, I’ll give her that. Hey, did she ever say what her name is?”
“Shoot,” says Patton. “I can’t believe I completely forgot to ask.”
“Check your phone, maybe?” Remy says.
Patton pulls out his phone and brings up contacts. She hasn’t exactly hidden herself; she’s the very first contact on the list. Or, at least, he assumes that that’s her. He’s not sure he knows any other “snake emoji you’ll see winking face��es.
But he has been known to make mistakes.
He shoots off a quick text to Virgil-- How ya doing, buddy?-- and leaves it at that. Of course he’s worried, but it never does any good to push at Virgil. He doesn’t know how to push back and inevitably the whole thing just gets messy and sad and more often than not it ends in tears for one or both of them.
Walking back to his room already seems the tiniest bit familiar, and Patton is hoping that by the end of the semester this path will be seared into his brain. He wants it to feel like home. He can already imagine walking back from a class or lunch or coffee with Remy wearing matching scarves and cardigans in the fall, talking and laughing.
Somehow he can’t see Virgil in a scarf or cardigan.
When he and Remy make it back to the room, just the sight of all the boxes stacked on the floor makes him want to collapse and never move again. But then Remy bumps him from behind and says “get moving, slowpoke, or we’ll miss movie night,” and he gets a surge of energy.
“There’s movie night?” he says, perking up.
“Uhuh. Snake emoji girl was right, they sometimes do them on the lawn, but I think tonight it’ll be in the drama building, in the theater. In case it rains.”
“What’re we watching?” he asks.
Remy shrugs. “No idea. But a movie’s a movie, right?”
Patton’s not entirely sure he agrees, so he just shrugs back and changes the subject. “Are you really going to call her snake emoji girl now?”
“Yup,” says Remy, grinning. “It’s stuck in my head and won’t get out. She’s going to forever be snake emoji girl so get used to it. Unless you’d prefer eye makeup sorceress, Rapunzel of curls, or little miss talkative.”
“Um…” Patton can’t really say that any of those are appealing.
“Great. Snake emoji girl it is.”
“If you say so.”
“...We should probably be unpacking instead of sitting on the beds and talking.”
Patton groans and stands up, but continues talking. It becomes rather quickly apparent that the two of them aren’t really able to be in the same room without talking, but they do manage to get all the boxes opened and their contents dumped out on the floor. This is very satisfying at first, but then Patton looks at the huge mess they’ve made of the floor and kind of wants to pull his hair out.
“No worries!” says Remy. “We just...uh...we need music.”
She pulls her phone out of her pocket, runs to the kitchen and comes back with a red solo cup, and puts on Pandora before placing the phone carefully in the cup. The music echoes out, a little tinny and artificial but definitely louder. Remy’s selected some song with sugary sweet pop tunes that all sound like they were played on the bus on the way to school in 2012-- Party in the USA, Girlfriend, Call Me Maybe, et cetera.
Honestly it’s not too far off from what Patton usually listens to.
“So where’d you meet Virgil? What’s his deal?” Remy asks as they start dividing up dresser and closet spaces, refolding the clothes that got jostled in the moving process or in being tossed to the floor (which is pretty much all of them).
“We grew up together,” Patton tells her. “We were in the same kindergarten class and...I dunno, I just kinda gravitated to him. The kid just looked so lonely, y’know?”
Remy glances over at him. “You remember thinking that all the way back then?”
Patton frowns. “I’m not sure. It’s just kind of a….feeling from a memory, that I remembered.” he shrugs. “And anyway, just look at him. Kid’s always had kind of a...lonely demeanor.”
Patton had always sort of hated that. Hated that his friendship wasn’t enough to lift the moodiness that seemed to settle around Virgil like dark clouds.
“Anyway,” he says, “We were friends in kindergarten, and just...never stopped. He had a whole lot of stuff going on in middle school, and it only got worse in high school….and I just...I wanted to be there for him, y’know?” He stares down at his tie dyed green tee shirt. “He’s like my brother. Heh, even my siblings just seem to think that he’s part of the family.”
Remy nods from her seat on the floor, going through a pile of sundresses. “I think that’s really great,” she says softly. “That you guys have been friends for so long.”
Patton smiles at her. “Well, hopefully we’ll be friends for just as long.”
Remy giggles. “That’s mathematically impossible, you dork. You’ll never know me for longer or as long as you’ve known him, because you’ll always have known him for whatever the number of years between kindergarten and freshman year of high school is longer than you’ve known me.”
Patton giggles at her. “All the same,” he says. “We’ll be close, right?”
“Definitely,” says Remy, shaking out a sundress patterned with red poppies. “Speaking of,” she says, suddenly sharp, “You never told me your thoughts on snake emoji girl.”
“That’s gonna get awkward to say real quick,” Patton mutters.
“Snemojirl, then,” says Remy, making Patton snort. “What’s the deal?”
“Aw, geez, I don’t know, Remy!” he says. “This is literally our first day on campus. We haven’t even had classes start yet.”
“Buuuut…” Remy prompts, wiggling her eyebrows. Patton sighs. “No ‘buts’ yet. No matter how good they look,” he adds cheekily.
Remy pouts. “But you’ll talk to me like we’re best friends and this is the first day we’re even meeting in person.”
Patton holds up a hand. “Actually- can we maybe limit talking about that?”
Remy looks puzzled. “Limit talking about what.?”
“About...us knowing each other before this.”
Remy only looks more confused. “But Patton, literally every set of roommates knows who the other roommate is going to be before they get to campus. Can you imagine meeting your roommate for the first time as soon as you get to campus? On the day you’re literally supposed to start living together?”
Patton chuckles uncomfortably, but he’s sure it sounds more like he’s choking. “Um, Remy-?”
“What?”
Remy looks up from her pile of sundresses and seems to catch his meaning. “Oh. Ohhh. Wait. Not oh. I’m confused. Explain. Why did Virgil just meet his roommate today?”
“He...he thought his roommate was going to be me.”
“Yeah? And you guys had some kind of problem with administration, right?”
“Uh...not exactly, no.” Patton buries his face in the shirt he’s holding. It smells like it’s been drying in the sun, like heat and dregs of laundry detergent and dryer sheets and his cologne. “Virge and I requested a room together. Well. We were supposed to. He requested a room with me. I….” Patton lets out a soft snort. “I was really, really stupid, Remy.”
“What’d you do?” Remy asks softly, and Patton can hear the concern in her voice.
“I withdrew my request to room with Virgil and put in preferences for a random roommate, and that’s how I ended up with you. That’s why I actually had to use the gender neutral opt in, because I was looking for people that were...not...Virgil.” Patton unburies his face from the tee shirt. It sounds awful when he puts it that way.
“Oh my god, why?” Remy asks. “Did you tell Virgil?”
Patton picks up the next tee shirt, tossing the first one into a drawer. “Did you see how upset he was? Of course I didn’t tell him.”
“But why’d you do it?” Remy repeats.
Patton balls up the next shirt he’s holding almost angrily, picks up the next one. “Because I really, really really want him to be able to survive on his own. He’s been clinging to me his whole life, and it’s not like I don’t mind….heck, if I could I’d never have him leave my side for the rest of our lives...but…” Patton bites his lower lip. “He’s dependent on me, I think.”
“Ohhh,” says Remy softly.
“I didn’t want him to just...y’know, keep on being the exact same all through college. And I feel like if I didn’t...fling him into the deep end, so to speak, he’d never learn to swim.
Remy stands up and lays a hand on his arm. “You’re not his dad, y’know.” Her tone is still gentle. “It’s not your responsibility to make him grow.”
Patton half pulls away, frustrated. “But no one else is going to do it! His parents treat him like some kind of ornamental goldfish! And like, not even like they know about and care about the proper treatment of ornamental goldfish! Just like...bad goldfish owners!”
“Still,” says Remy, “that doesn’t mean it should be your job.”
Patton groans and flops onto his bed. “I guess.”
Remy mirrors him, flopping onto her bed. “You wanna ask housing if we can do bunk beds?”
“Huh?”
“Enough serious talk, Pats, we’re gonna make our room look awesome.”
“Okay,” says Patton quietly.
“It’ll be fun,” Remy presses.
“Yeah.”
“Do you have any hobbies, Patton?”
“Uh...keeping Virgil out of trouble?” Patton tries to joke.
“Ha, ha. I mean fun stuff.”
“Before we talk about that, Remy, do you promise not to tell Virgil that I withdrew my request?”
Remy props herself up on her elbow and frowns at him from across the room. “Hm. I suppose so. But I honestly think you should tell him at some point. It’s not good to keep stuff like that from your friends. Especially if it’s eating away at you like this is for you.”
“Okay,” says Patton in a half groan. “I’ll tell him. At some point. I promise. But I’ll tell him after he discovers that he actually really likes his new roommate, and they’re super close friends, and their dorm looks so awesome he won’t wanna move, and he’s decided he likes all his classes, and-”
“Okay, okay,” says Remy, waving a hand at him. “But hobbies?”
Patton rolls over so he can look at her. “Well...I really like astronomy. So I do a lot of stargazing.”
Remy perks up. “Have you seen the observatory yet?”
“Yeah!” says Patton, lighting up like a glowstick. “Isn’t it awesome? I can’t wait to be there at night.”
“Me neither.”
They manage to unpack the room fairly quickly, outdated pop playing in the background and making Patton feel like he’s in a slightly lame but weirdly motivating music video for a teen summer blockbuster. The montage of unpacking at the awesome new school.
Two hours later, everything is put away and Remy is leaning over Patton’s shoulder as they check the internet for which constellations will be visible that night. Patton’s almost put Virgil out of his mind, determined to give him some space, when he gets a long overdue text back.
Patton. Can we meet somewhere that’s not my room? I’m not okay.
Patton’s heart sinks but he stands up from the computer, fingers already flying over the keypad. Sure, what’s up? Where do you want to meet?
By the river, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll tell you when we get there.
“What’s up?” Remy asks when Patton stands up. Patton must be frowning pretty hard at his phone.
“Uh...Virgil needs me. I’m not sure what’s wrong. I’ll be back later for movie night.” He gives her a halfhearted smile and pushes out the door before she can ask questions.
The river is almost right behind their hall. Patton has to walk along it for a while before he finds Virgil. Almost no one is around; Patton figures they’re all still at the barbecue or exploring the actual buildings on the grounds. Whatever it is, the nearest person is at least a quarter mile away on the other side of campus.
He’s perched on the guardrail of the bridge, hunched together, earbuds in. He looks like the album cover of a depressing band that died out in 2007. But then again, that’s how Virgil usually looks. It’s just striking Patton in particular right now.
“Virgil, buddy, what’s up?” he calls before he’s fully there.
Virgil looks up and Patton immediately goes still. His eyeliner is running all over his face; he hasn’t even attempted to wipe it away. He looks like he just got done sobbing.
As soon as Patton walks onto the bridge, Virgil hops off the railing, throws himself into Patton’s arms.
“P-patton, I h-hate my roommate. S-so much.”
“Aw, Virge,” says Patton, recovering from his shock enough to trail a hand over Virgil’s back. “Are you sure he’s that bad? I mean, you’ve known him, what, a few hours?”
“I d-don’t care. I w-wanna kill him.”
“Whoa there kiddo, that’s a bit of a leap, don’t you think?”
Virgil makes a vaguely disgruntled noise and wipes a hand under his eyes, smearing the eyeliner across his cheeks.
“I wanna go home, Pat. Just wanna go home.”
“This...this’ll feel like home soon enough, Virgil,” says Patton, hunting around for words. “Look, maybe this’ll be a really good experience for you! You got real good classes, didn’t you? Philosophy and biology and…” Patton can’t remember what else Virgil’s taking, so he just expands on those. “And you love philosophy, right? I can barely keep up with you. And you’re always drawing animals, and you have all those plants in your room.”
“It’s not the same,” Virgil mumbles. “Pat. I had a really bad panic attack just now. I think...I think they might be getting worse.”
Patton’s frown deepens. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Why didn’t you call? Or walk over to my room? It’s only a few rooms down.”
“Couldn’t,” says Virgil. “I froze up again. Patton, what if I start having panic attacks in class? People are gonna think I’m a freak.”
“No, they’re not,” Patton sighs. “Plenty of adults have panic attacks. Especially, I’m sure, adults in college.”
Virgil whimpers.
“And,” Patton continues, “If you get a panic attack in class, you’ll just do what you did in high school. Wait it out if you can’t move, or go get a drink of water if you can. You don’t even have to ask anymore.” Patton tries to smile at him, but Virgil resists his attempt to pull his head away from Patton’s shoulder.
“If you want to, if it’s really bad, you can even walk out and not come back. Just go to your room to calm down, email the professor, take the rest of the day off. This is college, Virgil. We’re adults. People care way less what we do now.”
“Still,” Virgil wails. “I’m going to have to go back to my room with my awful roommate.”
Patton sighs. “Virge, really, you gotta give him a chance. For me?”
Patton can practically feel the frown emanating from Virgil. “I guess. For you.”
There’s another unexpected pulse of guilt. Patton squeezes Virgil, trying to make the feeling go away. “You coming to movie night tonight?”
“Um...I..uh...I might. Will there be food?”
Patton tries to hide his grin. He has a feeling Virgil’s just going to get away from his roommate, but still. “Probably. I’ll ask Remy.”
Virgil pulls away then, hops back onto the railing of the bridge, and stares off into the water as he attempts to (and fails miserably at) scrubbing the eyeliner off his face. “Okay. I’ll see you then.”
Patton tries not to feel offended. Virgil often shuts down after an emotional event or recovering from a panic attack. He feels like he should probably be used to it by now, but he’s not. But he respects Virgil’s space.
When he gets back to the room, Remy’s asleep. It looks like such a good idea that he curls up and goes to sleep on his own bed, clothes and all.
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