#if you told me half a year ago that id be physically able to have long nails id have called you crazy
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
It's funny how long lasting base coat and top coat won't stop Essie polishes from chipping the next day, meanwhile I have to soak my nails with clips three(!) times total to be rid of all the Holo Taco polish, and can go for two whole weeks before the first tiny chips start to appear + seven days without base or top coat!
#it boggles my mind how different body chemistry affects which brands lasts#like my nail tech sibling prefers essie specifically cause it lasts long on them (for non gel polish)#also i removed my current manicure cause i get new polish soon that i wanna try#so got 3 days or so of trimming them down slightly shape them and also hydrate them#i managed to trim just enough to make me able to check heart rate again#but while still keeping them long and nice looking#if you told me half a year ago that id be physically able to have long nails id have called you crazy#i was mister ''would surgically remove all nails if given the option'' until this year#though to be fair it was because they were weak and hurt when they got too long#and therefore a sensory nightmare to my autistic ass#now that ive started using polish again for the first time in years AND#my years long work of strengthening my nails have bore fruit#suddenly i prefer having long nails#also it looks great on my hands frankly my hands are the one physical attribute im overly fond of lol#anyway i spent like 2 hours on this procedure and am currently resting my back oof#itching to paint them again but gotta stay strong..... tons of oil and then in 3 days new polish....#might just put some top coat on until then maybe for strengthenings sake#anyway this is me talking to myself mostly help got carried away#silvi talks
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii i don’t have a big enough blog but im sure you’ll be able to get ppl to help if you blog this??
https://www.tumblr.com/jasmiedhillon4/767017822600773632/i-never-imagined-id-be-in-a-position-where-id
stop thank you so much for sharing this!!!!!
i’ve read the description of the fundraiser and to try and convince you guys to donate im going to share some reasons why this kinda hits home and why im sharing this.
i don’t tell many people about this and honestly? i only started telling people four years ago and that was because 14 year old me broke down and revealed everything by accident.
i’ve lived in an abusive household. if you couldn’t tell by my nickname already i have ethnic backgrounds and abuse is unfortunately normal for people of my culture. but the lengths of abuse i dealt with were not normal.
there’s double standards in my religion. and that’s half the reason why personally i step back from it. the only time i do religious activities it to accompany my grandparents (mostly my grandma) who usually goes by herself but since im visiting ill go with her just to keep her company.
im sikh and in my religion it is very common for men to drink alcohol. its shameful for women to drink alcohol. now listen, i do drink alcohol and the females in my family do too but we’ve always drank in moderation never to a high extent. though my mum was a raging alcoholic.
my mum always had problems with alcohol. according to my uncles when she was my age she used to drink so much she’d frequently end up in the hospital. when she had me though she stopped and for years she’d have one drink every once in a while until she met my step dad.
now my step dad was an abusive alcohol asshole. he physically and mentally abused my mother and mentally abused me. when my mum kicked him out she fell into depression, and she had to blame someone so she blamed me.
i didn’t mind i used to be close to her so i let her do it. at first it was only mentally and i had already been dealing with that since i was 5 so it didn’t affect me but it quickly turned physically.
lockdown was the worst time of my life. i would hide in my room. i was so scared to go downstairs that i wouldn’t eat. i fell into depression, distanced myself from my friends i closed myself off completely. and when we restrictions were lifted my uncle came to visit and i broke down and told him everything.
since then my relationship with my mother has been non-existent. she blames me for having to marry my step dad, ruining her relationship with her family all those kinds of things.
i thought that i’d be stuck in that house forever. that id never get out. but i have. it was she’d, not easy and there’s still days that are really hard. im estranged from my mother now.
i still talk to my little sisters and my mums side of the family but not her.
all i ever wanted to do was leave. to escape the abuse and be able to live a life with no fear.
so please, please, please help this girl and her little brother. even donating a little can help so much and it can make her realise she is NOT alone.
this was very personal to share but i’m starting to tell myself that it’s okay to share things because there’s people around you who could be suffering too and you have no idea.
so if there’s anyone who’s dealing with similar situations please know that you are not alone. my inbox is always open or if you just want to talk one on one you can dm me.
i love all of you and i really hope this girl gets the help she needs.
love nim.
#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nims speaks!#sturniolo triplets#twitchmattenthusiast#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo streams#sturniolo series#olivia rodrigo#louis partridge#marvel#dc comics#taylor swift#university#elections#debates#tw abuse#emotional#help
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
On The Run
Request: ''I had a bad dream'' with Steve Rogers. - @fangirllife98
Summary: After the incidents from Civil War, you and Steve are on the run together.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader / Nomad!Steve x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warning: Nothing triggering, I think? I suck at warnings. There isn't any physical description for the reader.
Notes at the end.
+ This is not proofread, I apologize in advance for all the mistakes you're about to see.
Steve Rogers had been your friend since he had come out of the ice. You used to work for SHIELD but you were neither an agent or an Avenger, you worked in the medical field and you had been hired to monitor Steve’s health until he woke up and after. You spent a lot of time with him and quickly became close friends. You both have very similar personalities and it made it very easy to get along. He could spend hours talking to you about his life from before and he could listen to you for hours as you tried to explain to him everything that was new and different.
He loved that you weren’t an agent or an Avenger, it allowed him to have his own little escape from that part of his life whenever it got to be too much. You were, and still are, one of his best friends and he trusts you with his life.
When he decided to go look for Bucky, he wanted you to come with him. In case Bucky needed medical help, you were the only person he’d trust around his childhood best friend. Of course, you went with him. You had listened to Steve tell you hundreds of stories about the trouble he’d get into with his friend, Bucky was too important for him to refuse to go look for him with Steve.
You hadn’t expected to become fugitives of the law, yet here you are a year later; running and hiding with Captain America.
Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda so that he could heal and understand what exactly happened to him, when he came back the feud between him and Tony was far from being over and since he went against the Sokovia Accords, he found himself on the other side of the law and since you had helped him, you were considered an accomplice and were on the ‘’wanted’’ list next to Steve’s name. Tony could have gotten them out of it but when Steve chose Bucky over him, he decided to let him fend for himself. Steve had given you a choice; he could get you a place to live in another country where you’d be safe from the authorities or you could stay with him but that meant you would have to constantly be on the move.
You’d much rather be constantly on the move with your friend, than staying in one place in a country you didn’t know without being able to see him for who knows how long, the choice had been very simple and easy for you.
After a year, the heat had died down and it allowed you to stay in one place for longer periods of time. Steve had grown a beard and let his hair get longer, it made it harder for people to recognize him. Not a lot of people knew what you look like, but you decided to dye your hair from time to time just in case someone might recognize you.
A few days ago, you and Steve went back to New York. It’s Steve’s safe place and it’s so crowded, it makes it hard for anyone to recognize either of you. Steve had found a shady motel in a shady part of town that accepted to be paid in cash, no IDs required and no questions asked. You each had a room, a door connected them and you always left it opened just to keep an eye on each other.
It’s hard to sleep. You haven’t had a single good night of sleep since you left with Steve, you were scared that if you fell into too deep of a sleep, you wouldn’t hear if someone came for you.
Tonight is your third night in a row at this motel, you were tired of eating food from the vending machines so you decided to go get some takeouts for dinner. Steve doesn’t like when you go out on your own but it was too risky for him to go with you, that’s why you mainly ate food from vending machines. After dinner, you took showers in your respective rooms. After your shower, you put on a pair of sweats and a tank top and sat on your bed, waiting for Steve to join you to watch a movie.
‘’Come on, old man.’’ You called out towards his room.
He was taking his time and you were anxious to get the movie started.
His head poked out from his bathroom door, his hair completely drenched.
‘’That nickname wasn’t funny years ago when you used it for the first time, and it’s not funny now.’’
You laughed and pointed at your smile. ‘’Speak for yourself, I personally think it’s funny.’’
He rolled his eyes.
‘’Come on, Stevie. I’m tired.’’
Steve squinted as he looked at the alarm clock on your nightstand. ‘’It’s barely 8:30. How am I the old man here?’’
‘’You were born at the beginning of the 1900s, I was born at the end of the 1900s thus making you old.’’
‘’Well, give me 5 minutes and I’ll be right there. You can start the movie, I’ll still be able to hear it from here.’’ He told you, going back into the bathroom but leaving the door slightly opened.
You did as he said, you pressed play on the movie you had chosen earlier and sat with your back against the headboard, pillows behind you to make it more comfortable.
Five minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom and sat down next to you. He lifted his arm to let you snuggle up against his body and then laid it on your back, his hand resting on your hip.
Movie night always meant cuddle time.
Though you loved Steve with all of your heart and he loved you with all of his, the last few months had started to get rough for the both of you. You had never realized how much you were fond of hugs and human touch until you couldn’t do either. You came to a mutual understanding that, to keep your sanity, you would have cuddle time and it had sincerely helped better both of your moods.
Once the movie was over Steve turned off the TV, gave you a kiss on your forehead and went back to his room for the night. As soon as the lights were off, you fell asleep.
You were woken up a few hours later by something touching your foot above your covers. You quickly opened your eyes and relaxed when you saw Steve standing at the foot of your bed.
‘’What’s wrong?’’ Your voice was barely audible as you were still half asleep.
‘’I- I had a bad dream. Really bad. Can I stay with you?’’ He whispered.
You could hear how anxious he was and that woke you up. You grabbed the covers that were around your shoulders and lifted them up. Steve quickly walked around the bed and joined you, settling under the sheets. You waited until he was completely laid down and lowered the covers on top of both of your bodies.
‘’Are you ok?’’ You whispered.
You were laying on your side, facing him while he was laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. He turned his head and looked at you. His eyes were looking at every detail of your face, trying to burn this image of you into his brain so he’d never forget how beautiful you looked in this exact moment.
Steve’s had a crush on you since the first day he met you. At first he didn’t think too much of it, thinking it was just because you were the first woman he’d seen in over 70 years. Then, you two became really close friends and his feelings only got stronger throughout the years but he was going through a lot and he didn’t think it was fair of him to drag you into his problems so he decided to wait before telling you how he felt. He was finally gathering up the courage around the time Bucky resurfaced and before he knew it the two of you were on the run and he was terrified to confess his feelings to you and that you’d reject him. You two literally only had each other, he couldn’t risk ruining your friendship. Not when it was the only thing keeping the both of you completely sane.
You were both so oblivious, it was almost painful. Steve thought he’d ruin your friendship by telling you how he felt and you were keeping your very similar feelings to yourself because you didn’t think you were good enough for Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy. Though you tried not to let it show, you were a very insecure person and you barely felt like you were good enough to be friends with him, there’s no way he’d ever see you as girlfriend material.
‘’I don’t think I am.’’ He finally answered, whispering too.
He laid on his side to face you. It was pitch black in your room, but street lamps outside still managed to peak out from between the blinds, allowing you to see Steve’s face a little better. Whereas with his enhanced everything, Steve could see you very clearly.
‘’What do you need?’’ You asked softly.
‘’You.’’ He answered without hesitation.
You had one hand tucked under your head and you reached out to the other one, brushing your fingers against his jawline soothingly.
‘’I’m right here.’’
He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle touch on his jaw. When he opened his eyes again, he reached out over to you to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You were so close to him that you had to tilt your head back to be able to look at him while he had to look down. You moved your hand to the back of his head and played with his hair that was still a little damp from his shower earlier.
‘’Do you want to talk about your dream?’’ You offered knowing that sometimes talking about it helped him.
He shook his head no, his eyes on you and never looking away.
‘’I don’t want to talk.’’
His hand that rested at the small of your back was now moving up to cup the side of your face, using his thumb to gently stroke your cheek.
Somehow, Steve’s face felt closer than it had a few seconds ago. Your heart started racing and you were sure he could hear it. His thumb moved down, the pad of his finger brushed over your lower lip a few times. It sent shivers down your spine. Steve leaned down a little more, his thumb going back to rest on your cheek. His eyes kept flickering between your lips and your eyes. He was ready to stop at any sign of you being uncomfortable. He gently brushed his nose against yours and when you didn’t pull away, he finally kissed you.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt your cheeks heat up. Steve didn’t leave you enough time to kiss him back, as he pulled away quickly. Your eyes opened, scared to see the regret on his face but instead all you could see was how nervous he was.
‘’Is this ok?’’
You nodded as an answer, not trusting your voice to function properly. He quickly closed the gap between the two of you, this time giving you a chance to kiss him back. Both your eyes were closed, his thumb started moving on your cheek again and your hand that was in his hair slowly slid down his neck, then his chest to finally move under his arm and rest on his back. The kiss was slow, as if Steve was afraid to hurt you, but you both could feel all the emotions and feelings that you hadn’t had the courage to confess being put into this kiss. He pulled back, just enough to give you a chance to breathe. Both the kiss and how loved you felt leaving you a little breathless.
He looked at you and waited until you opened your eyes. The look in his eyes made your breath hitched in your throat. He had so much love in his eyes that you thought your heart was going to melt in your chest. He rested his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose.
‘’You.’’ He echoed his thoughts from earlier. His voice was barely audible but he was so close that you could hear him perfectly. ‘’I just need you.’’
I am a big sucker for Nomad!Steve, look at that glorious beard!
I hope this wasn't too cringey. This was my FIRST TIME writing a kissing scene, so please be kind. I know it was probably really bad, I'm sorry!
Thank you to my dear @fangirllife98 for requesting this. I hope you liked it and that it fed your little Steve hunger for the day.
[Taglist: @n3ssm0nique | @lover-of-bucky | @beingagodsucks ]
If you want to be added to a taglist; Bucky taglist, Steve taglist, Missing Piece taglist, Blood Moon taglist or just the general taglist just let me know in the comments or DM me.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female!reader#steve rogers x you#cw!steve rogers#nomad!steve#nomad!steve rogers#nomad!steve rogers x reader#nomad!steve rogers x you#nomad!steve rogers x female!reader#nomad!steve x reader#nomad!steve x you#nomad!steve x female!reader#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america x female!reader#captain america civil war#steve rogers request#400 followers celebration request#request#reader insert#mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#marvel
355 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Be Replaced: Part 1
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 2.5k
“I’m so sorry, babe… You know I want to be home more than anything, but it’s unfortunately not up to me…” your boyfriend sadly tells you through the phone.
“I know, Baek… It’s okay. It’s just one more week and then you’ll be right back home with me.” You hide the sadness you’re feeling from your voice, so he doesn’t worry about you and feel guilty for the toll his career sometimes takes.
He suddenly whines in your ear. “Why does a week feel so long all of a sudden?”
You listen as your boyfriend of three years continues to pout into the phone. Of course, you were sad that he was going to be gone longer than the two of you had originally planned, but you had learned long ago to be understanding in these types of situations. You’ve grown used to dealing with traveling delays when it came to your boyfriend’s schedule. He was an idol and he was certainly “booked and busy”, and often being pulled in eight different directions. You had learned to just go along for the ride to make it easier on him.
This time it was no different. EXO had just wrapped up another world tour, and SM had found time to schedule more appearances for them before they came home. The only upside you could find in this scenario was more exposure for the boys and more interviews for you to watch online which is exactly what you would be doing in your now open week.
“Oh! Babe, I gotta go. There’s this stylist here who has shown me some really cool design ideas, and I think we’re going to collaborate for Privé! I’ll call you later! Love you!”
Your boyfriend suddenly hangs up and you pull your phone away from your ear to look at it. A small smile finds its way on your face thanks to your boyfriend’s antics. Privé was his baby and he had been eager to find inspiration for a new line for his clothing company. Fortunately, it sounded like he had finally found some.
A week later
You pick up the throw pillow on the couch and fluff it up for the third time while you wait for your boyfriend to arrive home. It was an anxious habit you had somehow developed. Whenever Baekhyun was gone for long periods of time, you wanted him to come home to a neat and tidy apartment. It lowered his stress levels and opened up time for the two of you to be together instead of worrying about a dirty house.
You at least hoped he was coming home today. You had hardly spoken to him in the past week, assumingly because he was busy with schedules and trying to finally catch up on sleep. The last you heard; his plane was arriving at 5pm. Which was 20 minutes ago, you note as you look at the clock on the wall.
Your phone rings and you pull it out of your back pocket and check the caller ID. A smile crosses your features as you glance at the name before answering the phone.
“Hello, Oh Sehun.”
“Hey, we’re just about to leave the airport and I’m already thinking about food. Want to go get dinner?”
“My boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, is about to be home. I promise you; dinner is the last thing on my mind right now.”
Sehun makes a disgusted sound in your ear. “I definitely don’t need to hear about you and Baekhyun’s dirty sex life. A ‘no’ would’ve been fine.”
“I wasn’t…” you sigh and glance around the apartment while trying to find patience. “Whatever… No, thank you, Sehun. Please, eat something delicious for me.”
You can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “There’s a joke there… but I’ll let it slide this time. Let’s get together soon, okay?”
“Absolutely, but before you go… Baekhyun is with you, right?” you can’t help but ask.
Sehun pauses at your odd question before slowly asking, “Where else would he be?”
You sink down on the couch once you hear the question he bounces back at you. Obviously, Baekhyun would be with them. “Sorry, dumb question. I just haven’t heard from him in a while, so I wasn’t sure what his schedule was.”
“Why haven’t you heard from him? Did you guys get into a fight or something?”
Your head jerks back in confusion. It was rare for Baekhyun and you to get into an argument, and as your best friend, Sehun knew that.
“No? He was probably just too busy to call.”
Sehun snorts. “I doubt that. We had more free time than any of us expected. Horrible planning on SM’s part, but I won’t bother you with the boring details right now.”
Your brows furrow as even more confusion fills you. What did he mean they had more free time than expected, and if that was the case, why hasn’t Baekhyun called or texted you? You quietly voice your thoughts out loud and Sehun hears you.
“I mean… he was with Maya a lot, but I assume he would’ve talked to you too?”
You lean back into the couch and run the name through your head before coming up empty. “Who’s Maya?”
Rustling from Sehun’s end fills your ears before you hear the sound of a car door shutting. Chanyeol’s deep voice is heard in the background before Sehun responds.
“She’s some designer that was working with one of our stylists. She offered to help Baekhyun design some things for Privé. Didn’t he tell you?”
You hear Chanyeol ask why Sehun is talking about Maya before it must click into place who he is talking to, and he’s suddenly yelling hi to you.
From the sounds of it, the boys knew who she was, so she must be legit. Good. You were happy Baekhyun had someone to help him come up with some new designs. Hopefully, she can help him bring his visions to life, and help him design something really cool.
Sehun and you stay on the phone and talk for a while until you hear keys fumbling against your apartment door. Your heart shoots into your throat and you jump up from the couch in excitement, telling Sehun you have to go and hanging up while waiting for Baekhyun to enter. You hadn’t physically seen your boyfriend in months, and you couldn’t freaking wait to have him back in your arms.
Baekhyun pushes open the door and before he can get all the way inside, you’re running for him and throwing your arms around his neck. He lets out a noise at the impact, but his arms quickly wrap around your waist and he squeezes you tightly.
“I missed you, love.” He mumbles in your ear.
You lean back and find his lips, mumbling a quick “I missed you too” before finally kissing him. The kiss turns more passionate than you intend and Baekhyun blindly closes the apartment door with his foot before turning around and pushing you against it.
“God, I missed the way you taste.”
“Well, I’m right here, Baek, and I’m all yours.”
His eyes darken with lust as a mischievous smirk grows on his face. “Good, because we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”
---------------------------------------
A few hours later, Baekhyun and you are laying tangled up in your sheets and catching each other up on everything that had taken place the past couple of months. You told him about the boring things that happened with your work and family, and he shared with you the antics his members pulled while on tour.
When he tells you about Maya, you take in his excitement and the way he’s animatedly talking about all the ideas they were able to come up with, with a smile. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Baekhyun this excited about anything, and it was nice to see that light in his eyes again.
“I’m telling you. She. Is. A genius. I don’t know how she came up with half of her designs, but I’m so happy she offered to help me.”
The way Baekhyun speaks about her makes her seem larger than life, and almost out of this world cool, and the way his heartbeat speeds up because of how excitedly he is talking is nice. Did it bother you that he was talking so eagerly about another woman while the two of you were naked in bed? Maybe the slightest twinge of something was there, but you were more happy for him than anything else.
“I’m happy you got a chance to work together. It sounds like she helped you out a lot.” You smile up at him from where your head was resting on his chest.
“Oh, we’ll have plenty more chances.” When you stare up at him curiously, he continues. “She’s been hired to be one of EXO’s stylists.”
You pause, slightly surprised with the information. “They hired her just like that?”
“I gave her a good recommendation.” Baekhyun shrugs underneath you. “She’s already said she’s willing to keep working with me, so now we’ll have even more time together.”
You stare up at him and take in his beautiful features. When he looks down at you, his glowing face smiles and he kisses your forehead. You can see his excitement at the fact that he gets to continue working with her and you couldn’t be happier that he found someone else he can bounce his ideas off of. He could only ask your opinion so many times before your ideas became stale, and you knew next to nothing about high fashion, so she would be way more helpful than you could ever hope to be.
The next day, you join Baekhyun at a shoot he and the other EXO members had scheduled. You found it hard to believe SM couldn’t give them at least a couple of days off before making them work again, but the selfish part of you was happy because now you could see all the guys at once.
As soon as you walk in, there’s a flurry of movement as directors and lighting men work to get everything set up. You stick close to Baekhyun like usual to stay out of everyone’s way, and quickly spot the guys hanging off to the side on a couple of couches. Baekhyun and you walk hand-in-hand in their direction before a beautiful blonde intercepts you.
“Hey, Baek. I have some more designs for you to look at.” The strange girl flashes a blinding smile at him as her hand comes up to grip his arm. She pulls him in a different direction without so much as a glance at you and he immediately lets go of your hand to follow her.
You stand there stunned as you try to figure out what just happened before looking over at the pair to see them lost in their own world. Judging by the words she spoke, you assume the girl is Maya, but you couldn’t know for sure because Baekhyun didn’t introduce you. It was almost like he forgot you were even there.
You shake it off and continue your trek over to the rest of the guys who all greet you the second you’re within earshot. You see an open spot next to Sehun and immediately drop down into it, catching his attention.
“I see you met Maya.” He dryly comments.
“Did I?” You respond, using as much sarcasm as you can muster. Could you call what just happened a meeting?
Sehun glances over to make sure he was talking about the right person and looks back at you with a roll of his eyes. “They were like that the whole time abroad too. It’s like she’s fucking sticky tape.”
You look back over at Maya and take a better look at her appearance. She was gorgeous with long legs that seemed to go on for miles. She gave off European model vibes like she was putting “I’m too sexy and cool, so don’t talk to me” in the air. You feel a twinge of insecurity and immediately stamp it out. Sure, she is gorgeous, but Baekhyun loves you and you had no doubts about that.
“She looks like a model.” You comment causing Sehun to snort.
“She was a model. I guess she decided designing was more her passion.
Oh…
You spend the rest of the day hanging out with the guys or playing on your phone. You had hardly seen Baekhyun since you got here. Maybe a quick “hi” once or twice before Maya was pulling him away again, so you were beyond relieved when the crew was wrapping up for the day and Baekhyun suddenly appeared next to you.
“Hey, babe. Sorry I’ve been so busy today. You were probably bored out of your mind.” He says while he leans over the couch and hugs you from behind.
“It’s okay.” You pat his hand before standing up and walking around the couch to him. “The guys kept me plenty entertained… but I’m ready to finally be with you...”
He pulls you into his arms and gives you a tight hug that you want to stay wrapped up in forever. However, you’re pulled out of the moment when you feel someone’s hand graze your arms as they touch Baekhyun’s lower back. A throat clearing has you and Baekhyun looking behind him, and you meet the eyes of none other than Maya.
Baekhyun quickly moves over to your side and wraps an arm around your waist before turning to face the newcomer. “Hey, Maya! There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Y/N.”
Her expression is unreadable as she looks you up and down like she’s appraising you. “What do you do for the company?”
You blink a couple of times at her indifferent tone while Baekhyun gives her a weird look.
“Y/N’s my girlfriend… I told you about her on tour.”
Her face changes and you see the exact moment a mask slides into place. She gives you a fake smile while she waves away Baekhyun’s words.
“Oh, right. The girlfriend.” She lets out a light giggle that sounds completely out of place. “I guess I just had other things on my mind when you were talking about her.”
You stare at her as her and Baekhyun continue to talk and try to ignore the bad vibes you were getting from the introduction you just had with her. So many thoughts ran through your head, but you take one look at Baekhyun and decide to keep them to yourself. He looked happier and more relaxed than he has in a while, and you didn’t want anything to ruin that.
You couldn’t be happier that he has found someone to share his passion with… but a part of you was incredibly bummed out that it was no longer you.
Tagging: @gyukult @marovekian1 @making-me-blush @softforqiankun @sebootyforlife @nothingbutadeadesceane @cardtak @brie02 @jungkooksworld18 @insta1010 @suhappysuho @purple-bell
#to be replaced#baekhyun fic#baekhyun fanfic#byun baekhyun fanfic#byun baekhyun fic#baekhyun scenario#baekhyun series#byun baekhyun scenario#byun baekhyun series#baekhyun angst#baekhyun au#byun baekhyun angst#byun baekhyun au#baekhyun x reader#baekhyun x you#exo angst#exo au scenarios#exo au series#exo au#exo fanfic#exo fic#exo fic rec#exo fanfiction#exo fics#exo scenario#exo series#exo scenarios#exo x reader
380 notes
·
View notes
Text
Irresistible Danger - Part 51
Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)
Words: 3,279
Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing
ID Masterlist can be found HERE
Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Author’s Note: Holy crap, can y’all believe I dove back into writing this fic after almost two years with no updates?! I’m still shook over it haha. I will say that this fic has gone way off canon at this point (I haven’t watched the last few seasons of the show and also didn’t finish the last few issues of the comics). However, I’ve had a vision for certain characters and events for the last how many years, so I don’t plan to change them just to try and fit canon. I also now realize that while I tried to make “you” as nondescript as possible, there are physical traits and actions of her character that haven’t been as inclusive of all potential readers as I had thought when first starting the fic 5 years ago. I apologize for that, and plan to be more aware of those things with any reader characters I write in future fics. My plan is to post a chapter update every Friday from here on out, until it’s over, so fingers crossed I can accomplish that. Enjoy! :D
Cloud Nine
You surfaced from the depths of sleep slowly, rather than the more abrupt jolt to consciousness that usually started off your days. Feeling cozy and relaxed, a slight smile tipped your lips in contentment. It didn’t take long to realize that the reason for your positive mood was the large, warm body with which you were currently sharing the tiny, twin-sized bed.
Eyes blinking open, you took in the delightful sight of masculine bare skin. You were curled up against Negan’s side, cheek cushioned on his chest and both legs were wrapped around his nearest thigh. The bedsheet was pulled up over your back and ended teasingly right above his hips. One of your hands lay palm-down on his stomach, fingers twitching slightly in delight at the feel of the hard muscles beneath the soft skin. You could tell from the curve of his body that he was sitting with his back reclined against the rickety headboard. You might’ve found his positioning odd, but you were still a little hazy from sleep and so could only feel happiness at not waking up to an empty bed, like last time.
You were on cloud nine after talking things out with him last night. Being able to work through a conflict together had been major progress, and you had been proud of yourself for laying down your boundaries regarding your here-to-stay friendship with Ben, as well as standing your ground regarding the situation with Trixie and the pregnancy test. It was important that Negan learn to trust you when it came to situations such as those, and it seemed as though that message had finally gotten through to him last night.
The fact that he had even come to your room and taken the huge step of apologizing for his hasty reaction still had you a bit in shock. The evening had panned out much differently than your original plan of going to bed angry. Instead, you had gone to bed very satisfied, and then woken up next to the man who was very quickly becoming essential to your daily happiness.
He must’ve felt you shift against him, one hand coming down to rub your bare shoulder as he gave a soft, “Mornin’, doll.”
His raspy morning voice sent tingles down your spine, even as your brain fought to stay awake. It still felt way too early to be sitting up and conversing, so instead of returning the greeting, you buried closer into his side and grumbled, “What time is it?” The words were muffled against his skin, nose pressed into his chest hair as you inhaled the glorious male scent of him.
You felt him lean over towards the side table. He must’ve been checking your watch, because he replied, “‘Bout 6:50.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Language.”
“Hmph. Do you always get up so early?”
“It’s more productive than sleeping half the day away and being late to everything.”
That got more of a response, as you finally lifted your head to glare up at him for the jab. However, he didn’t notice, as he was too focused on the book held in front of him. It was then that you realized why he was sitting up in bed, a smirk crossing your face at the novel he had open and was intensely reading. You felt a spark of desire low in your belly, the sight of a sleep-tousled and naked Negan lounging in your bed while reading Harry Potter an unexpected, but welcomed, aphrodisiac.
“Thought you didn’t read ‘fucking kid books’?” you sarcastically asked, quoting back his initial description of the series.
You received only a low grunt in response, his eyes not leaving the page. You weren’t offended, since you’d probably react the same way to someone trying to interrupt a reading of Harry Potter. In fact, you were a bit jealous that he got to experience the magical world for the first time. His curiosity must’ve gotten the better of him when he saw it lying on your bedside table, and it appeared as if he had already read a small chunk of it.
He didn’t seem to notice you staring, his attention still focused on the book. In fact, he held the page a scant few inches from his face, eyes squinted into slits. The sight was a tad humorous, though you wondered how long he had been struggling to see the words.
“I thought you needed glasses to read?” you asked.
“Fuck, you always so full of questions this early in the morning, doll?”
You pinched his side hard enough to make him jump and growl out another expletive, before giving him a saccharine smile and lifting a brow expectantly when he glared down at you.
Attention finally taken off the book, he reached over and plopped it down on the side table before rubbing his eyes with both palms. “I do. Felt like it took me a fucking hour to get through that last page.”
The fact that he had continued trying to read and hadn’t easily given up, despite his struggle to see the words, told you more than anything how much he must’ve been enjoying the novel. A warm thrill settled in your chest at the thought of him taking an interest in something he usually wouldn't bother with simply because you enjoyed it.
The warm thrill morphed into more of a low heat and traveled down your body as your gaze refocused on his bare skin. Moving the hand on his stomach upward over his chest, your fingertips traced the outline of the tattoo on his left pec.
“What prompted you to get this?” you asked, curious if there was a meaning behind the skull and criss-crossed rifles.
Giving a low chuckle, he replied, “Youth and stupidity.”
Giving a huffed laugh in return, you trailed curious fingers over to the other tattoos on his arms, inquiring about each one as you went. Some had a story behind them, others not so much (you had tried not to roll your eyes when he explained that the revolver on his right forearm was the same one he had handled once and thought was ‘fucking cool as shit’). He also had a few scars on his upper body, some from before the apocalypse but most from after. You listened intently as he opened up about each one, drinking in as much personal information about the man beside you as possible.
Not wanting to stop the exploration just yet, you pushed up on your other elbow and journeyed over his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple before running your fingers delicately through the surprisingly soft beard framing his gorgeous mouth.
Capturing the questing hand in his own, he brought your fingers to his lips. The breath caught in your chest when he kissed the mostly-healed scar from the knife injury you had acquired a few weeks prior. Heart beating frantically at the gentle gesture, you smiled up at him when he released your hand and allowed it to resume exploring.
“So,” you tried for calm and casual, fingers moving up to lightly trace his ear before diving into his thick hair and mapping the streaks of salt within the pepper. “What are your plans for today?”
It took him a few seconds to answer, his eyes having fluttered closed as your nails gently massaged his scalp. You smiled at his obvious enjoyment of your touch, at how he had lowered his walls in this moment and was allowing himself to be both physically and emotionally vulnerable.
“I wish they were to stay here and enjoy this fucking delightful body of yours all day, but I have a meeting with my Saviors at eight.”
The thought of spending an entire day frolicking in bed with Negan caused a dreamy sigh to leave your lips. His eyes opened and zeroed in on your mouth at the sound, that magical tongue of his coming out to lick his bottom lip as he added, “Though, that’s still about an hour away…”
At that, he quickly rolled over so his lean body was pinning you into the mattress, his lips cutting off your squeal of surprise before it even left your throat. The hand still in his hair tightened, causing him to give a low groan and grind his hips down into yours. You tried to make a mental note of his reaction to the touch, but seeing as how there were no barriers keeping his quickly-hardening erection from pressing into your thigh, all higher levels of brain function quickly flew out of the room.
Bracing above you, he leaned down and started kissing your neck, a move guaranteed to make you melt. When his mouth descended over the curve of your breasts, you tried to lift your head to watch his downward progress but a sharp pang of discomfort at your scalp made you wince and try to jerk away, which only succeeded in making the pain even worse.
“Ow, wait!” you blurted, causing Negan to instantly freeze and look up at you in alarm.
“Doll, what-”
“You’re on my hair! Move your hand!”
Quickly realizing his mistake, Negan moved the hand that had accidentally been pinning a large chunk of your hair, and by proxy your head, to the mattress.
“Fucking hell, I’m sorry, doll,” he cursed, making as if to lift his body off you entirely.
Now wanting his faux pas to ruin the moment, you pushed his shoulders sideways and hooked a leg up over his hip before commanding, “Roll over.”
He hesitated for a moment before relenting, the two of you somehow able to switch places on the narrow, twin-sized bed without falling off. Once the semi-awkward resituating was done, he was on his back and you were straddling his hips. The move caused the sheet to fall off, exposing your entire body to his gaze. Based on the way his eyes grew hazy with lust as they took in your bared curves, not to mention his obvious erection, it was safe to say that he didn’t mind this change in position one bit.
Warm, calloused palms drifted up over your thighs, hips, and the sides of your waist, before cupping breasts that were begging for his touch. Leaning down, your already-hardened nipples pressed into his palms as you kissed him hungrily. Shifting your hips, you started rubbing forwards and backwards over the erection pressed between both your lower stomachs. You moaned into each other’s mouths at the sensation, pussy lips parting around his girth so that your wetness coated his cock, the fat head bumping against your clit with each slide.
“I think I like being in charge,” you purred.
Giving a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine, he replied, “Enjoy it while it fucking lasts.”
Planning to do just that, you reached over to pluck a condom off the side table, incredibly grateful to whatever deity helped you successfully open the foil packet and smoothly roll the latex down over him on the first try. Tossing the empty packet over the side of the bed, you wrapped slightly trembling fingers around his swollen cock and lifted your hips, lining him up with your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly slid down his length, mouth falling open on a whimper at the feel of him parting overly-sensitive flesh that was still a bit sore from the activities of the previous night. Despite Negan’s initial threat over you stealing both coconut oil from the kitchen and condoms from his room, his only “punishment” last night had been fucking you relentlessly into the mattress until you had multiple orgasms and could barely even remember your own name.
In spite of the slight burn as sore muscles again stretched around his thickness, you didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside. His cock felt so big in this position that it was almost overwhelming, but you sat up so that your hands were braced on his chest and used your thigh muscles to start a slow up and down rhythm.
His fingers reached up and pinched your nipples, causing you to clench around him. He groaned at the sensation, gaze becoming more intense when you slightly picked up the pace. It felt magnificent, but at the same time you craved more of the hard, rough friction that he had given you the night before. Body trying to find that friction on its own, your hips swiveled in a circle as you sank back down, which must’ve felt just as amazing for him as it did you, since he gave a strangled moan at the same moment his hands immobilized your hips in a bruising grip.
“Alright, doll. My turn.”
That was the only warning you got before he braced his feet against the mattress and moved up in you, hard. Falling forward onto your palms with a gasp, fingers curled into the bedsheet and hips writhed in pleasure when he repeated the move. He continued the sharp, deep thrusts, watching your face closely before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling your mouth down to his own. His tongue thrust into your mouth possessively, as if trying to claim as much of you at once as he could. The pace was brutal yet unhurried, each thrust feeling like a deliberate attack on your sanity as his movements drew fire over your skin and consumed you, body and soul.
Pressing down into him while leaning forward caused your clit to grind against his lower abdomen in the perfect way with each thrust, building up the orgasm that had previously hovered just out of reach. Breaking the kiss with a cry, you saw the expression of intense concentration on his face as he continued to move your bodies together in perfect rhythm. Breasts pressed into his chest and mouth panting at his ear, your body gave into his, letting him drive you up and over the edge, into the abyss of pleasure.
“Negan,” you moaned, muscles tightening then releasing as the orgasm washed through you. His answering grunt and curse signaled his own release, though he continued his driving rhythm through it all, wringing each drop of pleasure from your body until it collapsed limply on top of his.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you again traced over the tattoo on his chest, waiting for your heartbeat and breathing to slow back down to normal. Glancing up his body, you found him already looking back down at you, a relaxed and satisfied grin on his lips that was only witnessed behind closed doors, when the two of you were alone. His hand idly stroked over a piece of hair laying on your shoulder, the gesture making you think back to earlier when he had accidentally pinned you to the mattress, and the resulting ungraceful maneuvering to switch positions in a bed that was entirely too small for two adult bodies. A light laugh escaped you that caused Negan to raise an eyebrow in question.
“Just remembering your super smooth move from earlier,” you teased. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but it was actually a bit of a relief to know that even Mr. Harem-of-Wives, Sex-God Negan wasn’t always flawless in the sack.
“Making fun of me, doll?” he growled.
“Maybe.”
Whack. The loud crack, accompanied by the slight sting of sensation against your left asscheek, caused you to jump and look at him in wide-eyed shock.
“Did you just spank me?!” you exclaimed.
“Maybe.”
Before you could form an appropriate reply, he silenced any retort with his lips. Shallow creature that you apparently were, the move worked, and when he pulled away a long minute later, your brain conveniently forgot why you were supposed to be coming up with a retort in the first place.
Negan glanced over at the side table, where your watch sat. Also looking over, you saw that it was now almost 7:30am, which meant he had half an hour to go back to his room and become presentable for his 8am Savior meeting. You were curious what the meeting was about, but didn’t want to ruin the perfection of the morning by bringing up a potentially serious topic.
“Much as I hate to say it, doll, duty fucking calls.”
Your expression must’ve showcased more than you thought, since he gave a chuckle and said, “How about I make it up to you by finishing our fucking chess bet?”
Interest instantly piqued, you sat up on his chest and replied, “The third outing?! Can we go today?”
He looked at you consideringly, before giving a slight nod and agreeing. “We fucking could, but I won’t be free until the dinner hour.”
Much as you didn’t want to skip out on your duties, even if it was with the leader of the establishment, you also weren’t about to turn down more alone time with Negan, especially outside of the Sanctuary.
“I could meet you at the front gate at 5?” you suggested. That would give you just enough time to make sure dinner was fully prepped and almost ready to serve, since the community ate their meal from 5 to 7pm. It lessened the guilt, since you wouldn’t be completely leaving Ben and the staff short-handed.
“Works for me, doll,” he said, gently rolling you off his body and to the narrow strip of mattress free beside him.
Biting your lower lip to keep from gasping at the empty sensation when he pulled out his now-flaccid dick, you watched him rise slowly from the bed. You took possessive pleasure in viewing his naked body, thighs clenching at the sight of him stretching muscular arms up towards the ceiling with his head tipped back. The pop of his back and resulting grunt made you comment, “I think from now on we might be better off in your bed. I have no clue how we even managed to fit in mine all night.”
“Thank fucking god. If I have to spend any more nights in that fucking thing, I’ll be stiffer than a cock in a brothel.”
Rolling your eyes at his that’s-so-Negan one-liner, you pulled the sheet up over your chest and settled in to watch him get dressed. You felt a bit like a voyeur when he removed the condom, tied off the end, and tossed it into the little garbage can. You felt a lot like a voyeur when he leaned down to pick up his boxer briefs and the sight of his bent-over ass almost made you whimper out loud.
“You sure you can’t skip the meeting and stay here?” The words left your lips before your brain could even stop them.
Turning to look at you, the desire must have been written all over your face because that muscle in his jaw ticked and he ran a hand down over his beard in obvious frustration. You swore he started to take a step back towards the bed, but he caught himself and instead returned to the task of getting dressed.
When he was done putting on the navy tee and dark grey pants, complete with his signature black boots, he did finally come back over to the bed. Leaning down, he cupped a warm hand possessively around the side of your neck and placed a heated kiss on your lips before slightly pulling back and saying in that sinful, husky voice, “5 o’clock, doll. You better be ready for me.”
With that, he straightened, crossed the room, and let himself out. As the door clicked softly shut behind him, you replied with a dazed, “Yes, sir.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
#negan#negan fanfiction#negan smut#negan fanfic#negan fanfics#irresistible danger#ash writes#twd#the walking dead#negan x reader#negan x you#slow burn#twd negan#the walking dead negan
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
hospitals make miracles - r.donovan
hi guys ! this is my first fic and its not good whatsoever but figured id give it a shot haha, hope you enjoy !
wc: 1,623
warnings: minor swearing, mentions of injuries
-
you were a senior at andover high school on a roadie up to your annual trip in duluth. youve been taking this trip since your freshman year as you were one of the first players to ever make varsity as a freshman. that being said, this was your year, this was the year you had to show out. being named captain this season not only did you have to step up and lead the team, but you also had to focus on your game as it was your year to get scouted. you’d been looked at by minnesota-duluth, boston college, and minnesota, but all you wanted was to go to wisconsin, and this was your year to make it happen.
“y/n/n, are you ready to see all the hot duluth boys this weekend? i heard their varsity team plays at the same time of us and they have the wisco hot shot ryder donovan.” lilly said bouncing up and down in the seat next to you. you and lilly had been best friends ever since you met eachother at little wild camp 12 years ago. “y/n are you even listening”, “oh yeah sorry lil, just thinking about this weekend, did you know wisconsin scouts are gonna be there, i dont know if i can do this lil, i cant mess up, my future relies on this weekend” you exclaimed, trying not to freak out. “y/n/n you’ll be great i promise, but we should get some rest, weve still got 1.5 hours left and we’ve got a big game against east tonight.” you nod your head in agreement, dozing off into a deep sleep.
after an hour and a half of driving you arrive at the rink, getting up you fix your hair and adjust your sweats and parka and get ready to go grab your bag. after grabbing your bag, you start to head into the rink when you hear lil and ken start screaming, turning your head you see what all the fuss is about. and there he is. standing right before your eyes. ryder donovan. you’ve seen him in pictures as you followed him and some of his friends on instagram, but wow he was even prettier in person.
stumbling into the rink you make your way into the locker room gearing up to take the ice for warmups at duluth heritage. stepping onto the ice you complete your typical warmup of one-timers, slaps, and some stretching before noticing two big things in the stands. wisconsins top scout, and wisconsins top recruit, ryder. you didnt like it, but you just couldnt take your eyes off him.
the game begins and you take the ice playing your heart out making a clean goal through the five hole and racking in two more assists. after taking the ice to begin the last 20 mins of play, you get ready to take the faceoff for the third period. you win the faceoff clean and go to prepare to set yourself up to take a one-timer on the net. thats when tragedy strikes, when bringing your stick back to recieve the one-timer, before you know it you’re slammed into the boards on a cross check. tumbling down you hear a snap, a snap so loud that you watch the scout and ryder jump to their feet. as the athletic trainer scrambles to try and get you off the ice, you’re taken off the ice on a stretcher as you cant seem to put any weight on your right leg.
on the way to the hospital all you can think is why me, why now, why today. knowing it was probably your acl, you knew you were done for the season, that was it, it was over. scrolling through your twitter you saw your team won 5-2, which put your team in an excellent spot to start the season.
you arrived at the hospital and settled into your bed when a quite familiar but unfamiliar face walked into your toom. left speechless you see the 6’3 brunette standing in your doorway. “hey im ryder, i know you probably dont know me but i know you, you’re all the wisconsin scout has talked about for the past year and as im committed there i knew i had to see what the girls team is gonna have to offer and let me tell you, you looked incredible out there” ryder says shakily, messing with his fingers. you thank ryder and invite him into your room to sit on the chair. “trust me ryder i know you, youre all the girls have talked about after finding out that we played east this season, and youre committed to my dream school so theres that too, but theres no way the wisconsin scout wants anything to do with me, especially now that i have a double torn acl” you said, pointing down at your stitched up and wrapped knee, trying not to cry.
the next day, lil picked you up to bring you back to your hotel. on the car ride there you told her about everything that happened last night but when telling her you felt you sounded crazy, theres no way that thee ryder donovan went to visit YOU at the hospital and there’s absolutely no way that the wisconsin scout actually liked you. that was until you saw the instagram notification pop up on your screen... rydesdono would like to send you a message. you were shocked, theres no way that actually happened, but you opened the dm anyways to see what there was to say.
-
ryder donovan:
hey cutie, i never got your number last night and i was hoping we could catch up a little bit sometime if you feel up to it, i know with your knee it might not be easy, but i figured i would ask:)
you sat speechless. theres no way last night absolutely happened and there was absolutely no way he just called you “cutie”, but of course youre gonna meet up with ryder, no matter how much work it is
-
you:
hey rydes! id love to meet up with you again ! heres my number 952-***-****
-
thinking he might not actually text you because thats what hockey boys do, but sure enough you were proved wrong
-
maybe: ryder
hey y/n its ryder, pick you up at 6?
you:
absolutely, cant promise it’ll be easy with my knee and all, but i’ll make it work:))
rydes:
how about i pick us up food and bring it back to your hotel room, that way you can still have dinner with me but you can rest your knee at the same time;)
you:
that sounds great, ill make sure to leave the door unlocked
-
speechless you instantly call lilly and tell her everything, who freaks out the second you mention his name. as much as she doesnt believe it, you dont either. how is it that getting injured led you to a hot shot hockey player that is committed to the same school you are (yep thats right, wisco gave you an offer!!), one who’s actually genuine and nice AND insanely attractive. its mind blowing, but knowing theres no way this goes anywhere, as youd have to take the 2 hour drive back to andover in two days and probably wouldnt see ryder again until next year when you were both at wisconsin.
about an hour and a half later you hear two quiet knocks at your door, yelling “come in” at the sound. from your bed you see the cute hockey player who walks in from the doorway carrying the bag of food he got from grandmas, which happened to be your favorite restaurant in duluth. ryder sets the food on the table getting your food prepared so you didnt have to get up. he brings your food over to you and you invite him to sit next to you on your bed. you turned on your tv to the umd vs minnesota game as you rest your head on ryder who had just put his arm around you after you both finished eating. after talking for hours, that really felt like 10 mins, ryder decided that he should probably get back home and even if you didnt want him to go, you agreed.
for weeks after that you and ryder talked and talked for hours on end nonstop whether it was through snapchat, messages, or facetime. even though you only lived two hours apart, your schedules clashed too much to ever be able to meet up with eachother again. eventually after a year later you had completed your physical therapy and were ready to start your first year as a badger, but most importantly you were eager for ryder to get into town so you could hug the gorgeous brunette again.
when arriving at labahn, you were preparing yourself for the first day of practice and your next meet up with ryder, as the boys were using labahn as well as kohl center was undergoing some remodeling. you pull your bag out of your grand cherokee when you saw the brunette, and just like the first time you saw him your heart stopped. dropping your bag you ran in a dead sprint to see him as he dropped his bag and ran towards you wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if its been decades since youve last seen him as he held you for what felt like forever, when ryder whispered into your ear, “so hospitals really do make miracles happen” as he picked you up to kiss you before making your way into practice, knowing that without your injury you may have never found eachother the way you did.
#ryder donovan#ryder donovan fluff#nhl#vegas golden knights#wisco hockey#nhl imagine#ryder donovan imagine#rydesdono#college hockey
79 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could I get one for #7 please
Prompt #7 - “What were you thinking?”
He’d found him half-dead, overdosing on heroin, on their living room floor. Doctors were even telling him he was fortunate to have returned home at the time he did, because 10 minutes more and John might have been dead without a chance of recovery.
And then Paul would have been left all alone.
All alone, with no partner to hold him close at night; or make him coffee in the morning; or get drunk with on Friday evenings. Certainly no partner to sing and write with, at least not in the way he did with John. And of course no one to kiss him so sensationally in the same manner as John.
But John had survived, fortunately. Still, Paul was fuming with him.
* * *
“You can see him now, he’s awake.” The doctor had told him.
“That’s great, thank you.” Paul replied solemnly. As he stood up, the doctor continued.
“I should probably warn you however, that he won’t be awake for long.” “What…”
���He’ll be fine, given a few days’ time. But for now, he’s only dipping in and out of consciousness – mostly due to the drugs he’s on – but if you’d like to go and see him now, you are free to do so.”
“Okay, thank you. Again. Thanks.”
He wasn’t sure how he should react to seeing John – with glee, maybe? But he was so mad at him. With resentment? But that seemed so cruel.
* * *
When he entered the room, John was awake – but he looked weak. “Paul?” he called out like a helpless child.
“I’m here baby.” He replied assuredly as he took a seat by his partners hospital bed, “How’re you feeling?”
“Not great.”
“Well, overdosing will do that to you.”
John hadn’t expected Paul to bring that up so quickly, even if he did so with an air of light-heartedness, but he was incapable of protesting right now with any words other than a sincerely uttered, “Im sorry…Paul…Im sorry…”
“It’s okay,” his better half responded, giving his knee an affectionate rub. “You’re fine, just get some rest.” John nodded his head in an attempted response, though sleep swiftly overtook him.
* * *
Paul had drifted off to sleep some time too – after all, he hadn’t slept a wink that night he had found John in their home scarcely breathing. He was still terrified to his core, but he was able to get some rest with the knowledge that at least he had survived, though the reminder that there could always be a next time (and a time where John wouldn’t survive) still lingered in his mind.
He was awoken by the sound of the flush of a toilet; upon opening his eyes he saw an empty bed and confusedly called out “John?”
“In here!” an arid voice sounded from the bathroom. Making his way closer to John, Paul asked concernedly, “Are you okay?”
“Well I did just throw up two years’ worth of hangovers” he grumbled in response.
“Here baby, have some water.” He said grasping the glass a nurse had left for them on the table.
“Thank you…”
Noticing John was getting back into his hospital cot, Paul said tenderly, “Let me help you there love.”
John protested grumpily with, “I’m fine Macca,” though he didn’t physically push him away. Paul took a seat again, right besides John, then enquired, “When did you get up?”
“’Bout 20 minutes ago.”
“I must’ve been deep in sleep then.”
“Did you not get any sleep the night before love?” Paul shook his head signalling ‘no’ in response.
“How could I?” he then added, “I thought you might be dead!”
John grumbled “Sorry…” like an insincere teenager to his mum.
With a voice fuelled by agitation, pity and concern, Paul continued, “John, I don’t need sorry. I need to know why you did it – I mean what were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re not six, John. You had to be thinking something!”
“Look im sorry Macca! But could ye just drop it?” he retorted embarrassedly. Paul wasn’t prepared to drop the subject completely, because he needed answers - he demanded answers! But he wasn’t without sympathy, and thus redacted his aggression.
“Who’d ye get the heroin from then?” “Yer not gonna call the police are ye?” John whined. “Christ John, im not that bloody un-hip.” He joked, lifting the mood slightly, “But I do have to know.”
“Listen Paulie, im not gonna do it aga-“
“John!” Paul interrupted sternly, then more gently he croaked out, “Please.”
Still, John didn’t respond being too overwhelmed with shame. “Please John. I almost lost ye today, and I don’t what id do without you,” Then close to tears, he tenderly added, “you’re all ive got.”
“That’s not true…”
“But it is; and we can’t pretend it’s not.” He grasped Johns hand tighter.
And with that John finally reluctantly choked out, “I- I got it from some kid in town.”
“Do I know him?” “He was at our housewarming party, with all the neighbours and that.”
“I just don’t understand how you got yourself back into all this crap again.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to. But some kid at that party came up to me and started telling about all this heroin shit again. And I told him im straight now, and that the only drugs I do are the occasional spliff and drink, but he just insisted on leaving his number.
And I…and I just feel like ive been goin’ mad outta me mind recently, and I just wanted some relief, y’know.”
“Christ Johnny…” Paul muttered, “Ye should’ve told me you were feeling that way.”
John rapidly uttered out with genuine fear, “Are- Are you gonna leave me?”
“Course not baby. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, now could I? Yer all ive got, remember?” “Im really sorry Paul-”
“That’s okay. Really! We’re gonna get through this love; we’ll get you the help you need, and…and I think this time its gonna work. I know last time the therapy didn’t work out so well for you, but…but this time, were gonna find something that works, so that next time yer feeling down or scared or something, you can come to me and you weren’t do anything mad like this again.”
“I don’t know if that’s even possible for me…”
But Paul interrupted, and then emphatically stated, “Johnny, I love you. And im going to find you something that works.”
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
can i rant real quick? if not feel free to just ignore and clear it out!!
i live with my parents, my grandmother, my uncle and my two sisters (i’m the middle child). now with this big family we’re lucky enough to have a big enough house to accommodate all of us pretty comfortably… but i have no room.
we have a finished basement where my uncle stays
a main floor with a kitchen, dining room, a sitting room near the garage, a sunroom, half bath/laundry, and a bedroom type room in the back this is where my grandmother stays
a second floor where the master bedroom, a full bathroom, a small room which we call the “computer room”, and two bedrooms where my older and little sisters stay (i have to come back to those in a minute).
we have a third floor with two bedrooms as well (which i will also come back to).
now i’m not mentioning all this to flex (so sorry if it seems that way but i promise it’s not!) but instead to emphasize how much space we have and yet i STILL don’t have a room.
so my little sister and i shared a room for a while which was fine until 2017 when my grandmother had a heart attack. now before this heart attack my gran slept in a room on the third floor and after the attack we decided she should move down to the main floor so she can easily access the kitchen, bathroom,etc. once we decided that my sisters and i were continuously promised that i would take my older sisters old room and my older sister would move to the third floor so me and my little sis wouldn’t have to share anymore.
anyways after my gran moved downstairs, more and more often i would go down to the main floor where she is to watch her while she sleeps (not on some weird shit but to make sure she’s well and didn’t need anything when no one else would do it). over time i was basically kicked out of my own (well shared i guess) room, everyday my little sis would trash it and i’d have to clean it because it was “our” room (even though i was sleeping on the couch). so throughout this time i’d been sleeping on a couch in the sunroom and during the pandemic my dad took the room on the third floor my older sister was supposed to go into so i could have my own room. he’s using it as his office since he has to work from home BUT here’s the thing, there’s TWO room’s up there and one of them is already his designated “man cave”. so now technically speaking my dad occupies 3 rooms in our house the master, his office (the room that’s supposed to go to my sister), and his man cave. i don’t understand why he can’t make his man cave his office because HE’S NEVER IN THE MAN CAVE ANYWAY. CURRENTLY IT IS LITTERALLY JUST A STORAGE ROOM PRETTY MUCH.
also during the pandemic i got covid and since i couldn’t be around my gran instead of helping me get a room they got me an air matress (from a corner store and it’s broken and deflates every night to which i have to re inflate it in the middle of the night). and now i sleep on the air mattress in the sitting room near the garage. i have no doors and everyone has to pass through there to enter and leave the house. i have absolutely no privacy except in the bathroom. i’m basically living like a bum in my own home and it just stresses me out a bit you know? i would like to be able to cry without having to silence myself in fear of my gran waking up and hearing me.
my dad said he would move back into his man cave whenever we (me and my older sis) wanted and we told him to but it was always excuse after excuse. i got the excuse of “it’s not clean enough” every damn time so a few weeks ago i cleaned it myself because no one else was making a move to because everyone else has some form of their own space. and my older sister got mad at me “now they’re definitely not going to move in there” even though i cleaned out the room (enough because my gran, mom, and dad are kind of hoarders of useless things) for him to move his desks and equipment in there. i just don’t get why she’s getting mad?
anyways i’ve cleaned out his man cave and he STILL hasn’t moved back in there. even when he does i have to clean out the room he used as his office because it was never fully cleaned from when my gran was in there and my mom, dad, and sisters refuse to do it (my gran can’t be cause she’s oxygen bound and my uncle really isn’t involved but neither are actively trying to convince someone to help me either)
i just want my own space but everyone in the house is making me seem like the bad guy for wanting a space where i can exist as me. am i being selfish? ungrateful? i feel like even though this room switch is for both of us (my older sister and i) it’s being pushed all on me for what? i’m only 14 and my older sister is 23 (don’t bash her for living here she got out of a really toxic relationship and is doing her best to build herself back up) but i feel like it can’t all just be pushed on me you know?
would it be rude of me to ask for your input? also sorry for the long read if you did end up reading this!
p.s my little sister doesn’t even sleep in the room she stole from me… she sleeps with my older sister because she’s “scared of the dark” but i don’t want to sleep in there again because she’s trashed the place and i’ve refused to clean it up so the bed is disgusting. also i can’t fit the air matress in my dad’s man cave (and he doesn’t want me in there) so that’s also why i’m not in those two rooms
While I’m sure your sister is trying to recover from a toxic relationship, and that’s really important for her healing process, she’s 23 years old. She lives at home, and she’s 23. And YOU are her baby sister. As a sister myself, of 5 count them FIVE little sisters, id bust my fucking ass to make sure they were okay.
And you sleeping on a shitty air mattress, in no room, with no help, and no one listening to you isn’t okay. You’re 14. And you want your own space, and that’s perfectly acceptable. I dunno what your family is like or even your living situation, but from this alone I think I’m allowed to say they [your family] needs to do better and start holding each other accountable for shit.
Your dad doesn’t need 3 fucking rooms. Your sister shouldn’t get mad because YOU are cleaning out the rooms to find space for yourself. Your grandma is old, I kind of just let old people be old. Your younger sister needs to start cleaning up after herself. She’s not going to learn anything by being babies. And your fucking father needs to grow the hell up. He doesn’t need 3 rooms to spread all his shit out. You haven’t said anything about your mom? But maybe you can sit down with her and tell her how you’re feeling.
While parents are legally required to meet the physical needs of a child, [food,water,clothes,a roof] more often then not, they overlook the emotional needs that children require. Gen X parents and even millennial parents tend to sweep “feelings” under the rug, but it’s still important to bring it up. You should have your own space too. Ya know?
And don’t worry about the long rant. That’s what I’m here for.
Hopefully I’ve helped in some way 💞
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 5
Title: “I may just take your breath away”
Relationship: Jemily
Summary:
Emily surprises JJ at her soccer game.
Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.
Read it on AO3
Tumblr: Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue
Emily walked out of her Philosophy class, waving goodbye to Spencer Reid, who had back-to-back classes that afternoon. He walked away, dodging the crowds of students milling about on his way to his Physics class.
Things had calmed down in the weeks after midterm season, giving Emily a bit more free time to relax into a rhythm during her second year at college.
In her bag was a small bag of cookies that she had baked last night, wrapped up in carefully and tucked away. She was making her way through the quad, setting her sights on the soccer field. Emily checked her phone for the time: it was 2:25 PM and JJ’s soccer game should be almost done. She knew she was going to miss most of the game, but if she hurried she would catch the tail end.
That morning, Emily had looked up the games time on the varsity sports website, and triple checked that she’d be able to make it.
Dodging an enthusiastic skateboarder who was using the ramp down to the field as his own personal skate park, Emily hurried towards the bleachers, climbing onto the second row near the away team’s goal.
Emily squinted towards the field, setting down onto the ice cold metal bleacher seat and regretting her choice of a plaid skirt and fishnet stockings. A familiar blonde ponytail caught her eye and her heart jumped at the sight of her tackling another girl, freeing the ball and turning Emily’s way, barrelling down the field.
She had the ball! JJ pulled ahead, dodging the advances of the other team before kicking it to her teammate, who confidently circled around past the defence.
Emily’s heart was in her throat. She had never particularly cared about sports, but with her time in Italy, football (or soccer as she reminded herself to refer to it as) was something Emily could confidently say she understood enough to have a conversation about. She thanked her lucky stars that the first jock Emily had a crush on played a sport she at least knew the rules of.
JJ ran into centre field, and her teammate passed the ball to her, JJ kicked it right into the net, sneaking right past the goalie’s outstretched fingertips.
Goal!
The crowd cheered, Emily joined in and clapped as JJ’s teammates swarmed her, jumping and hugging her in a mess of celebratory bodies.
Emily looked around, while the crowd was spotty, there was still a fairly good turn out. Most of them seemed to be family members, though there were certainly groups of students, wearing their school colours and the logo emblazoned across their chests.
Emily peered at the scoreboard, it was 4–2, as JJ just scored a tie breaking goal with ten minutes left in the second half. They reset, and JJ switched out with another, taller girl who high fived her as she walked onto the pitch.
JJ sat on the bench with elbows on her knees and her feet planted firmly on the ground in her running shoes. She gulped some water as her eyes remained fixed on the action as the ref blew the whistle, and the game continued.
Without JJ to watch, Emily’s eyes roamed across the field, taking in the action without that much interest. She hoped that their team won, obviously, because that would make JJ happy, but she had no personal investment into their college’s athletic standing.
Emily knew that while her class had cut into most of the game, she would be able to linger around and hopefully walk back to residence with JJ. She had cookies to give her.
Now, the cookies were just an excuse to hang out with her. Or a bribe. Probably a bribe. Well, JJ had said, back when they studied together almost two weeks ago, that she wanted more cookies. As she had enough free time to walk to the nearby grocery store to pick up the dough, Emily was furiously trying to bake the best cookies she’d ever made. She had briefly considered making them from scratch, but the pressure of it all made her choose the prepackaged dough.
Emily actually didn’t spend more time eating the dough than baking, this time, because she wanted them to be perfect for JJ.
She had been tempted to invite her to bake with her, but despite JJ’s initial request for Emily to tutor her, JJ had not really followed up. In fact, Emily hadn’t seen much of the girl at all. The anxious part of her brain told her that JJ was avoiding her, but Emily, for the life of her, could not figure out why. Every time that she ran into JJ, the blonde seemed anxious to leave.
The clock counted down, five, four, three, two, one. The buzzer sounded. The other team hadn’t managed to score another goal, so their team had won!
The crowd cheered in delight at the victory. JJ and her team jumped together, piling on top of one another in a group hug.
While the other audience members packed up their bags and blankets, chatting as they filed out of the bleachers, Emily remained, waiting for JJ.
She watched as JJ removed her cleats, shin pads and long socks, swapping them instead for a pair of boots. She zipped up her windbreaker on top of her shirt and followed her teammates as they grabbed their bags and made their move to go home.
It was now or never.
“JJ, hi!” Emily called out, waving at her from the side of the bleachers.
JJ caught her eye, then said something to her teammates, who waited for her on the edge of the field.
“Great game!” Emily said, “at least what I saw of it.”
“Emily!” JJ said, smiling at her.
“I, uh-” Emily rifled through her bag. “The cookies you liked. I made some last night and thought that you may want some.”
JJ’s eyes widened as she took them.
“Thank you, Emily,” she stated, smiling quickly. “That’s very nice of you, I hope you didn’t go out of your way for me.”
“Oh it was no problem,” Emily said, trying to keep her voice calm, “Derek practically begs me to and well, you know, it’s nice to do something relaxing during midterms.”
JJ nodded, then turned to look at her teammates, who were beckoning for her.
“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” Emily said, “Did you need any more help with your French?”
Something strange passed across JJ’s face, first she looked happy, excited, but then nervous she looked away from Emily.
JJ hadn’t texted her. Emily had given her number to her last Wednesday, and had received radio silence ever since.
“Uh, maybe. I’ll text you if I need any help,” JJ said, “I’m actually having a bit of trouble writing a presentation.”
A spark of hope ignited in Emily’s chest. Just as she was going to reply, she heard someone approaching them from the bleachers, clamouring down the steps from behind.
“JJ!” Penelope Penelope exclaimed, “And Emily! I didn’t know you were here! You could have sat with me!”
She was dressed in a long purple peacoat and had her bright blonde hair tied up in space buns. She had a small blanket folded up in her arms that she was likely using to sit on the cold bleachers.
“I didn’t see you,” Emily says honestly.
“Hey Pen,” JJ said, turning to her roommate, “No Spence today?”
“He has physics,” Penelope and Emily responded in unison, before laughing.
“We just had Philosophy together,” Emily explained. “He had to run to his next class.”
“Wait that reminds me,” Penelope exclaims, “Emily you must come with us to trivia tonight! We need six people for our team and I don’t wanna get stuck with some randos like last time.”
Emily looked over at JJ quickly to gauge her reaction. Trivia sounded really fun, and the excuse for spending time with JJ sounded even better.
“You could bring your friend Derek,” JJ replied, not balking at the idea of Emily’s presence. “Spence hasn’t stopped talking about him since the party.”
Emily felt herself breathe an internal sigh of relief. JJ wasn’t avoiding her after all. And maybe even wanted to spend time with her.
“Oh he really is a beautiful sight, that Derek Morgan,” Penelope just about purrs in response.
Emily can not help but laugh.
“That makes, what, five?” Penelope counted on her fingers, “Jennifer, do we have another friend?”
JJ frowned, shook her head, which made Penelope laugh.
Emily thought for a second, thinking about who in her circle would enjoy trivia. Aaron. Of course.
“I think I could talk someone into it,” she said.
“It’s a date!” Penelope exclaimed. “Now off to the locker room with you Jennifer! You stink!”
She gently pushed JJ towards her teammates and JJ laughed before waving goodbye and heading towards the gym. Penelope looped her arm through Emily’s and had already begun to explain the details of the trivia night.
From what Emily gathered, it was at the bar right off campus, and luckily for them, allows underage students in on Monday nights to play trivia, and the bartenders didn’t really check IDs at the bar so they could usually get served if they didn’t get too wild. There were prizes and Penelope was convinced that with Reid, they had a good shot at winning, depending on the topics of course.
Emily and Penelope walked back to their building, finally exchanging numbers and the promise to meet in the hall no later than seven that night.
As soon as Emily was in her room she found herself grinning. She did a small dance in her room in excitement for the evening before pulling out her phone to tell Derek and Aaron that they had plans for the evening.
#criminal minds#cm#criminal minds tv#jemily#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#emily prentiss x jennifer jareau#gravelyhumerus cm college au#fanfiction#fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#college/university au#my post#some FLUFF / a set up for the next chapter#garcia is making things happen#its still slow burn tho#emily just panic baked some cookies idk what to say#also FINALLy adding more of the team to this fic lol the cast is just... so large#please message me any trivia u know that you would like to see included in the next chapter i am still taking ideas#ALSO: i got a comment asking about moreid and would like to say on the record that it does not happen due to the age gap im sorry#its really hard to have boy genius and him being old enough for it not to be weird sorry
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chemical warfare used to teach coworker manners... #Pettyrevenge
A few years ago I used to work as active duty in the USAF in the Security Forces squadron. Basically military police. A typical workday would have me spend 12 hours checking ID's at the front gate, patrolling the base or being put in a non-moving post in the middle of nowhere in which you would spend most of the time contemplating your life choices. The last one is where our story takes place.
At the time, we were combining two different work groups (night and day shift) to build up our manpower for the week because we were expecting some important people to fly into our base. Also, all this was happening in the middle of January, so the average temp outside was around "Too F@#$ing Cold".
I was tasked with being posted on the flight line in a truck with two other airmen. One of the guys I was partnering up with, we'll call him Nate, was from my group so I already knew him. The other guy, we'll call him Jimmy, was from the other group. I didn't know much about the guy so I asked around about him.
The best way to describe him in one word would be "cornhusker". Jimmy was what you would call a good-old Midwestern boy. A good guy honestly and a decent coworker. However, he had this one particular quirk that could quickly get on your nerves. Jimmy was well known for farting and never apologizing for it! I would have understood if he had some kind of medical stomach issue or digestion problems. But nope, Jimmy was healthy as a horse and just loved ripping ass at his fullest potential.
Oh, and his justification for never apologizing for it was also priceless. Jimmy was well known for saying "What?! Farting is as natural as breathing. You want me to apologies for breathing too!?" every time. Hearing this kind of rubbed me the wrong way and so was Nate, so I decided to prepare in case he tried to pull this stunt with us. I told Nate what I had planed and his reaction said it all.
Nate: Dear God, I hope it wont have to come to this.
Me: It'll hurt me more than it will hurt him.
On the first day of us working together, it didn't take long before s!#t started to go down. Nate and Jimmy were sitting up front in the truck and I was sitting in the back seat. After about two hours of just us talking and trying to stay warm, Jimmy did exactly what we were warned he would do. Jimmy not only let out a fart that made me question if he was medically clear to serve our country, he didn't apologies or even roll down his window. This of course lead to us reacting appropriately.
Nate (while rolling down his window): Dude what the hell!! Are you dying?!
Me (while trying to cover my face because I cant roll down my window): Bro you can apologies, or at the very least commit Seppuku for this dishonor!
And of course Jimmy gave his trademark excuse.
Jimmy: What?! Farting is as natural as breathing. You want me to apologies for breathing too!?
Me: Dishonor on you, your family and your cow!
This ticked me off and so I decided to immediately take action and initiated plan F. Without Jimmy seeing, I took out a box of pure high fiber breakfast protein bars from my gear bag that I got from the commissary right before work. I don't remember how many their were in the box, 6 or 8, I just know that I ate them all in like 20 min. 1 hour later I began to feel the inner demons working their way though my intestines, so I start a conversation with Nate to give him the codeword to let him know that things were about to get bad.
Me: Yo dude, any plans this brake?
Nate: No not really, you?
Me: I was thinking about re-watching the Last Airbender movie.
Once Nate herd our code word "Airbender", and the fact that I mentioned that movie, he knew it was time to leave. Nate then excused himself to go read some "important" government emails (YouTube) in the building we were closest to and that he would be gone for a bit.
Side Note: Our post had a specific rule we had to follow. Their had to be two people at the truck at all times. One person can leave for however long to go to the bathroom, smoke, get food or whatever. But until that one person comes back, nobody else can leave. Now back to the story
At this point, Nate had been gone for about 5 min, Jimmy was chillin in the front seat and I was in the back getting ready to exercise the horror that raged inside me. I gave myself my last rights and one min later it happened. I let out the most aggressive and physically demanding fart you could ever expect a 160 lbs. Filipino to be able to do. Jimmy's initial reaction was surprisingly positive.
Jimmy: Damn boy, where I'm from we call that a tree bender! HA!
But then, 3 Seconds later, the smell hit. Jimmy began to gag and franticly started to roll down his window and stick his head out the truck.
Jimmy: Good Lord what died and decided to haunt your ass!!??
I just laughed a little and started to text Nate everything that was happening. After about another min the smell began to dissipate and Jimmy brings his head back in from the freezing cold. Once Jimmy was done rolling up this window, I once again let loose another and even bigger fart. Pretty sure I made the truck vibrate. And once again the smell forced Jimmy's head out the truck.
Jimmy: Ok seriously, what the hell?!
At that moment I just decided to just sit back and let karma take the wheel and gave back to him his famous catchphrase.
Me: What?! Farting is as natural as breathing. You want me to apologies for breathing too!?
This started a vicious cycle that lasted over half an hour. Every time the smell would begin to die down and Jimmy thought it was safe enough to stop sticking his head out the window, my butt would just lion roar again and reclaim the land. It got to the point that Jimmy just had enough and decided to just get out the truck.
Jimmy (While stepping out of the truck): Nope! That's it! Cant handle it! My eyes are burning! Your messed up cuz this isn't natural!
Me (In a stereotypical Boston accent): Hey, you mind! I'm breathing back here! One hundred percent O'natural!
Jimmy got out and because of the rule we had to follow he couldn't leave the area or go inside the closest building with Nate. All Jimmy could do was stand outside the truck in the cold until my lower intestines decided it was done, which was about another 2.5 hours. And don't worry, we all had some decent cold weather gear.
When it was all said and done, we all worked the rest of the night and week without any more incidences. I don't know if he went back to his old ways when he went back to night shift, I just know he didn't pull anymore stunts like that with us. Because of that, I like to think he learned his lesson.
I hope you all enjoyed reading this and if you know what exact laws I broke in the Geneva Convention, please let me know because I pretty sure I violated a few of them. Thank you, and I'll end this by simply saying
"Respect is a two-way street"
(source) story by (/u/PinoySilver)
#pettyrevenge#by /u/PinoySilver#petty revenge#revenge story#petty revenge stories#revenge stories#last10
42 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay hear me out..... an fbi 5sos au.... no? okay i’ll see myself out 😔
Oh fuck, okay this was actually quite a challenge for me. I do love me some true crime stories though, however I’m afraid this turned out to sound like an episode of Criminal Minds. That could be good or bad however you want to interpret that. Anyway, here’s some FBI!sos. 👀👀👀 Please note that this has sensitive subjects in it, please read at your own discretion!!!
Calum sat in the van, lights flashing as he watched as the officers escorted the assailant into the police car, ducking his head and then slamming the door. The case that his team had been working on for months, although solved, came to a crashing halt when they were notified of a hostage situation in the town next to theirs. Immediately, his team jumped into the fleet vehicles and sped to the location of the hostage situation. While Calum sat in the back of the van, he ran through the months and months of research that they had been doing.
Normally cases such as this one wouldn’t become and FBI problem, but as soon as the crimes started to cross state lines, the case caught the FBI’s attention. Almost thirty people had been reported missing during the time the assailant had been active, and nearly half of those people had gone missing within the past few months.
The first objective the team was given was to identify the assailant’s profile. Calum walked into the conference room with a cup of fresh coffee, something he thought was only done on TV shows, but after working for the FBI for ten years now, he’s come to realize that life can’t go on without coffee. There was a white board at the front of the room with pictures of all the victims, something that always made Calum’s stomach turn, no matter how many cases he’s worked on. He gulped and smiled down at his colleague Luke as he sat down. Luke has been on the same team as Calum for about five years. Luke worked for the Australian Secret Intelligence Service before he moved to the United States. After he moved he went through all of the American training to be a part of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Calum and Luke bonded over their Australian heritage, although Calum didn’t get into the service until he moved to America over fifteen years ago. Although Luke and Calum both knew Luke was smarter and more experienced, neither of them would admit it out loud. “Is there anything new I missed?” Calum asked after sitting down and taking a sip of the gloriously bitter liquid in his paper cup.
Luke shook his head and leaned his head into his hand, resting his elbow on the table. “Dude went silent a month ago. Think he’s about to strike again, but not sure where.” Luke licked his lips and leaned towards Calum, pointing to the white board at the front of the room. “I’ve been trying to see if there’s a pattern with where he’s choosing his victims. Maybe if there’s a shape, or a commonality between the cities.” Luke shook his head and dropped his hand, “But I’ve got nothing.”
Calum stared at the whiteboard. The victims the assailant has chosen all have something in common, the most obvious is the fact they are all women. Maybe the assailant has something against women, maybe a childhood trauma, maybe some Norman Bates thing where he’s obsessed with his mother now he’s killing women. Calum raised his eyebrows and took a drink of his coffee again, he would need more fingers and toes to count how many times he’s crossed men like that.
The rest of their team made their way into the room, sitting around the table while the team director came last, shutting the door behind him. Calum nodded to the rest of the team, Ashton joined the team about three years ago after transferring from another branch. Michael joined the team four years ago after making his way up from the local police department, his previous title being a detective. Ava, who has a doctorate in psychology, has been working for the FBI longer than Calum has been in America. Ava was incredibly smart and knew everything there was when it came to the human mind, especially serial killers. Ava and Calum were put on the same team six years ago, Calum would never admit it out loud, but Ava was one of his favorite people to sit down and have a conversation with. Greyson was the newest member of their team, he joined about a year ago, and Calum honestly didn’t even know where he came from. The only thing he knew about the guy was that he was ridiculously smart with electronics, a critical component to the team in such a technologically advanced age.
The director of the team was a gentleman named Henry. He had a good fifteen years on the oldest member of the team, but somehow he managed to get along with every single one of the members of the team, and was able to connect with them on a personal level. Henry began to break down everything they knew, recapping to see if it could jog any type of “ah-ha” moment. Calum leaned back in his chair and pressed the lips of the paper coffee cup to his lips. His eyes danced from picture to picture, collecting all of his thoughts and hypotheses. Although Calum chuckled to himself for his crazy thoughts, something suddenly made sense.
As he leaned forward he set his coffee cup on the table next to him. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Again, his eyes danced across the whiteboard, gathering every ounce of information he could. His thoughts became solidified and he sat back, scratching one finger over his cheek before he raised his hand. Henry stopped in the middle of his thought and motioned for Calum to speak. Calum cleared his throat, “Aside from the obvious fact that all of the assailant’s victims are female, and they all have brunette hair and blue eyes, something that I think we’ve been skipping over is the fact that they all came from the same city.” Everyone stayed silent and Calum stood and made his way to the whiteboard to point out his thoughts. “Victim number one, although he lived in New York City, she was originally born in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Same with all the victims afterwards. The assailant is travelling across the country, seemingly killing all the women with this physical description and come from Grand Rapids.”
Henry sat down and leaned against the table, giving Calum the floor to continue his thoughts and ideas. “We know that the assailant has been seen driving some beat up Volvo with no license plates. Maybe the Volvo is still registered in Michigan, we can narrow down the registrations in Grand Rapids and see if that can get us some names. Maybe the assailant went to school with all of these women, being brunette and blue eyed isn’t exactly uncommon. I think we should find out where these women went to school, and if there is an open registration on Volvo’s in the Grand Rapids area.” Calum was nearly out of breath trying to explain his thoughts, the excitement of figuring something out making his heart race.
Henry slapped his hand down on the table and nodded, “You all heard the man, start doing some research.” With that, the team scattered. Within a few days they narrowed down the list of names from hundreds, to just a handful. It wasn’t until they released the assailants profile to the press that everything spiraled out of control.
It took about a week and a half for the profile to spread across all media sources, and it was within hours of the team watching a press release that they got the call of the hostage. The guy who made the call was frantic, he was the owner of the local liquor store. The assailant grabbed the woman and clutched her to his chest as he pointed a gun at the owner. As he held the gun, it gently shook with how hard he was holding it. The assailant told him to leave the store, walk five miles and then call the cops. When the cops asked for a description of the woman, he answered, “She has brown hair, blue eyes, I had just checked her ID, she was from Michigan, and she had told me she was there on vacation.” After hearing that, the description was immediately sent to the FBI and the team scrambled their way to the cars.
Calum sat next to Luke in the van, and together they put on their bullet proof vests. Greyson frantically typed away at the computer, trying to tap into the security cameras. Ava, Michael and Ashton all strapped on their vest and took a deep breath, trying to ready themselves for whatever was going to happen when they finally got to this liquor store.
The van came to a screeching halt. Outside the fan was hordes of flashing lights, and multiple policeman perched on their car doors with their weapons pointed at the store. Henry got an update from the chief of police and Calum stood there, eyes scanning the entire front of the store. “He won’t come out knowing there’s so many weapons pointed at him.” Luke said with a sigh, tucking his golden curls behind his ear. Calum turned to him and Luke’s eyes widened. “He’s never done anything drastic in broad daylight. Sure, it’s night time, but there are so many eyes on him that he won’t do anything.” Luke was right, Calum knew he was right, but Calum didn’t know what to do next.
In one swift movement, Calum stripped out of his bullet proof vest, tossed it at Luke and ducked under the crime scene tape, sauntering his way towards the store front. Behind him, he could here Henry yelling at him, but before Henry could blow everything, Calum turned and shot him a look. Henry immediately became quiet, the only sound being the wind, and the heartbeats of all the nervous officers behind him. Calum raised his hands above his head as he stopped a few feet in front of the front door. “My name’s Calum, do you mind if we have a chat for a moment?” The silence was terrifying, Calum would never deny that, but silence all meant that nothing life threatening was happening. Calum kept his hands above his head as he closed the distance between him and the front door. All of the windows of the liquor store were mirrored, it was a common way for stores to combat the Los Angeles sun. As Calum reached down and rested his hand on the door handle, all he could was himself, and the flashing lights behind him. “I just want to talk, do you mind opening the door for me?” Calum said, waiting patiently for the click of the lock.
His heart dropped to his feet when he heard the click. Before making his way inside, he gulped. When he opened the door, the woman who was being held was sitting on the floor. Her ankles were tied with rope, and so were her wrists. Over her mouth was a strip of duct tape, mascara flowing down her porcelain cheeks, terror washed over her blue eyes. Calum rushed to her aide and untied her restraints as quickly as possible to ensure her safety. “As soon as I untie you, you run, don’t stop until someone on the other side of the caution tape grabs you, understand?” She nodded, sobbing still out of terror. The second she was free, she followed Calum’s instructions, running until Luke grabbed her, ushering her to the Ambulance and out of sight.
From behind Calum, he heard the gun cock. Slowly, he raised his hands above his head and turned to face the assailant. The guy was around the same age as him, but looked as if life had run over him more than a few times. His teeth were stained a blackish-green color for the amount of drugs he has injected into his body. His eyes were sunken into his head, his hair unwashed and matted. His clothes were dirty and stiff from the lack of washing. Calum looked into his glossy eyes and could tell how high he was based on the size of his pupils. Again, Calum repeated himself, “My name is Calum, why don’t we put the gun down and have a chat?”
“No!” the guy blurted out, holding the gun even tighter causing the weapon to shake. Calum has handled many guns throughout his career, but the way this guy was clutching the gun made him nervous. “You don’t even know what I’ve been through!” The assailant yelled at Calum.
“Oh, but I do, man.” Calum dropped his hands to be shoulder level. “I know that you were outcasted the second you got into high school. On top of that your mom passed away at a very young age. She was a beautiful woman, wasn’t she?” The guy gulped and nodded, tears filling his eyes. “Your dad was never around, so once your mom passed you had no one, isn’t that right?” The guy gulped again and frantically ran his hand under his eyes then clutched the gun even harder. “All of these women, you didn’t even know them, but they look just like your mother, don’t they?” Calum knew that’s what was going on, he didn’t need the assailant to confirm that. “If you drop the gun and come with me, I can help you.” It was such a cliché line, but most of the people who commit these kind of crimes just want help.
Calum took a step closer to him but the assailant took a step towards him, shaking the gun in his face. He gulped realizing that if he got any closer, Calum might end up swallowing the barrel of the gun. “I don’t need anyone’s help!” The assailant cried out, and in a split second he shut his eyes and pulled the trigger.
Thinking quickly, Calum lunged at the gun, causing the gun to motion upwards, the bullet going through the ceiling. Within seconds of the assailant landing on the floor and the gun sliding three feet away from him, Luke and the other police officers busted through the front door. As Calum locked the handcuffs around the assailant’s wrists, Luke slapped Calum’s shoulder. The local police officers took him out the front door and Luke wrapped his arms around Calum, “I heard the shot and thought he got you. You’re a crazy son of a bitch aren’t you?” Together Luke and Calum laughed. You have to be a special kind of crazy to have a career in their field, but Calum loved being that special kind of crazy.
************
Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4
**If your URL has a strike through it’s because it won't let me tag you ☹️
Ko-fi
#ask#anon#requests#fbi!sos#FBI au#calum hood#Calum Hood blurb#Calum Hood oneshot#Calum Hood imagine#Calum Hood writing#Calum Hood fan fiction#Calum Hood fan fic#Calum Hood fic#Calum Hood au#Calum Hood FBI#calum#calum blurb#calum oneshot#calum imagine#calum writing#calum fan fiction#calum fan fic#calum fic#calum au#calum fbi#Calum Hood 5 seconds of summer#Calum Hood 5sos#calum 5 seconds of summer#calum 5sos#fan fiction
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Guise
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Namjoon)
Genre: Angst/Fluff(in later parts)
Word Count: 2.4+k
part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 |
SoulmateAU! Where he hides his soulmate tattoo from everyone, especially you.
Twirling your mechanical pencil around between your middle and pointer finger of your right hand, you zoned off into the great distance, eyeing the chipping paint on the walls as you felt utterly drained and exhausted, in all physical, mental and emotional senses.
The life of a rushed college student trying to find the right balance between studying and self care and also incorporating enough of a social life to remain sane was seemingly impossible, and you were terrible at time management as you proved to yourself time and time again. Especially when finals were approaching at a fearful rate and you felt like you hadn’t prepared nearly as much as needed to ace the exams.
Huffing as you collapsed onto the desk in front of you, you heard the throaty chuckle besides you as you peered at Namjoon through your lashes and a few strands of wild hair that crept on your cheeks. “Take a nap, I’ll wake you up in thirty minutes. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He sweetly offered, his dimples popping through as he eye smiled at you through his own fatigue.
Propping your head on your hand with your elbow resting on the table, you couldn’t help but observe the deadly handsome and gentle man next to you.
He was such a good guy, you mused as you watched his profile, his own tattoo placed behind his right ear that would eventually bond him with his ‘soulmate’, a being who the universe had decided all on their own that would complete and make the other person happy. You wondered what kind of person his soulmate was.
Namjoon and you were so close, you two had bonded over each other’s respective clumsiness and forgetfulness in your freshman year of college, yet you found it a bit odd how you didn’t really know his stance on the whole soulmate thing. He never talked about the physically minuscule mark on his body that would have an enormous role in his life. Always presented a stoic, almost indifferent expression when he laid eyes upon the numerous couples along campus, never had expressed any longing towards a significant other either.
“Can I ask you something?”
He childishly snickered a little and gazed down at you with that attractive little smirk (authors note: omg imagine if he rlly looked at u like that id be dead) he did when he was about to tell a predictable joke. “You just did.” You mouthed the words along with him and rolled your eyes at him, a smile finding your lips anyway. He nodded at you and waited expectantly and suddenly you found yourself the tiniest bit shy.
Briefly pondering what would have happened if the two of you somehow shared the same tattoo, if somehow the two of you were each other soulmates. Would he had hid it if he noticed it before you did like Yoongi? No, you reasoned, he wasn’t that kind of person. He preferred to confront situations head on. Maybe you wouldn’t have hated the idea so much if you had a soulmate like Namjoon.
Instead the universe deemed your ‘perfect other half that will definitely complete you’ as an egotistic, douchebag named Min Yoongi.
“What do you feel about the whole soulmate thing?” Your voice was as small as a mouse and you saw his face drop a bit from his peaceful expression, making you tilt your head in confusion. His jaw tightened and his overall presence and posture suddenly became very rigid.
Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to his studies as he answered with stiff casualness, “I don’t really have an opinion on it. I’ll worry about it when it happens.”
You could tell that he seemed very uncomfortable with the topic and you wanted to apologize for ruining the light atmosphere. It all of a sudden felt thick with tension between the two of you and you had no idea why.
So you hummed as nonchalantly as you could and turned away, “Ah, I see...” reminding and praying that you remembered to try and get Namjoon to open up a bit when he was ready.
But for now you turned away to your own notes and thought of your own predicament you were dealing with.
Keeping your lips sealed after what happened in that cursed classroom a few weeks ago, you had told no one and determined that it was just a bad nightmare, an irrational and delusional nightmare you wanted to forget ever having.
Namjoon was Yoongi’s friend... kind of. Well, you knew that they at least tolerated each other.
Should you just tell Namjoon what had occurred and ask for advice about what to do next?
No, let’s not make him even more uncomfortable, you sighed and laid your head back on the desk and allowed your dreary eyelids to shut as you recalled what happened that dreaded afternoon.
You really did not want to believe it.
Even if it turned out to be true, you wanted to run away even if it was cowardly but before you even knew what the hell you were doing, you were taking large strides to Yoongi’s frozen figure in the seat, both gasping at the shock and warm sensation you felt from finally making physical contact for the first time.
You had heard people talking about it, how the two persons involved felt electrified and so connected to each other and their bond. And although you couldn’t really argue with that statement, you didn’t feel particularly too connected to him at that moment. You guessed the emotions were consequences of the particular revelation.
Yes, his skin was smooth and warm to the touch, and an insane part of you had the idea to run your fingers down his wrist to meet his own in an intertwined embrace. Until the more rational side, your preferred and more dominant side, clued in the jagged and broken pieces as best as it could and suddenly everything made sense, heart thundering in your chest as you broke down your late epiphany as best as you could.
Throwing his arm down harshly, you couldn’t get the image of your tattoo out of your head-the one slightly bigger than an inch-the one you somehow shared with the man in front of you. Only now were you able to decipher the strange intricate lines-it had been both of your initials in some abstract handwriting.
Looking back at it now, you felt like such an idiot to not see the MYG that was so blatantly and obviously there, mocking you, forever etched on your skin, not at all welcomed there.
Releasing a shaky exhale as you tried your hardest to remain calm, you stared at Min Yoongi, that damned loon that somehow thought it a good idea to keep such an important detail to himself, had still not moved from his frozen stature and had dark, wide unblinking eyes stare frightened back at you.
“You’re my soulmate?” As soon as the words escaped your lips, it felt all wrong. “How long have you known?”
How long had you known him for?
Why was it him?
Imitating a fish, his mouth opened and shut numerous times before uttering, “Since the day we met.”
The memory burned fresh in your brain. You had been completely and immediately enamored with him at the first glance of him, and had the vaguest feeling that your feelings were mutual. When he had suddenly grew even paler than he already was and his lovely eyes widened to their maximum extent, you wanted to ask what the matter was, your soulmate tattoo subconsciously in full view.
Until he gazed at you like you had just cursed him out with your finest curse, most disgusting insults. It had oddly felt like he took part of your soul with him when he disappeared that day.
It had seemed he was avoiding you every time he caught a glimpse of you, there was no chance in hell you were going to get to know him better if you couldn’t even get closer than twenty feet of him. One second you were making eye contact with him, then the next he was pressed against some girl all the while keeping gazes with you, not understanding why your stomach would knot in jealousy and loneliness, when normally you were not like this at all.
“You...” He had known all this time. Of course, why would he suddenly start to wear all those hoodies and sweaters in this scorching heat, with beads of sweat clinging to his temple? How he always seemed to claw at his sleeves whenever you were near? How the gorgeous girls he had flirted with in front of you filled with such insecurities just from looking from afar?
Min Yoongi was your soulmate?
What a joke.
“You knew this whole time?” You stupidly had finally spit the whole phrase out into the open air, the silence deafening as the two of you faced each other, each heart thundering in your chests.
Yoongi had finally risen from his fixed posture at the desk and stood up, taking a tentative step forward before stumbling back a few shaky steps.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You hated that you sounded so pathetic, so desperate even to yourself.
It wasn’t as if you had even wanted to meet your soulmate, the fact that he hid it from you probably meant that he didn’t want you, right? So you should be happy you weren’t tied to someone who was going to tie you to him, but why did the thought of him possibly not wanting you break your heart into pieces?
Maybe there was such a thing as a soulmate bond after all, if your whole being was being torn like this, this much.
His demeanor seemed to change in an instant, and he had lost all past vulnerability and uncertainty. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed on you he spat out, “You think this makes sense?” He gestured between the two of you quickly, trying to keep his voice low in case any other students were lingering out in the halls, although unlikely, and you could sense his shame from where you were standing. “Us? That you’re my soulmate?”
It was like the roles had reversed and now you were the frozen one, an ache formed deep in your stomach as you registered his words. But they were the ones you had wanted to say to him a few minutes ago, so why were you feeling this way?
“I’ll tell it to you straight,” he continued, not giving you a moment to collect yourself. “I don’t want people finding out you’re my soulmate. It’s embarrassing, and since you never bothered to hide it, I have to.” He bent down and grasped his discarded hoodie from the ground and shook it in your direction. “Do you know how fucking bothersome is it to always have to wear this twenty four seven? In this weather? Huh?”
You didn’t bother answering, feeling yourself get worked up over his words had you breaking out of your moment of dejection and nodded, exhaling harshly. Right, you could overcome this. But first you had to show him that you weren’t just going to stay silent and weak when he was insulting you.
Embarrassing? He was embarrassed of you? He should have just told you when he had first found out, that way things wouldn’t have been this twisted. The two of you could have coolly and casually gone your separate ways, but for some reason you felt betrayed.
“Look, we have nothing in common, and to be honest, this whole soulmate shit is really fucking unfair.” It seemed he was becoming a bit drained, like his newfound energy had dissipated as fast as it had come.
“I wouldn’t say we have nothing in common,” you trailed off, meeting his glare with one of your own, though his faltered a bit at your unexpected words, looking at you the tiniest bit puzzled. A bitter smile gracing your lips, you raised your eyebrows a bit as you continued, gaining a bit of satisfaction at the look of surprise on Yoongi’s face. “It’s not like I want you, either.”
“Y/N wake up.” You were being shook gently back and forth by Namjoon, his dimpled smile being the first sight you see when you open your eyes. He chuckled under his breathe as you sluggishly lift your weary body up, and groaning in pain as you feel one your ribs were pressing on the edge of the table, an ache forming and stabbing every time you moved. Sitting up, you noticed a very familiar light cardigan draped around your shoulders, and you gaze starstruck and touched up at Namjoon, silently thanking him for covering you, knowing you always got cold when you slept.
He ruffled your hair affectionately in answer as you attempted to rub the remaining sleepiness from your eyes and fix your appearance so it was more presentable, handing the cardigan back to him. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you,” he smiled apologetically. “but the library is closing soon, and I’d feel better if you slept in your own bed instead of this stiff chair.”
It was only then you noticed the lack of people around and you felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks, wondering why if you had slept so long why you felt even more exhausted than before. “Thanks, and sorry for making you study by yourself...” you trailed off, standing up and slinging your bag on your shoulder as the two of you slowly made your way out of the library, nodding politely to the librarian behind the wide oak desk.
“No worries, but I do expect some coffee from you tomorrow, just saying.” It had gotten a bit dark and there was a bit of a breeze and you froze as Namjoon suddenly draped the cardigan over your shoulders once again. Your fingers met when you both fixed the collar and it made you grip the fabric tighter around yourself when he quickly pulled away, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.
You agreed to his proposition as casually as you could and stumbled a little when you made eye contact with the one and only Min Yoongi, who was also just seemed to leaving for the day, his strong gaze alternating between you and Namjoon, and the cardigan around your shoulders.
wow i have not written this much in a really long time so i’m actually pretty proud of myself lol. lmk what u guys thought down in the comments or messages! as always thanks to everyone who is reading and to everyone who left those supportive comments they really made my day and i appreciate all of you!!<3
T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .
tag list: @hoodiebangtan @xanny91 @babeejeon @chocolatemilk1221 @fuckthatfeeling @cremextart @secretlypg95 @littlegryffindorsavage @paracii @tragicrosemoons @sunshinein17 @xxluckydreamsxx @skzleaf @lidda @thesugatoyourtae @marycarabell @pawschimchim
#bts#bts au#bts drabble#bts fluff#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts suga#suga#min yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts namjoon#bts x reader#bts angst#bts soulmate au#soulmate au#kpop scenarios
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
So. It is March 23rd 2021. My birthday is soon. I weigh more than 157lbs.
I haven't been as active on here because I hate looking at thinspo when I can't do anything to get there. Since I had my jab a couple of weeks ago I've been really exhausted. Because of that I've felt worse mentally and have been drinking more, which has made me more exhausted, and I've eaten more shit foods, so of course I've gained weight. I should be thankful it's not more. It feels like more. Though that weight will also be partly due to toilet issues again. I can't go a day without lax apparently.
I feel a lot right now but also not much at all and I think I can't only describe it as heartbreak. This feels like I might have said it before. I made this account in late October last year - around that time/November, I went from around 163 to 156lbs. I wanted to get to my gw by my birthday, or at least significantly lower. So that I wouldn't feel so terrible.
Last year I was sad I couldn't do anything for my birthday due to the pandemic, as a lot of us were. This year will be my second lockdown birthday. It's also my 30th. I'm someone who already feels like they lost so much of their life to various issues. I feel so behind. If you told me I was actually turning 20 next week I'd still feel like it was too soon. So 30? I'm not ready. I wasn't finished. I at least had a year and a bit left of my 20s and now it's just gone. I guess it's typical millennial talk to say I just feel like too much of a child to be getting to an age where I'm no longer considered a young person by any metric.
I don't really look old. I get IDed all the time. People tend to mistake me for a teenager (though I'm guessing an actual teenager would probably know I'm at least older than them). I guess at least I'm not aging on the outside faster than I can keep up. But that tends to be the issue most people have with getting older, like as long as they look young and don't have too much joint pain then it's okay. That's not it for me. My physical health has been bad for so long and is connected so much to my mental health that I don't really know how much of that is due to age, but as far as appearance goes it's not that I don't recognise my reflection or anything. I occasionally get one wrinkle under my eye but that's just if a smile and thinking about it it's probably the one that's been there all my life because that's how eyes work.
But I know that's all coming. And regardless, I just feel really discouraged. You're supposed to learn how to do things as you grow up. I feel like I haven't grown up. I was just forced into it too young and I played pretend with it but I'm totally lost. I can't handle responsibility. I sometimes handle it in the moment but then I always break down afterwards. The only thing that can help is constant praise as if it's some amazing feat. But you don't get that when you're 30, you get it when you're 12 and "so mature" but then it just stops somewhere.
I feel like if I haven't got anywhere by now, why should I have any hope I'll get anywhere in future? Often people talk about turning 30 as being a time when they've learned more about themselves or got more comfortable, even without going into tangible "achievements" with work and family and money and whatever. But I haven't. I got married, and I even fucked that up.
All of these things have been on my mind about my birthday. I wanted to at least lose some weight. At least some. Just get back to where I was a few years ago. With a few months of working on it, I could at least do that. I had plenty of time until my birthday. But now it's here. My weight plateaued, I got frustrated and drank too much that one day in November and made myself seriously ill for a long time, I just about recovered and had a fucking fecal impaction that made me really ill I'm still feeling the effects of, I got a little more energy then had loads of side effects from the covid jab, and even at the times when this stuff wasn't getting in the way I was either doing badly and eating too much/not exercising, or I was doing stuff but my weight wasn't changing.
And now it's fucking here already. Logically I know it's just another day, 30 isn't exactly any different to 29, freaking out doesn't help, my metabolism isn't the same as when I was 14, etc etc blah whatever. But I have always had this horrible feeling of time just going past me. I've had it since I was a teenager and all my friends from school we're continuing with their education and I was just aimlessly floating and trying to survive. Like I was being left behind, and yet somehow still getting older. I also need a lot more sleep than most people and have always had the experience of waking up late or going to bed early, one way or another missing out. All the time I've lost because I can't survive on 8hrs sleep. Most people lose a third of their lives to sleep; I lose half. I miss out on so much, but time doesn't exactly slow down for me to catch up.
That feeling is at its worst now, hitting another milestone birthday, one that means I can no longer even call myself a young adult, and one that comes after a year of sitting around doing fuck all. This past year has pushed all those buttons. I know that it's for a reason and it saves lives etc. If I didn't think that I wouldn't be doing it, I'd just go do whatever I want instead of isolating. But it's still really hard for me. The only things I could do with this time are self improvement. My weight is my biggest insecurity. It's been nearly 5 months since I lost any weight. And not because it stopped bothering me. I'd take either weight loss or not caring - one way or another I just want to feel okay in my body.
Instead I'll just feel old and expired with my weight being another aspect of that. I'm really heartbroken. I guess it really is grief - the thing I've lost that I can't get back is time. I know everyone goes through it at least a little, but I'm really feeling it a lot.
I'm also terrified that lockdown is easing and I'll be able to go see bf. We've both been vaccinated too. I do want to see him. It's been another major difficult thing about this past year. But I'm terrified because I hate my body so much and I don't want anyone to see me. I need at least another month. My hair looks stupid and I need it to grow out at least a little. I need more time on my new skincare routine, which is the only thing that's actually any good right now. And I definitely need to lose at least SOME weight because right now if anyone touched me or looked at my bare stomach I think I'd just cry there and then. I can't drink through my insecurity anymore.
I am not having a nice time right now. I'm really not. I haven't even touched on the other stresses happening both to me and those around me and in my city or country or even globally. Everything is so much. I feel like I'm just in the wrong timeline. Everything is bad. I can't deal
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Starfire | 05
; Hoseok x Reader
; Genre: Sci-Fi, adventure, angst, future smut
; Word Count: 7.2k
; Synopsis: The schism that broke the galaxy began, as it usually does, over a disagreement. The resultant civil war has raged for hundreds of years. When a ragtag group of travellers discovers something that could turn the tide of war, for good or for worse, the bonds of friendship and love will be tested.
; A/N: Another part! :D Please read and enjoy because I still love writing this series so much and the character are so wonderful! If you do read, pleeeease reblog so that others can see too and leave me wonderful comments so I can get excited too or leave me asks! I finished this chapter because someone reblogged Starfire and left me wonderful comments so I just had to finish this!
Previous Chapter ; Next Chapter
-
“Approaching Mikanis space now Captain,” Taehyung said clearly, his gaze focused on the holoscreen in front of him as it fed him statistics from the Starfire. Or Fury as she was known now. “Contacting Mikanis traffic control now.”
Everyone on the bridge was stiff with nerves, glancing between each other awkwardly. This would be the true test to discover if Jungkook truly had done the ship ID change correctly. The name from the hull had already been removed when you’d taken a brief stop out of hyperspace before carrying on, removing the legacy and providing a cover for you all.
It now proclaimed her to be Fury in bright and bold letters, though the name wouldn’t stand up to an intense physical inspection of the ship herself. There were too many things on board that were labelled with her original name and none of you had had the time to scour through and change everything so carefully. Nor could you, realistically.
There was a reason that changing ship IDs was illegal and could only be done by officials. It was too time consuming and costly. But it wasn’t a choice for you all, it was simply a way to try and survive. All you could hope was that the ID would check out on their end and they wouldn’t have any reason to look further.
A quick turn of your head lets you take in Namjoon’s face as he sits silent, body leaning to the side as his fingers rest against his mouth. He looked the picture of calm and patience, but you can tell he’s more nervous than he's letting on. For everyone else’s sake you bet.
“Mikanis TC, this is Fury. Request permission for lane position and docking at Craila City.” Taehyung says, his voice steady. His fingers dart over the keyboard as he inputs the ID code that Jungkook had given him, denoting Fury’s identity and information for Mikanis traffic control to look over.
There’s the tiniest pause that heightens the tension on the bridge even more before a deep drawl dances over the bridge. “Mikanis TC to Fury, permission is granted. Lane eighteen, position nine. Please navigate to docking station twelve at Craila City. Welcome to Mikanis.”
The exhale of everyone onboard is audible, with Jin even running his hands down his face as he stands with Jisoo towards the door. Namjoon’s closed his eyes in relief while Taehyung has a smile of his own as your heart beats frantically. You input the directions for Taehyung once you receive them before turning around to gesture at Jungkook.
“Looks like it worked Jungkook.” The android looks at you with widened eyes and you smile gently in response, watching as he visibly calms down in front of you. A slight nod is all he gives though, trying to blend into the wall behind him to avoid interaction with others. He was still so nervous and shy, and you weren’t sure how to break that habit.
“Where is Craila City?” You ask, frowning over at Namjoon as he leans back in his seat. He looks at you with a carefully blank face before sighing quietly, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up thoroughly. Despite telling him to sleep, he’d evidently chosen to ignore your request because he still has some impressive dark circles going on under his eyes.
“Akati. It’s one of the newer megacities, only a century old. It’s in the north but situated more towards the coastline so the weather’s not quite as extreme as the desert. Downside though is that it’s really windy. Other than that, it’s your typical Mikanian shit hole.” His words are barbed and your brows rise in amusement.
You’d only looked into a few of their cities when researching them, and you’d never visited Mikanis before so it was going to be an experience for you. “What? Don’t like cities?” You tease lightly, knowing that Namjoon had come from a much more sparsely populated planet.
“That’s got nothing to do with it. I just don’t like cities where a half a billion people live in it and you have to live with the knowledge that if the shield falls then you’ll all probably die. Plus, it’s full of the kind of people you don’t want to meet.” He responds dryly.
Jimin snorts suddenly, causing you both to look over to him. “You mean like us? We may not murder people but we still do illegal shit. Especially now. In fact...we’re probably doing the most illegal thing in the entire universe right now thanks to him,” He points to Jungkook. “Anyway, I like Mikanis. It’s a place that doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. You can get whatever the fuck you want there.”
You frown slightly. “We need to be careful though. Mikanis has the highest death rate in the known galaxy for a reason.” Jimin just rolls his eyes in response as if you’d just told him a really stupid joke or something.
“Yeah, ‘cos they don’t take kindly to fools. You’re either honest in Mikanis or dead. And by honest, I mean lying your fucking ass off. Don’t trust anyone down there. They’d sell their own mother if it got them something.” His tone is dry and you laugh quietly.
“Sounds great. Anyway, where’s Chungha?” The question is directed back at Namjoon and he looks back up with raised brows, his full lower lip being chewed by white teeth. A visible sign of nerves now.
“She’s a weapon’s engineer at Artica Industries; it’s in Craila, on the surface.” Jimin whistles lowly before you can even say anything, causing everyone to look at him once more. He looks suitably impressed though, and you wonder why.
“Care to explain why you look like you’ve just had ten women strip naked right here for you?” You ask, causing him to grin lasciviously as he wiggles his eyebrows at you before straightening his face back out.
“Yeah, the captain’s lovergirl must be hot shit. Artica is one of the biggest weapons manufacturers in the galaxy and they’re at the cutting edge when it comes to laser and plasma. They mostly work in ship weapons so they get to play with some fun toys that cause big booms. They’re also ridiculously fucking rich, hence why they’re on the surface of Mikanis. Only the 1% gets to live there,” He pauses before looking at Namjoon with a raised brow. “They also have contracts with both TAS and UIS.”
His words land heavy in the bridge, causing you to look at Namjoon as your blood runs icy in your veins. Without even thinking, you’re shaking your head in denial. “No, no Namjoon. Do not tell me that you’ve taken us to the one fucking place in the galaxy that can not only turn us in to both fucking TAS and UIS but can also probably blow us the fuck away if we try to run?!”
“Chungha wouldn’t do that! I told you, she owes me.” He protests loudly, holding his hands out pleadingly while you glare at him.
“You’re putting a lot of faith on someone just because she owes you for something years ago. Someone who you think still has feelings for you. What if she doesn’t? We may as well have just stayed and let ourselves get killed! Did Hoseok really almost kill himself for no reason?!” You hiss at him, words quiet and filled with anger while everyone stays in awkward silence.
“I’m putting myself on the line here. Please, trust me. I know you all have no reason to after everything that’s happened but...I trust her. I do. I know it didn’t end good last time but...please. She’s the one person I can think of that can help. Like I said...she’s well connected.” Namjoon stands and looks at everyone, his face serious while his eyes gleam with desperate persuasion.
“She better be,” Yoongi growls, glaring at his captain. “Because if you’ve just taken us from a bad situation to a worse situation, I’ll be really pissed off.”
Lisa nods next to him, her eyes narrowed fiercely and you sigh loudly, gesturing for everyone to calm down. “Okay guys...come on. We’ll just...we’ll take it slow okay? Namjoon and I will go to Chungha alone, scope her out and see if she’s willing to go along with us. Taehyung and Rose, you two stay on board and keep her ready to go if we need to run. Jin, Jisoo, I want you two to go out and see if you can find us whatever we need to upgrade Starfire. I want her faster, harder and able to hit harder too if possible. Take the money from the communal funds, you’ll all get your money back I swear but I think this is more important right now. Yoongi and Lisa, you two go out and get provisions for us all. That includes weapons. Jimin, you’re backing us up. All good with everyone?”
A glance around the room has everyone nodding slowly and you let out a deep breath of relief. It was always good when the crew didn’t argue over something, but there was nothing for them to argue over this time. They either did what they were told, or you all died.
Jungkook suddenly spoke up and your eyes widened as you looked at him with guilt rushing through you as you realised that you’d somehow managed to forget him. “I have run through the list of businesses operating on Craila...there is a Magi owned store there. I...I have been doing some research on Magi...I have a list of items that I think I could use to help Hoseok heal faster. If...if someone would be willing to go get them for me? I don’t think I should leave the ship.”
Everyone stays quiet for a moment before looking at you gingerly, wondering how you’ll take that. But you just smile softly, your heart racing hard as you imagined seeing Hoseok awake once more when you get back to the ship and you knew that you’d do anything for him.
“Sure. Give it to Yoongi and Lisa. If you’d be okay with doing a detour?” You ask them both, expecting them to complain about being asked to do something by an android. Lisa was still angry with him but Yoongi had slowly been mellowing out. He wasn’t really the kind to hold a grudge, and you knew that if accepted Jungkook then Lisa would eventually too.
But to your surprise, they both nod immediately with completely serious looks on their faces. “Of course. We’d do anything to help Hoseok if we can.” Yoongi says and you bite your lip to try and stop the rush of emotions from showing on your face.
It doesn’t work evidently, given the way Lisa’s eyes soften and she gives you her own sweet smile as she nods. “He’s gonna be okay, we all know it.”
Everyone nods and you lower your head momentarily, clenching your fists before taking a long and slow breath. Nodding to yourself, you look back up at everyone and smile brightly before slapping your thighs firmly.
“Right. Then everyone get ready for what you have to do. Taehyung and I will get Starfi-I mean...Fury, docked and I want everyone to be ready to leave within five minutes of docking. Is that okay Namjoon?” You ask, looking at your captain for confirmation that he was okay with your commanding of everyone.
He smiles though, appreciation in his gaze at you bringing the crew round so quickly and nods himself. “Yeah. You heard her, get moving.”
-
The crew scatters once you’ve docked, hurrying off to do their own chores while also hoping to get in a bit of free time if possible. Neither you nor Namjoon would begrudge them any if they could find it, as long as they didn’t get themselves in trouble that they couldn’t get out of.
It was the last thing you all needed right now for someone to get locked up for something stupid.
The climate of Craila City was oddly hot and humid, leading to you stripping off the faux leather jacket you’d donned and wrapping it tightly around your waist. It helped to cover your weapon but also let your arms get some much needed air. Namjoon was evidently choosing to suffer, keeping his own coat on while black sunglasses covered his eyes.
“You look like you’re going to walk the runway at Pariska.” You chide at him, rolling your eyes when he simply gives you the finger in return. Jimin snorts a laugh from your side, his persona today being that of a surprisingly bland looking man. His skin tone and facial features don’t help to denote any nationality, and at a glance he could even be mistaken for a few various alien races under the right lighting.
You scan him over once more, taking in the loose fitting trousers and dull beige shirt wondering once more how he manages to shift his clothes too. Jimin never gave away any secrets and you weren’t sure if it was because he couldn’t, he didn’t want to or just that he knew the curiosity burned at you.
Knowing Jimin, it was probably the latter.
Still, you gestured at him lazily with a raised brow. “Is this...purposefully the most boring person you could have ever possibly created? Don’t you ever want to be someone...better looking?”
“Why? I’m already attractive. Besides, that goes against the objective of blending in if I choose a visage that is more beautiful than the people around me. No, this is a face that a thousand people could look at and forget.” He pauses before eyeing you slowly, his own brow raising. “We study what most races consider average and learn to produce a shape that is so boring and unappealing that no one ever pays attention. I’m just a middle aged human man, a little down on his luck but doing okay for myself. Just like every other person here.”
At that, he makes a vague hand gesture towards the crowd of people surrounding you all. You glance around and note that he’s right. Everyone around you is dressed similarly to Jimin, in a style that isn’t particularly noticeable but also not horribly shabby.
Though you question if the only reason people are dressed like that is because the entrance to one of Craila’s large docking stations is here and these people evidently either work on the docks, are travelling themselves or have a ship docked here.
Quietly, you take in the whole environment carefully, partially to make sure that there doesn’t seem to be anyone who’s spotted you and also simply because you like going to new places and seeing them. There was always something new and interesting to catch your eye.
You’d never been to Mikanis, and you’ve never been to a city quite as big as Craila. Or at the very least, the large cities you go to are sprawling across the land, not digging down deep into the crust of the planet.
The entrance to the dock lies behind as you walk out to the heaving street in front of you. It’s crammed with land vehicles that stink of metal while a glance up lets you see the overcrowded sky lanes that stream above you in a steady flow of air cars and cruisers.
Glass and metal building reach up high into the sky all around, like they were in a contest to see who could reach the cloudless blue far above and casting the whole world into shadow. High above, the world looked to be shiny and clean but far down here the grime and dirt was beginning to show.
It was mind boggling to think that half a billion people lived in this one city alone. There weren’t even half a billion people on Hekasus, never mind to fill one city! So many people filled the streets here, bumping into each other with no care about personal space and you shuddered slightly, disliking the intense smell of body odour from all the alien races around you, not just the humans.
A city this big and this populated could never smell good, and you hated to think what the larger and more established cities smelled like.
It was almost claustrophobic, and you let your head fall back onto your shoulders as you gazed straight up to where the startlingly tall towers seemed to bend toward each other at their apex. They were tiny up there, barely wider than your finger but you knew the reality of them. Each building probably housed a ridiculous number of people or businesses.
“It’s so...crammed.” You say softly, frowning as you look back down. Every building looks to have a store built into the bottom floor, neon holographic signs projecting out and cluttering up the free air space as they proclaim a sale, a massage parlour, a shooting gallery, a bar, high end prostitutes, a department store, the latest video game and more.
It’s overwhelming on your senses and the longer you stand there, the more you start to pick out individual scents. The smell of rasa bubbling from the street vendor on the other side of the road, his mechanical arm stirring the pot of red spiced meat and sauce while a vendor on your side of the road hawks his roasted payka, the tasty vegetables bursting with delicious flavour that makes your mouth water.
“Yeah, like I said. It’s a shit hole,” Namjoon grunts before pointing up. “And this is where the rich folk live, if you can believe it.”
You glance upwards once more, taking in the subtle purple shimmer high in the sky as the shield that protects the city from the deadly planet’s atmosphere shudders into visibility momentarily. This was the rich part of the city because they could see the sky; you had no doubt about that.
Already from here, you could see the road dipping down into a well lit tunnel to your left, the directions on the hologram filtering themselves into your language as you see it proclaim it to be the way to the Upper District.
“What’s the Upper District? Isn’t this the upper?” Namjoon shakes his head before pointing to the building in front of you all.
“Nope, this is Land District. Upper District is the first level below ground. Then there’s Garden District, Midtown District, Sub-District and Lower District. There’s a final one under that, I believe it’s the sewage system and service entries or something. Between each level is a subway system that also runs through all the floors. The lower you go...the poorer you are.”
You snort at that wryly, giving him a dry glance as you both obviously have the same thought. After years as his second-in-command, you’ve gained the innate ability to do that, and right now you’re both thinking that that it’s a sad metaphor for the life of those in poverty. On other planets, saying you’re at the bottom of the pile just means that you’re living a life full of hardship and strife.
On Mikanis, it literally means that you’re at the bottom of the city. Sighing as you glance back over the tunnel, you ponder for a moment what life must be like them for them. Given how far down they are beneath the planet’s surface, you presume that they likely don’t get to see much natural light. A part of you wonders what it looks like down there, but then you push that thought away.
Looking back up to the sky, the soft shimmer of the shield keeping the whole city safe from the raging planet beyond, you decide that you couldn’t ever live down there. For someone who grew up Hekasus, with forests and fields and mountains filled with cool and crisp air and then transferred to a spaceship where the universe was literally your oyster, the very idea of being cooped up far beneath the surface to never see light or stars again was horrifying.
You hoped their life wasn’t too hard, but the rational part of your brain knew better. There was nothing you could do for them though and so you inhaled deeply, straightening your shoulders before looking back at Namjoon. He’d been watching you carefully, his expression blank as he let you take in what he’d told you and you give him a small smile.
“Let’s go meet Chungha, yeah? And hope she doesn’t blow your head off. That might not go down well with the rest of the crew and heka, I am not ready to be the leader of our ship. I’d kill Jimin within two days.” You groan lightly, pushing at Namjoon’s arm and leading him to a waiting transport vehicle. The black car is hovering slightly above the ground, vivid neon blue and pink adverts plastered along the side and changing with alarming frequency in an obnoxious assault on the senses.
Above it, the green sign of a vacant transport vehicle let’s you know it’s free to use and you climb into it carefully. You hadn’t even noticed Jimin slip away into the crowd, moving ahead of you both to scout out the building carefully. He’d moved with that liquid grace that let him disappear before anyone had even realised he’d gone, and you had no doubt that Jimin would have probably checked out the whole building by the time you got there.
No one knew how he did it, nor would he ever tell. All you knew was that it was incredibly useful.
The interior of the transport car is surprisingly big, with more than enough room for you both to sit without having to brush up against each other. Namjoon was very tall and broad, leading to many times when you’d been pressed up against him because the man just took up too much damn room.
A holo screen drops down from the centre of the roof, lighting up the interior with a soft blue glow and Namjoon inputs your destination. There’s a tiny pause as the screen processes his request, no doubt working out a journey before it states a price in a currency you’ve never seen. Namjoon doesn’t say anything though as he simply presses his wrist to the payment sensor on the arm of his chair, a green acceptance flashing before the engine of the car starts.
Looking out the window, you watch as the car lifts up from the ground before moving to join one of the sky lanes, its speed increasing as it zooms through the city. You get a wonderful view from here of the towering skyscrapers and landscape that is just visible between certain buildings.
Even in the daytime, with the sun shining brightly down on everything, the city is alive with light and colour. A part of you can’t wait to see what it looks like at night, knowing the image will be even more impressive than it is now, but at the same time you lament the loss of nature in this sprawling city.
You haven’t seen a single plant, and the very idea of not being to enjoy nature is abhorrent to you. It’s positively mind boggling that there are people who will be born, live and die on this planet who will likely never see a living plant.
Turning to Namjoon, you watch as his gaze remains firmly on the shifting cityscape beyond the windows. His skin is ever so slightly paler than normal and you know that’s because he simply hasn’t been sleeping that well. He blames himself for what happened, and part of you agrees with that honestly.
But Starfire was a team, a family, and all decisions were unanimous. Therefore, it wasn’t his fault entirely that things had gone so wrong.
Still though, you need to make sure that everything is hopefully going to go okay from now. Because there’s no one around at the moment and Namjoon doesn’t have to put on a brave face with only you there.
Placing a hand on his arm, he turns to look at you slowly. His eyes are lowered, the corners of his mouth tilted down while the tiniest lines crease his brow. You know that he’s far more worried and stressed than he’s let on and it makes your chest ache for him in sympathy. He didn’t deserve any of this worry, not when he’d simply been trying to sustain his crew and ship.
“Joon...what do we do if Chungha can’t help?” The question is quiet, even in the relative silence of the transport car and Namjoon’s brow stiffens as his lips pursed. You don’t even need to hear him to know that he’s annoyed, though he’s probably only annoyed because he’s scared.
“She’ll help. I swear she will. I believe in her.” He states clearly, causing you to sigh deeply. Turning forwards, you watch the holo screen as it plays a random ad for some bar in the city while not actually taking it in.
“I didn’t say won’t, I said can’t. Even if she says yes, what if she can’t help us? I mean...what are we even supposed to do? How do we resolve this whole issue? Both sides want to kill us. We’re backed into a corner that we can’t get out of as far as I can see. We need to think Joon, she might not be able to help us.” Your words are soft and filled with emotion, recognising the downfall that may be approaching you all quickly.
Namjoon doesn’t respond for a few moments, instead remaining quiet as his fingers tugged absently at an errant thread on his trousers. You know it’s hard for him to acknowledge, but you have no doubt that he’s been thinking about it too. This might truly be the end of the line for everyone on the Starfire.
“I don’t know. I don’t...I don’t know.” You’ve never heard him sound so defeated, the way his shoulders slump down and his whole body just loses any tension. His face looks desolate and your heart clenched tightly, causing you to lay an arm around his shoulders and squeeze them tightly in reassurance.
“We’ll...find a way. We’ll find a way like we always do. Even...even if we spend the rest of our lives running or something. We’ll find a way.” He doesn’t respond and you squeeze again, laying your cheek on his shoulder and sighing quietly. “We’ll do it Joon, I swear.”
“I hope so.” Is all he says, his voice filled with some much dejection and fear that you find yourself worrying even more for him. He doesn’t need to be stressing out like this, not when he’s meant to be the one leading you but that’s why he has you, you reason to yourself.
Your job as second-in-command meant keeping everyone else in line while also making sure that your captain’s health and wellbeing is also being taken care of. It’s a frustrating position to be in, but one that you would never relinquish because you know how heavily Namjoon relies on you.
How heavily he’s relying on you right now and you can’t let him down, not with something this important.
-
Jungkook moves about the tiny room he’s been given as his own in silence, barely making a noise as he pads from one side to the other and moves items around. On the tiny desk by his bed he has a bowl made of ancient ceramic, decorated with tiny magi symbols all along both the outer and inner walls.
This was just one of the items he’d asked the crew to get for him, the other stuff was laid around the room haphazardly as he worked efficiently. He found it odd to suddenly have a purpose to his time, a purpose that was truly meaningful and could potentially change a life.
The magical coma Hoseok had fallen into after the battle had been because of him, the magi had almost given his own life to save the Starfire because Jungkook existed. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel guilt, but he did. Intensely.
Guilt for being created, guilt for the Starfire finding him, guilt for them almost dying, guilt for them having to flee and being chased by the prospect of death simply because he existed. It was worse with Hoseok though, as he’d had to watch as you almost fell apart at how close Hoseok had come to death. Jungkook hadn’t known about you two, hadn’t known about the deep and strong bonds that bound you together even if you hadn’t acknowledged it out loud.
He felt guilty for that too, as you had been the nicest person to him on the ship besides from Taehyung. That meant a lot to him, as Jungkook was still learning. He was learning all the time, his mind taking in information rapidly and trying to understand the intricacies of personal relationships and so forth. It was hard when people wouldn’t let him try, but Taehyung and you did.
Jungkook likes Taehyung, he was friendly and open which was pleasing to someone who was trying to comprehend their very existence. The Cognizar made him feel like he was normal, like he was alive. All Taehyung seemed to care about was showing Jungkook the latest games or vids.
One of the hardest things to comprehend was the fact that Jungkook felt particularly useless to everyone on the ship. No one truly trusted him and he wasn’t sure how to gain that trust. Changing the Starfire’s name had been a small step forward, but he knew he would have to work much harder to make them believe in him more.
He had to show that he was part of their crew, that he wanted to be a part of their family and to be loved by them like they loved each other. And to do that, he felt that he needed to try and help Hoseok wake up given it was his fault it had happened in the first place.
Hours had been spent in this room as they’d traveled to Mikanis, sat on the bed that he found strangely comfortable while he scanned data that he had downloaded to research Hoseok’s condition. Jungkook didn’t like it when he did that, as the data that scrolled through his head made him remember that he was not alive, but was in fact a machine that simply thought on its own.
But he pushed those thoughts away every time, sinking deeper into the information on the planet Hekasus and its unique population of Magiikus users. From his studies, he’d discovered that Hekasus had been inhabited by humans for 4,000 years now. The original settlers had been from Beowulf, the sixtieth planet to be settled by the original human homeworld of Earth.
Apparently on Beowulf, there had been a certain species of plant that gave off an element that had never been discovered before. For centuries, human’s hadn’t thought it was doing anything strange as it didn’t seem to change anything about them and so they had simply consumed it alongside their other crops as it had proven to be safe to eat.
Humans had lived on Beowulf for two millennia before a large contingent moved on to the newly discovered planet of Hekasus. It had been here that they had discovered that the element had in fact done something and the humans of Beowulf had in fact been genetically modified over time by the element. The environment on Hekasus activated a certain gene amongst random members of the population, allowing them to access the well of power now known as Magiikus.
Jungkook struggled to find anything more about the magi themselves or Magiikus because it proved that the users of this mystical force chose to keep most of it secret. All he knew was that everyone from the original Beowulf settlers had the gene, and the gene had proven dominant over the years even when they had interbred with humans from other planets. But it only activated when growing up on Hekasus, and it was seemingly random who it activated in.
Only 40% of the population of Hekasus were found to have the activated gene, and their abilities in using Magiikus differed as well. It had all been very fascinating to Jungkook, to read about how easily a human could experience mutations in their genetic makeup and how wildly it could change them.
The element on Beowulf mixed with the environment of Hekasus allowed humans to use a force that no one truly understood. A casual search had let Jungkook know that there had been ten other genetic mutations caused by environmental impacts in humanity over the millennia.
Those living on Basilikus had developed an immunity to heavy metals that would kill a large majority of other living creatures. People on that planet had proven to be the best scientists in the field of nuclear research of all kinds as they had the bizarre benefit of being completely immune to the radiation let off by the heavy metals they worked with.
Humans on Amati on the other hand had evolved over the millennia to be resistant to a multitude of poisons caused by the toxic plants that lived on their planet. Jungkook found it ridiculously odd that humanity would voluntarily inhabited these dangerous planets until they eventually evolved to cope with them instead of just going somewhere else, but he’d noticed that living beings seemed to have odd ideas about many things.
Either way, he’d had to spend hours upon hours sifting through data from Hekasus before he had finally stumbled across an ancient description of a magi suffering what Hoseok was. It had outlined a ritual that had been performed on the magi, including the ingredients used to create a...well Jungkook wasn’t even sure what it was because he couldn’t translate the words properly but he presumed it be a steam or scent that would help Hoseok to wake up.
Apparently it was something to do with stimulating his Magiikus and revitalising him, encouraging him to waken far sooner. It may all be a bunch of crap, but Jungkook was willing to try because it likely wouldn’t hurt him. Just make the room smell a bit.
He’d been carefully experimenting with the ingredients provided to him for the last few hours in his room, thankful that he could ignore the bizarre mix of scents that drifted in the air while he focused on perfecting it. The story or recipe whatever it was had said that the substance became a pearlescent purple with swirls of pink with an almost glittering steam.
So far, Jungkook had managed to create solid purple before he’d gotten to pearlescent purple, but the steam had been just plain white. But maybe this time…
He gently added a tiny dash of precias, a powdered gem found on Hekasus and held his breath as he mixed the contents slowly in a clockwise direction. It seeped into the thick paste, the pale pink vanishing into the deep purple and he watched nervously to see what would happen.
The writing on the bowl suddenly glowed a soft white for a few seconds and he let out a whoop of glee as the paste lightened to a pretty pearlescent purple, strands of a beautiful pink flowing through it while a gentle steam rose, the air shimmering. He’d done it! He’d managed to make it!
Now all he had to do was hopefully wake Hoseok up and everyone would hopefully be happy with him.
Grinning to himself, he took the bowl and exited his room quickly before navigating to Hoseok’s small room. It was bigger than his own, but he recognised that it was still smaller than the captain’s. Perhaps most surprising was that it was as sparsely decorated as his own.
Rose was inside the quiet room, a beautiful and light melody leaving her lips to fill the air with something that made Jungkook’s chest tighten for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like listening to her was like listening to the silent melody of the universe itself. Like he was listening to something so beautiful and big he couldn’t comprehend it, even with a machine for a brain.
She stopped immediately as he walked in, her eyes calm and warm as she watched him move closer. They dropped to the bowl in his hands and her head tilted to the side slightly, the movement unnatural even to Jungkook as her long, flowing hair shifted gently to a beautiful emerald green and her eyes soon become vibrant green gemstones as curiosity took over her.
“Is that what you needed to make?” She asked gently, her voice sweet and kind. He smiled in response, mentally re-evaluating his earlier statement that only Y/N and Taehyung had been nice to him. Rose had been equally as welcoming, an almost otherworldly knowledge to her eyes that told him she would forever be on his side.
He’d tried to research the Galaxis in his free time and had been astonished by how little he’d found. They didn’t talk about their race, nor even where they were from and he knew from the histories he’d found that one day, they had simply appeared. They could not be held in any place, for they always seemed to escape and they went where they wanted to go. The fact that Rose had been here for years meant that she must hold the Starfire very close.
Jungkook had developed his own suspicions and theories about the Galaxis and he watched her carefully as he knelt next to her beside the bed. Hoseok was laid beneath the covers as usual, his face relaxed in sleep and almost innocent looking, his hair neatly brushed as if he’d simply gone to take a nap.
“Yes...it’s...well...I hope it works. I err...found something from an old...story I guess? About something that helped to speed up the waking process. I figured...we could at least try right?” He whispered quietly, oddly unwilling to raise his voice even though Hoseok wasn’t going to wake up just from that.
Instead, he focused on the soft glimmer of the steam as it rose from the air before looking back at Rose to find her watching him with a gentle smile. She rested a hand on his wrist, her touch both warm and cool at the same time and he took in her skin tone, so similar to the paste in the small bowl only more of a mix of white and gold.
“We can try. It may help.” Rose said quietly, gesturing towards Hoseok with a smile. Jungkook swallowed before nodding, taking the bowl and placing it on the empty space besides the magi’s head. He tilted Hoseok’s face slightly so that the steam was directed towards his nose before sitting back and chewing his lip nervously.
“What if it doesn’t help?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair in a gesture that he’d apparently picked up from Jimin. It felt good to do it though, a way for him to release this nervous energy without having to do anything else. He just felt so useless.
Rose rested a hand on his thigh, her face not reacting at all to what felt like lifelike muscles beneath the fabric and his skin and instead focused on his own eyes. They were a brilliant sapphire blue now while her long, luxurious hair had bled into an astonishingly beautiful mix of sky and navy blue. It was pretty on her, but Jungkook had long since decided all colours were pretty on Rose.
“It doesn’t matter, you’re trying. That’s what matters. The humans have a saying; it’s the thought that counts.” Jungkook snorts a laugh at that and Rose’s lips twisted wryly in response to his amusement.
“I think that’s supposed to be in relation to giving gifts, right?” She shrugged lightly, her dainty shoulders small yet filled with so much strength and power. He’d watched once as she’d lifted an astonishingly large and heavy box without so much as a wince or grunt.
“You’re giving him the gift of life back, or at least trying to. It counts. Every gesture anyone does is a gift, remember that. It may not always be positive, but it is always given freely, even if they do not believe it to be so.” Rose sounded so wise and worldly then, causing Jungkook to watch her with awe for a moment before he spoke without realising.
“Galaxis...your race...I...I know you don’t talk about it. But...I just...I have a theory. You don’t have to respond, just...let me say it and then we can pretend it never happened?” He pauses, watching as Rose’s elegant brows rise. “I...this may sound stupid if it’s not real but...I think you’re the physical representation of the galaxy. Or...at least one of them. Maybe there’s multiple. But...I don’t know. Your ability to navigate and always know where we are, the way you’re the colours of the galaxy, how...ancient and wise you seem. It’s like...a galaxy come to life.”
Jungkook is well aware that he sounds in awe, his voice hushed as he watches her intently and he sees a faint flush of pretty pink spread over her cheeks as she looks down at her hands. But her hair and eyes don’t change, still the colour of concentration before she looks back up at him.
“You are unique, Jeon Jungkook. Don’t ever let that curiosity die.” She responds quietly, neither confirming nor denying his suspicions. Yet Jungkook recognises that something enormous has occurred here and he notes the almost respect in her eyes as she looks back to Hoseok.
He turns back too, ready to sit vigilant next to the Galaxis and hope that the magi on the bed may wake up. But he has no need to, because he’s shooting forward before he even realises it, his fingers gripping the edge of the mattress tightly as excitement and relief floods his entire body.
“Hoseok!” Jungkook says loudly, his lips turning into a bright smile as he glances back to Rose. The man in question is blinking slowly, as if his eyelids are heavy with tiredness and sleep but he is blinking. He is awake. No longer asleep.
There’s complete silence in the room before Hoseok finally looks to the two figures next to him, his body weighed down with lethargy and exhaustion. Licking his lips a few times, he accepts the drink of cool water that Rose gives him before he coughs, the sound rough and harsh from a lack of use.
“Where is she?”
#armiesnet#networkbangtan#btscreatorsnet#btssunshineclub#hoseok fluff#hoseok angst#hoseok sci fi#hoseok x reader#hoseok x you#bts fluff#bts angst#bts sci fi#bts fanfic#bts fic#hoseok fic#hoseok fanfic#j hope fluff#j hope angst#j hope sci fi#j hope x reader#j hope x you
174 notes
·
View notes
Link
Another Part of my @badthingshappenbingo is done.
Part 10.
Square: Cry into chest.
Please check the end notes on AO3 and the bottom of this post for more detailed trigger warnings!
*+~
Raw around the edges
Clint startles awake with a gasp, shooting up into a sitting position with his heart beating too fast, reaching for the knife that’s always wedged in between the wall and the mattress. He looks around and realizes that he’s home, in his own bed. The uneasiness doesn’t quite disappear though. Despite the throbbing headache, pain all over and heavy weight on his chest, he forces himself to get out of the bed.
Slowly, too slowly really, he makes his way through the entire apartment, checking every single room, every hiding place and every door and window - it’s all secure, and he breathes a little more easily. His hand holding the knife is shaking, though. He sits down, trying to get his heartbeat and uneven breathing back under control.
‘They will come for you’ a mean voice in the back of his head whispers, and the tremors running through his body get worse.
He’s not entirely sure how long he just sits there, holding the stealth knife in a tight grip and trying to pull himself together. The apartment around him is silent, since it is still night or at least very early in the morning, but he can’t make it out - if there was anything really loud going on he might be able to tell, or if something was happening very close to him. But as it is, he sits in silence and stares ahead, unseeing and with his eyes glossed over. Clint is exhausted, and all he wants is to crawl back to bed, but it takes him a while to gather enough strength for the way.
Once he’s back under the covers, he notices the blink of his phone in between the sheets. He fishes it out, and is incredibly relieved to find that he’s got an answer from Phil. Multiple texts actually, the first one sent soon after Clint reached out, but he must have been too out of it to notice it then.
‘Are you OK? On the way back now, I’ll be there ASAP.’
Then, a few more texts follow, increasing worry clear in them since he never answered. Clint feels bad about that - he’s never sent a text like he did last night, never outright asked for help like this, and it must have freaked Phil out for sure.
His latest text is from two hours ago and it reads,
‘Got a hold of Nick, he told me what happened - I’ll be there soon, will call when I’m in the car.’
The relief is immediate, and Clint can feel his emotions bubble back up. He types a short reply.
‘ Fell asleep, sorry. Thanks Phil’
Instead of an text, he gets a call next and doesn’t need to look at the ID to know who it is. He pulls one of his hearing aids off the bedside table and answers the phone.
“Hey.” His voice sounds rough and unused.
“Hey. How are you?” Phil asks, worry clear in his voice, but it feels so good to hear him - it’s been too long since they talked or met, and Clint had missed his best friend the entire time. Hearing him now, the calm and familiar voice that helped him through so many fucked up missions and bad days is an instant relief.
“I’m alive.” he says, truthfully. He’s about to say more, but there is a lump in his throat, rising up painfully and he swallows it.
“It won’t take long, only a few minutes until I’m there.” Phil promises. Then, he asks, “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until then?”
Clint nods, even though Phil can’t see him right now, and he’s unable to hold back tears any longer. They’re hot and salty, dripping down onto the bed sheets while he fumbles on a lose thread with one hand.
“Please.” he says, and hates how desperate he sounds.
What exactly it is that Phil is talking about until he reaches the apartment building, Clint wouldn’t be able to tell. He's mostly focusing on the sound of his voice, the familiarity and comfort that it is. He’s never had many friends to begin with, but right now, it looks like Phil is the only person he’s got left. Trusting anybody else doesn’t feel right, and the thought of it nearly sends him panicking, for a number of different reasons.
But then, Phil says, “Okay, I’m outside now. Is it alright if I use the spare key you gave me?” and it kind of brings Clint back to reality. He looks up, pausing. Then he simply replies,
“Yeah, sure.”
It doesn’t take long at all until Phil is inside and announces that he’s right in front of the door, asking if it is okay to come in and waits for Clint to say something. Waiting, just to give him an option - the control to decide to let him in instead of being forced to accept a decision that isn’t his own. It’s a small thing, but it means the world to him.
“Come in. I’m upstairs.”
When Phil walks into the room, he sees Clint in the half dark and his heart drops. He is sitting on the bed, looking way smaller than he actually is. He’s hunched over, clearly exhausted and when he looks up at the movement by the door after Phil told him he’ll come in, even in the low light it is clear that he’s been crying.
Clint doesn’t say anything, just reaches out with one trembling hand and Phil settles down next to him - close but not yet touching, leaving that choice to Clint. But as soon as he’s there, he leans forward until he rests with his forehead against Phil’s chest, wrapping both arms around him and holding on for dear life.
Phil hugs back and holds him close, keeping his hands at an awkward angle as to not directly touch Clint with them. It seems to be the right call, judging from the way he presses close to him - trusting and vulnerable in a way he’d never allow himself to be around anyone else. Soon, he’s shaking and sobbing in his arms.
It’s all that Phil can do to hold him close and keep him from falling apart at the seams, as he patiently waits for the worst of the storm to pass.
He keeps talking to him in a low voice, about nothing and everything but most of all reassuring Clint that he’s safe and that it’s okay to let go. Phil knows from experience that he needs this kind of reassurance, permission really, for not having to hold back and process emotions when years and years before have taught him the opposite.
How long they remain like this, seated on the bed and wrapped around each other, neither of them would be able to tell.
Clint needs time to break down in peace and in a safe environment and despite the pain and the fear that is still lingering in his chest after everything, it feels good. He doesn’t have to watch his back and keep and eye on the surroundings, because he knows that Phil will do this for him for as long as he needs him to. So it’s safe to let go for a while.
When he is worn out and beyond exhausted from crying, he nearly dozes off, still firmly wrapped around Phil who let’s him cling. They end up laying down sideways and Clint falls asleep then, knowing that at least for now, he will be safe.
Clint ends up talking to Phil later, when the sun has vanished on the horizon and the cool night air is flowing through his apartment.
They’re seated on the couch, mugs of black coffee in their hands, and it feels good to focus on the warmth seeping through the porcelain.
He looks down and into the dark liquid, and his voice sounds far away, almost robotic as he starts talking about the mission, how it started out and how everything went wrong. The words and descriptions are clinical, without any attachment or emotion - it’s the only way he can get through this.
The fact that Phil knows at least the broad picture, has been filled in by Fury, helps a lot. But Clint doesn’t leave anything out this time.
He talks about the way the plan had been changed without his knowledge or consent, and how he was forced to go undercover in the first place.
He talks about the first encounter there and being strip searched, just a routine really, but traumatizing nonetheless - there are a number of reasons why he doesn’t usually do any work that requires close physical contact and Phil knows about them. After all, he was the one who pulled the right levers to protect Clint from these kinds of missions, always making sure he’ll get assigned to OPs that don’t require seduction or any kind of other intimate work.
Shit happens sometimes, they all know this. But at least they try and weed out the biggest risks in that regard. And even if Phil hadn’t insisted it be that way, there is no use in needlessly traumatizing an agent with certain, specific triggers and have him unable to do his job as a result. So SHIELD is usually accommodating of this sort of thing.
Clint talks about the man in his cell, about what happened there and what happened all those years ago when he first met him. He talks about old memories and recent reminders, both equally painful, and by the end of it his hands are shaking too much and he needs to put down his mug, to avoid pouring hot liquid all over himself. But he keeps going on, keeps talking even when his entire body is trembling.
He talks about pushing through and forcing himself to endure day after day in his own personal hell, even when he was convinced all of this has been a ploy to get rid of him. He's rushing through that particular part, because it hurts too much to linger there. Clint stops to take a deep breath when he finishes his report, trying to pull himself together. But he needs to ask, needs to know. So he does just that.
“Was this planned? Was all of... this” he gestures helplessly, “was all of this an attempt to get rid of me? I just, I know I’m not the easiest person to work with, and I know what people say behind my back. Dumb useless criminal and all that. Just… I need to know the truth. And I can’t trust anyone else. Please.”
He doesn’t look at Phil, not yet. He fiddles with the fabric of his pants, with pillows and blankets on the couch next to him - anything soft he can reach. Clint keeps breathing very carefully. If he doesn’t get this conversation done soon, he’ll start to freak out all over again. The lump in his throat is growing, and he dreads to hear an answer.
Phil, on the other hand, looks directly at him and he is stunned by the question. His answer is firm nonetheless, and he remains calm, even when he wants to tear something apart.
“Clint. Look at me, please.”
He does.
“None of this was planned, no one in any place of power want’s to remove you from the agency. I’m sorry this happened, but I promise you, no one ordered this. Taylor acted on his own. He was the one to give out your name and blame those crimes on you. We are looking into that, and Director Fury will update me as soon as he knows more, but you are safe with SHIELD and we will make this right. We will protect you. I will always protect you, Clint.”
His asset, one of SHIELD’s most capable and successful agents, but most of all, his best friend is sitting in front of him in a broken, hurting heap of a person. Silent tears are dripping into his lap and he looks back down, wringing the corner of a woolen blanket in his shaking hands. Clint is afraid for his life and safety after this, afraid to lose everything he’d worked and fought hard for in the past few years. And understandably so - anyone would be if they were in his position.
“Okay.” he says, but it doesn’t sound like he fully believes it.
If Phil ever finds out that any of this was caused by more than an incompetent, backstabbing handler and a lot of bad luck, then he will make people disappear.
As it is now, he still might - no one hurts who he cares about and gets away with it.
Then, Clint starts laughing. It’s far from happy, the polar opposite of it really - it sounds like he’s about to lose it at this point.
“I was actually dumb enough to think I could be anything other than a hired gun, or simply entertainment for some sick fuck. I thought that part of my life was over, but obviously not.”
He shakes his head, laughing once again while his eyes are dull and dark with a sadness that is creeping through every single cell in his body. Clint pulls in on himself, refusing to be touched when Phil quietly offers him comfort, in an desperate attempt to help.
The words keep pouring out of his mouth, and it’s like he has lost all control at this point. Clint is talking, choppy and out of breath. Cold sweat makes his clothes uncomfortably sticky against his skin and he’s freezing cold - he doesn’t care or do anything about it.
“I wanted to go. Fury wouldn’t let me. Said I should talk to someone.” He laughs again, and sounds more broken than ever. It’s even worse than before, when he’d spend many hours sobbing uncontrollably into the chest of Phil’s shirt.
“Sure, go talk to someone.” Clint spits out. “Let them find me to throw back into this hellhole. No big deal.”
Shaking his head once again, another awfully broken laugh leaves his throat and it turns into desperate, hysterical sobs.
He buries his hands in his shaggy blond hair, tugging on it and slightly rocking himself back and forth. He’s out of it, doesn’t seem to notice he’s even doing it. But he’s barely holding onto sanity with his fingertips.
Phil needs to sit on his hands. Everything in him, every instinct is screaming at him to do something, to comfort, hold him close and to protect. But Clint has made it clear that he doesn't want to be touched right now, and he will respect that. Instead of invading his space, he keeps talking to him. Repeated assurances that he is safe, mostly.
After a while, he seems to get through to him, and the muttering stops, as does the rocking. Clint leans closer to him again, and Phil asks if it is okay to come closer, getting a nod in response. He carefully, slowly, wraps both arms around his best friend once again, and despite everything, Clint is leaning into the gentle touch and hugging back as hard as he can, refusing to let go.
It is a long and hard way to go from there, but it’s a start.
Over time, Phil manages to get through to him enough that he finally believes that no one is after him anymore, which is big. He also helps him find a professional to talk to, to work through old and new issues that this mission has brought to light - some days are worse than others, and Clint has a hard time trusting then. But Phil is right there, helping him in any way he can.
One day after a therapy session, Clint tells him over coffee,
“I don’t know if I want to go back.”
Phil nods, knowing exactly what he’s talking about and waiting for him to go on.
“I don’t know yet. But I might.” he admits then and drinks a few sips of his coffee in silence. He sits with his legs folded up under him and in a cozy corner of Phil’s couch. It’s evening, but time means little to him these days. And he needs the caffeine to stay alert, even more now than he did before.
Phil nods again, considering his words for a moment.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to rush that decision.” is what he settles on - it’s vague enough for Clint to choose on his own terms how much he wants to say about the matter right now. He hums into his mug, thinking about that for a moment.
“It’s just-” he begins, and it looks like he might leave the sentence unfinished. But then he thinks better of it and continues,
“I still don’t know for sure who I can trust. Don’t wanna test that, really. But I also worked my ass off to get where I was - am. Whatever. Don’t wanna lose that, or waste anything.” Clint is chewing on his bottom lip for a few moments, and Phil waits patiently for him to get his thoughts in order and to continue on his own terms. This is how a lot of their conversations go these days, but it works out and that is all that counts, really.
“Don’t wanna lose you, most of all.” Clint quietly admits then and he doesn’t look up.
“You won’t lose me, no matter what you want to do in the end. Just so you know. I’ll have your back and support you regardless of your employment at SHIELD.” Phil looks over at his friend, who is slowly but steadily healing and getting better. He’d do anything for Clint - he’s known that before, but he’s even more certain of it now.
Phil has had the opportunity to deal with Agent Taylor shortly after his return - this man won’t do harm to anyone else, never again. He also made sure that Taylor will be neither found nor missed.
“You mean a lot to me, Clint.” Phil says then, and the younger man smiles at that. It's a small, real smile that actually reaches his eyes.
“You, too. Thanks by the way. For being there.” he replies, and leans over to rest his head on Phil for a moment. In response, he simply wraps an arm around him and leans back into him - the two of them don’t need a lot of words.
“Anytime.”
*+~
Square: Cry into chest
*+~
Trigger warnings:
- Nothing graphic, but Rape Aftermath - Breakdown, mental health issues, PTSD - Trauma processing - paranoia
#banashee writes#bad things happen bingo#marvel fanfiction#hurt/comfort#angst#tw rape mention#tw mental health issues
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Scooby and the Gang having quirks? That would be cool. Like, four superpowered kids and their probably also superpowered dog are amateur detectives instead of heroes. But they frequently run into other pro heroes, (like Scooby Doo team up) and have to help in anyway they can without breaking any quirk related laws. (Which they probably already do on a daily basis but they dont want to do that around pros, could get arrested.)
The signs had been there for quite a while, but none of them had picked up on them. At the time it seemed like another internet hoax. A baby that glowed in Japan. A woman who could create ice in Italy. But in the age of video editing, no one took them too seriously.
It didn’t become real for the gang until about a year and a half after the glowing baby started the craze of people declaring they had super powers. They had been on a road trip and Fred had been repairing a tire when his lug wrench snapped.
“Oh no,” he moaned. A spare tire he had, a spare wrench no so much. “I think we need to call the auto service."
“Like, let me.” Shaggy made a gesture like he was pulling something from thin air and grasped an identical wrench from the air.
“How did you do that?” Fred asked, impressed. “You’re wearing short sleeves, so you couldn’t have been hiding it up them.”Shaggy shrugged. “Like dunno, man. I want something, I reach for it, and it’s there.”
“Very funny, Shaggy.” Velma plucked the wrench from his hand. “Carbon steel, just like Fred’s old one.”
“You can tell, just by looking?” Fred asked, even more impressed.
“Certainly. It’s not that hard, you just focus on something and you can tell, you know?”
“No.” came the response from all of them.
“Really?” Velma asked, surprised. “It’s really not that hard.”
“It’s not that it’s ‘not that hard’, Velma. It’s flat out impossible.” Daphne explained, leaning out the Mystery Machine’s window.
“No, it’s not. I do it all the time.” Velma argued back.
“Hey, do you think this could be related to that superhero thing?” Fred asked, a note of excitement in his voice. “With people randomly developing super powers?”
“Fred, that’s not a real thing.” Velma rolled her eyes.
“Well, why don’t you test out whether Shaggy’s ‘power’ works while Fred fixes the wheel.” Daphne offered.
“I’m telling you super powers don’t exist.”
~
“I can’t believe this exists.” Velma said with tonelessly as she looked at the building in front of her
“Like me either.” Shaggy shuddered. “Like in comic books the government creating a registration list for supers always precedes real bad stuff.”
“At least you guys have it easy.” Fred pointed out “Tell them your power, demonstrate, then you get your registration card. Daph and I have to go through a whole battery to figure out if we even have a power.”
“I guess we meet up back here when we’re done.” Daphne gave them all a hug. “Good luck everyone.”
~
“I have a power!” Daphne ran out, waving a tiny plastic card. “You know how I haven’t been falling into trap doors as much anymore? I have some kind of radar and I’ve been subconsciously sensing the right way to go.”
“That’s great,” Velma said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster for the laws of physics breaking further.
Daphne knew how she felt, though, and didn’t take offense. “Shaggy’s not out yet? I figured he’d be fast, like you.”
“He was. But someone heard Scooby talking and turns out that’s not normal. So now they’re investigating animals developing powers.”
“What even is normal?” Daphne wondered out loud.
“Not the same as it was five years ago,” Velma agreed sadly.
It was about half an hour later before Fred came out. “Hey, where’re the guys?”“Sweet Freedom!” Shaggy and Scooby all but bounded out of the building.
“That took a while. They really weren’t ready for a dog with powers, were they?” Daphne smiled.
“Nah, they took that pretty well. Even had a metal working guy who could make a dog tag for him.”
Scooby moved his tag aside to reveal a new one under it, identifying him as a Class C Shapeshifter.
“Class C?” Velma inquired.
“Minor body changes, can’t change color.” Shaggy shrugged. “What kept us so long was the lectures.” he groaned.
“Lectures? What lectures?” Daphne looked to Velma and Fred to see if they had any idea what Shaggy was talking about.“‘Creating cash is still counterfeiting’, ‘Don’t make enough gold to crash the economy’. And like, it was heavily hinted I should go easy on making jewels and stuff.”
“I guess your power is kind of easy to abuse.” Fred admitted.
Daphne put a hand on Shaggy’s shoulder. “Diamond’s values are artificially inflated so make as many as you want.”
“Like, I’d rather just go get a hamburger or twelve.”
“At least something still makes sense.” Velma muttered.
“This is really bugging you, isn’t it?” Fred asked.
“Of course it is! Superpowers make no sense. Everyone in the world getting random ones? Even less sense. This is not something science can explain.”
“Yet” Fred added. “This isn’t something Science can explain yet. They’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe you’ll be at the forefront of the discovery.”
Velma gave a weak smile. “You always know what to say, Jones. Come one, let’s get Shaggy his burgers before he wastes away to nothing.”
Shaggy and Scooby were in the back of the Mystery Machine before anyone could say anything else.
The others laughed and headed to the van. Fred was secretly relieved that everything had distracted his friends from the small plastic card in his wallet. For the most part it was the same as theirs, Photo, State ID Number, Date of birth. The only difference was next to Power: was the word ‘None’.
~
“I suppose it would become inevitable that the bad guys started using their powers,” Daphne sighed as the illusionist was packed into the back of the police car.
“But we solved it anyway.” Velma was grinning. “We just needed to expand on what we previously considered was possible.”
“And, like, we even did it before the heroes showed up.” Shaggy grinned. Probably the most predictable thing in all this were the real life superheroes starting to show up. New laws were being shaped, but right now it was a little bit of chaos. Still, they lived in a world with superheroes and Shaggy couldn’t help but think that was cool.
Two officers approached them. “Looks like everything all wrapped up. We just need to straighten up something on you statements.” The younger one said kindly.
“On your statements you were asked to write down your powers, but one of you didn’t see the need to comply.” The older glared at Fred who shrunk away.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just-”
“Tell me what your power is, now.”
Fred felt his mind haze over. “I don’t have one. I’m just normal.”
The cop raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? That must feel pretty terrible.”
“It does. I feel like dead weight weighing everyone down.”
“For the love of God, Frank, knock it off.” The younger cop shook his partner and the cloud lifted from Fred’s mind.
He snapped back into reality and realized the gang had closed ranks around him. Velma and Daphne were on either side, Shaggy behind him with a hand on his shoulder, and Scooby in front of him, hackles raised. Then he remembered what the cop had made him say and felt shame start to well up inside him. Sure he had been jealous, but it was okay as long as he never voiced those feelings. Only now someone had taken control of his tongue and forced the words out.
“We should be fine, why don’t you kids head on home.” The younger cop waved them off and pulled his partner away.
“You know none of us think you’re dead weight, don’t you Fred?” Daphne asked softly.
“I know. It’s just in my head.” Fred had never felt so small in his life. “Can we go home? Please?”
~
The Gang never brought the incident up again. They’d never been specially showy with their powers (or quirks as they were coming to be known), mostly out of deference to Velma’s discomfort. Now it was complete radio silence. Fred was grateful on one level that his friends were that considerate over something so amazing, but still wished Officer Frank had never made him say anything. He couldn’t help resenting the man, and had taken to letting Velma do most of the talking to law enforcement. He felt a little cowardly over it, but figured with Scooby and Shaggy scared of everything under the sun he was allowed this.
They had just figured out the mystery of the ‘Banshee’ haunting the old shack and were at Fred’s favorite part - setting the trap.
“Okay, I think all we need is about a foot more twine and I think this trap is set.” Fred looked at his handiwork proudly.
“Like, bad news, Fred. We’re out of twine.” Shaggy said sadly.
“What do you mean out of twine?” Fred asked. It didn’t make sense. Sure Shaggy couldn’t conjure something like an engine, but twine was barely any effort.
“I brought up everything in the Mystery Machine. There’s none left, man.” Shaggy shrugged.
“But can’t you just make more?”
“Oh. I, like, don’t do that anymore.” Shaggy hunched his shoulders a bit.
“What do you mean you don’t do that anymore? That’s your quirk. It’s- wait.” He thought none of them were talking about their powers. What if-? “Did you guys stop using your powers, because of me?”
The silence that met him told him all he needed to know. “Okay, no. We are not doing this.”
“Fred, if our having quirks make you feel bad, then we don’t need them. You’re way more important to us than that.” Daphne insisted.
“Look. Yes, I’m upset that I don’t have a power. I’ll even go so far as to say I’m jealous that you guys do. But at no point did I want you guys to feel like you had to give up your powers. I mean, there’s plenty else to be jealous of. Velma, you’re so brilliant, sometimes I feel like I can barely add two and two together. It’s hard not to feel plain when Daphne lights up a room with her amazing personality and ability to coordinate an outfit to look as amazing on the outside as she is on the inside. And it would definitely be nice to be able to eat twice my body weight and never worry about gaining a pound like Shag and Scooby do.”
“But I would never want Velma to dumb herself down, Daphne to make herself dull, or Shaggy and Scooby to not eat as much. Because those are quirks of being you, and your powers are a part of that now. You’re all so amazing, and now you’re even more amazing, and I don’t want to take any of that away from you. I know my insecurities are all in my head, but if you guys have to give up parts of yourself for me? Then I really am weighing you down and I refuse to let that happen. Ever.”
Before he knew what was happening, Fred found himself in the middle of a group hug.
“Oh hey, What do you know? Looks like we had more twine after all.” Shaggy slipped the couple of feet of twine he had conjured into Fred’s hand.
“Great.” Fred grinned. “Let’s go catch us a banshee.”
~
“They’re approaching fast. Shaggy and Scooby are about ten yards away. The Banshee is a yard behind them.” Daphne had her eyes shut as she concentrated on the image her radar was sending her.
“Let us know when they’re clear.” Fred held one rope and Velma the other. With Daphne’s quirk, it was easy to avoid accidentally capturing the boys in their traps.
“Now!”
As Shaggy and Scooby sailed past, Fred and Velma pulled and the Banshee was launched off the floor and into a net, which twisted around before being deposited in a hay baler, leaving the banshee trapped and unable to move.
“Call it in, guys. We got her.”
Soon enough the police arrived, along with a token force from the Hero’s Union.
“As you can see, we’ve caught the so-called Banshee terrorizing the area. Or should I say, Lanie Mayfair.” Velma pulled the mask off the so-called banshee. “She claimed she’d never gone near Baker’s Shack for fear of the banshee, but the soil on her shoes was the exact composition of the mud outside the shack. The feeling of dread and fear people reported were actually a low level psychic quirk that inspired those feelings.” That’s why they had to call in the Hero’s Union. Any crime with quirks used had to go through them. “The Banshee’s wail was prerecorded, and played over a series of speakers, including one hidden in the Banshee’s choker.”
“But we checked the records when the reports first came in. No one currently in the area has a quirk like that.” One of the Hero’s Union reps pointed out.
“Because she kept it a secret. I bet if you looked up Lanie’s records her power would be listed as ‘None’. Lanie’s an experienced conwoman. She knew how useful her quirk would be and pretended not to have one during registration. A quirk like that would be easy to overlook since it wouldn’t produce a visible or physical effect.”
“Very good Velma. But you’re wrong on one count.” Lanie grinned nastily. “It’s not a minor psychic quirk.” That was all the warning they got before a wave of pure despair shot out of her.
Fred felt his knees buckling under him. All those insecurities Frank had brought up, his lower self worth, jealousy, and guilt over being jealous, flooded to the surface once more. But he shoved it down. He had laid those demons to rest. He looked up and noticed everyone else wasn’t faring so well, not even the police or heroes. Most looked full of despair, with some weeping openly. Fred thought Shaggy was doing a little better, only to realize that while he didn’t look miserable, he didn’t look anything, as if there was no life in him.
“See how pathetic you are?” Lanie asked haughtily. “How completely wretched and worthless your life is?”
“Don’t you dare say that about any of them!” Fred snarled, rising to his feet. “My friends are the most amazing people on the planet! They’ve - we’ve put away dozens of low end criminals like you away. I mean, look at you. We’ve got you trapped and your quirk certainly isn’t going to help you escape. Seems we’re doing better than you.”Lanie’s jaw had dropped and the others were starting to rouse from whatever stupor they had been put into.
“We need to get to Fred.” Velma, who had been nearest to Lanie, forced herself up and pushed herself off the baler and towards him. On the way she grabbed Daphne and pulled her along. Shaggy had snapped out of his unresponsive state and he and Scooby were closing ranks too. Fred didn’t think he need the protection, she was still stuck in the bale, after all, but he appreciated having his friends by his side.
“You’re finished Lanie, and your two-bit quirk isn’t going to save you,” Daphne snapped, anger clear in her voice.
“Lanie...Mayfair.” One of the fallen heroes was back on his feet, though shaky. He headed towards the gang. “This is your only warning. Release your quirk.”
“No! How are you doing this?! All of you should be lost to despair! How can you even move!?”
The hero lifted his hand and there was a small zap before Lanie started twitching and the feeling of despair vanished completely. “Alchemist, we’re going to need to keep this one sedated.”
“Right.” The other hero touched Lanie gently. “That should keep her out for the next few hours.” She turned to Fred. “Thank you for your assistance. Without your help, this would have been a mess.”
“I just snapped out of it first.” Fred shrugged. “I was just lucky.”
“Fred, you didn’t just snap out of it first, you drove it back.” Velma corrected. “That’s why I wanted to get everyone near you, you were canceling out the effect.”
“How? I mean I don’t have powers, they ran a bunch of tests to make sure I didn’t have powers. How could I cancel out the effect?”
“We do need a better way to test for Psychic quirks,” Alchemist commented while the police officer worked on getting Lanie out of the bale. “If that’s two missed right here.”
“Two? But I-”
“Fred, you do have a power, it’s just the opposite of that witch’s.” Daphne explained. “I could feel it battling hers, driving away the darkness it was putting in my mind. The closer I got to you, the stronger I felt.”
“Like, no wonder we missed it.” Shaggy laughed. “Feeling better when you’re around just sounds like a side effect of being around you.”
“I...have a power?” Fred couldn’t keep the raw hope out of his voice.
“You do indeed.” Taser clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s obvious that, unlike Mayfair, you took the tests in good faith. But I think you need to get your registration straightened out as soon as possible.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, Sir!”
~
“I can’t believe this is real.” Fred stared down at the card in his hands. It was identical to the one he’d been carrying around for months, only instead of the word ‘None’ next to Power: it said ‘Morale Boost’.
It wasn’t a flashy or powerful quirk. Certainly not something a hero in a comic book would have. But it was his quirk. Something he had that could help his friends. And he wouldn’t trade it for any other power in the world.
#Ghost Writing#Scooby Doo#BNHA#Decided to set this during Gen 0#So we have registration cards and the Heroes Union instead of Pro heroes#and why they wouldn't know the the trick to telling an individual with a undetected quirk from someone with none#I decided to go with the quirks I had given the gang in a recent ask and realized iding Fred's would be pretty hard#and th plot went from there#Anonymous
161 notes
·
View notes