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bluejay-writes · 1 month ago

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MysticTober 2024 Day 8/9: His Muse

You can read this over on Ao3 if you’d prefer.

Rating: T

Prompt: Jihyun x MC / Painting || Fate / Lie

WordCount: 8028

Summary: Jihyun needs a muse for his new painting collection. Author's Notes: So, Day 8 got away from me and became both that and day 9. Sorry it's a day late... but not sorry it's over 8000 words.

Hen knocked on the studio door, then stood and fidgeted nervously with the strings of her hoodie. She’d replied to this advertisement on the Art Department’s bulletin board for a model, specifically one who could stand for long periods of time without moving. Honestly, she was pretty sure that most people these days just took reference photos and painted from that, but if some student wanted to pay her an exorbitant-seeming amount of money to stand in one place with her clothes on (the ad had been very specific that while there would be an outfit provided, it was modest), she wasn’t about to complain.

Her friends had been on her case about applying. She’d always wanted to be a model, but she wasn’t model material. She was in that nebulous middle-point, Far too big to be a classic fashion model, but still too small to be an acceptable plus-size model. And she didn’t hate her body by any means. So she let them nag her into it. She’d sent what the flier asked for. Her name (preferred, even, not even her wallet name) and then a headshot and a full body shot. She’d tried to be as confident as she could while her friends took photos for her, but even now, having landed the job, she was nervous.

What if he was a creep? Art students could be anyone really, and…

The door opened to reveal a man in wire-frame glasses with teal hair and eyes and a warm smile. Wait a minute…

“V?!” Hen had studied his pictures for one of her photography classes, they’d done a unit on current artists, and…

He chuckled looking chagrined. “Call me Jihyun, please.” He led her inside and shut the studio door again before continuing. “V did photos. I’m… well, I’ve moved on from that and I’m pursuing painting, which has been my passion far longer, though I didn’t have the guts to change mediums until recently.”

“Oh.” Hen said, just as awkwardly as she felt. “I didn’t mean to be rude, I…”

“Not rude.” Jihyun interrupted. “I was V. I am still, technically, that same man. I simply am using my given name now.”

He sighed, and shook himself loose from whatever thought seemed to be plaguing him. “We got off on the wrong foot.” He held out his hand for her to shake. “Hi, I’m Jihyun Kim, the artist who will be painting you for the next few hours.”

She took his hand with a grin and a firm shake. “I’m Hen. And I’m very good at standing still.”

The outfit that he’d chosen for her to wear was very fantasy. Flowing skirts, a corseted belt over a lightweight top. She felt like a peasant girl in a magic world, and she loved it. He’d positioned her standing at a window, and she’d gotten to people-watch campus while he painted her. She’d expected a need to be quiet or mostly still, but he told her to go ahead and fidget if she needed to, and kept her engaged in a number of different light topics as he worked, almost as though he was trying to keep her entertained.

Eventually, as the light was waning, Jihyun stood. “Alright, that’s time. Thank you so much for all of your help today.” He smiled. “Do you need assistance with the belt or anything else getting back out of the costume?”

Hen waved him off. “Nah, I’m good. Give me two shakes and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Once she was back to her normal self, she was sad to see that Jihyun had already closed up his work, so that she couldn’t see it. He immediately spotted her looking, however.

“I’ll show you when it’s done. I was intending to invite you to whatever gallery it shows in, of course, as the model.”

Hen grinned. “It would be my honor!”

Jihyun handed her the envelope containing her payment, all smiles. “Honestly, Miss Hen, you’re an amazing model. May I call on you again for another piece? Same terms, but the next one likely won’t be standing.”

Hen nodded, she’d had a great time, and the pay was definitely worth it. “I’d love to.” She said, honestly. “I enjoyed today!”

Jihyun nodded, and they parted ways. Hen couldn’t help but smile, her friends were going to be so surprised when she told them she might even get a callback.

The second time that Hen stood as a model for Jihyun had her sitting on a bench in an awkward position. It was uncomfortable at first, but she made it work. Eventually, Jihyun admitted to her that the piece involved the woman sitting in a tree, but he couldn’t justify making her sit somewhere ostensibly dangerous for hours on end, so he’d made the bench setup like the branch he had in mind. Once he explained that to her, she found it much easier to settle into a pose that was actually useful for him.

She may have caught him grumbling to himself about wasting less time if he could just trust her more. She didn’t blame him, of course, Artists were often secretive, and she knew it was hard to trust someone you didn’t really know. Goodness knows she’d only met this man twice and definitely didn’t trust him with anything personal, so she didn’t blame him. Not even a little.

When the time was up and Jihyun started cleaning up, Hen realized she was stiff as she changed back out of the costume.

“Hey, Jihyun, do you mind if I do some stretches on the floor here before I head out? I’m a little bit stiff.”

“Ah. Go right ahead. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. Your stiffness is the consequence of my art, after all.

Hen sank to the ground, grateful that she’d worn leggings today instead of jeans. She worked her way through some yoga poses, careful of the fact that she didn’t have a mat of any variety, only realizing she was humming as she finished the last of the stretches because of Jihyun’s quiet chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re so comfortable in my studio.” He said, chuckling.

Hen blushed even as she nodded. “You make it easy, Jihyun. This is by far the highlight of my week.”

“Even with the odd held poses?” He was surprised.

“Even so.” Hen nodded. “I’d be honored if you wanted to call me in again.”

Jihyun smiled so brightly at that, Hen couldn’t help but smile in return.

The next sitting was more stereotypical, and Hen couldn’t hold back her giggles as Jihyun helped her pose in a very Ancient Grecian looking gauzy dress while half-laying on a chaise lounge.

“What is it?”

“It’s just… if you told someone they were going to model for a painting, they’d probably imagine something like this.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Yes, I suppose it might be. I hope that the outcome of the painting far exceeds my pedestrian posing layouts.

“I’m certain it will.” Hen had no doubts that the man had an impressive artistic eye - his photographs were stunning enough that she’d written an entire paper on them her freshman semester of college. Sure, her major had nothing to do with art, but one didn’t see one of V’s photos and not know the man was gifted. “If nothing else, Jihyun, it’s fine to have one simpler piece in a collection.”

He chuckled, and Hen settled in to hold her position. It was surprisingly comfortable, and she knew it wasn’t going to be too difficult, especially because he was good about giving her breaks.

For the first time in their sessions, Jihyun was quiet and focused on the painting, which gave Hen time to think about everything going on in her classes, in life, in that book she was reading… eventually she started to feel sleepy. She knew she should say something, get up and take a walk, get some water, anything so that she didn’t cause a problem for Jihyun.

Instead, she found herself drifting off to sleep while watching him paint with the most blissfully calm look on his face that she’d ever seen on another human being.

What felt like a blink and also an eternity later, Hen woke to the soft shake of a shoulder, Jihyun crouched down next to her.

“Hey, Miss Hen.”

She startled, coming to consciousness all at once. “Oh, no, Jihyun! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“It’s alright, you held the pose I needed, and you just looked so happy I couldn’t bear to wake you. Good dreams, I hope?”

Hen shook her head, holding a hand to her chest to will her heart to calm down from its momentary panic. “No dreams. One minute I was watching you paint, and the next you were waking me up. I feel insanely well rested though. Probably going to be up late tonight.” She chuckled.

“Hm, I should have been responsible and woken you.” He sighed, but continued before Hen could argue. “Would you let me take you to dinner as an apology?”

“What time is it?” Hen asked, sitting up properly so she could stretch the sleep out of her bones.

“Just about six.” Jihyun said, backing up to give her space.

“I could do dinner, I don’t have any other plans.” She said, and the smile that bloomed across his face warmed her soul. Yeah, she’d do a lot just to see that smile more.

Dinner was lovely. They went to a little hole-in-the-wall bibimbap restaurant that seemed to know Jihyun well, but wasn’t so expensive as to make Hen feel out of place. It was even on an easy bus route home again, so she wasn’t even particularly going out of her way, either.

They chatted over dinner about this and that, nothing important, the same calm, cheerful kinds of conversations that they usually had while he was painting. That just cemented for Hen that Jihyun was just like that and he wasn’t just chatting to keep her from getting bored. It made her wonder why he wasn’t chatty during their session today, but by the time they got to a break in conversation where she might have asked, she’d already forgotten.

When the bill came, Hen snatched it away before Jihyun could pick it up, and handed the whole bill to their waitress - a granny who she suspected was simply the owner of the place - with a smile. The granny even turned a look on Jihyun like she was surprised he was letting her pay. Jihyun looked stunned. “Hen, you don’t need to buy my dinner.”

“But I want to.” She smiled. “We’re friends, now, right?”

Jihyun smiled in that way that made her feel alight, and she blushed and fidgeted with her hoodie strings. By the time she realized it, the granny had gone and come back… and she was only paying for her half of dinner. Jihyun smirked at her, and Hen wondered if she’d been played. As they packed up to leave, Jihyun’s phone started ringing, and his face took on an ominous look.

“Sorry, you head on home, I have to take this… and it might be awhile.”

Hen nodded and waved, waving again to the granny on her way out.

That had been a fun dinner. She hoped his phone call wasn’t too painful.

It had been a few months since Hen sat for Jihyun, and almost as long since she’d heard from the man. She’d thought it was Fate when they met and hit it off that well, even just professionally, but then he’d disappeared. Hen tried to convince herself that it was fine, but at this point even she would admit she was moping. She really enjoyed his company, and couldn’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong. Had accepting his dinner invitation been too forward? But she’d even paid for her own meal… Hen had been worrying about this, of course, for weeks now, with only her coursework to keep her mind occupied and off of her presumed faux pas, whatever it might be. And unfortunately, winter break had just started so she had an entire month to mope about and worry about a problem with no guarantee of resolution.

At least she had her favorite coffee shop to curl up and read in. She usually got tea, but today she splurged on an extra sugary coffee drink, and the woman behind the counter chuckled. “Am I celebrating with you or commiserating, Hen?”

“Ugh.” Hen grumbled.

“Commiserating it is!” The woman behind the counter quietly put an extra pump of caramel into the drink - Hen didn’t comment, not sure if it was intentional, but she wasn’t going to turn down more caramel goodness.

An hour or so later, Hen’s reading was interrupted by someone sitting down across from her. She ignored them for a moment, but when they didn’t move she put her bookmark in and looked up, only to let out a surprised squeak as she realized the person sitting there was none other than Jihyun, patiently waiting for her to pause.

Before she could say anything, the woman behind the counter appeared and set a coffee down in front of him. “Don’t scare away my regulars, Jihyun.” She said sternly, then returned behind the counter.

Before Hen could say anything, Jihyun immediately spoke up.

“I’m so glad that I found you.” He winced. “I threw my phone in the ocean in a fit of temper. Did you know that there is such a thing as backing up your contacts? I… did not do this thing. And as such, I had to simply hope to run into you. It took some time.”

He slid a brand new phone across the table to her. “My friend set it up so I can’t do that again, even if I do something as stupid as throwing my phone into the ocean again. May I have your number again?”

Hen sighed, and immediately added herself as a contact. “So you’re saying you didn’t respond to my texts not because you were upset with me, but because you didn’t know who they were from?” She looked over at her phone as the message she sent herself pinged in as an unknown number.

Jihyun had the grace to look embarrassed. “I needed a new number.”

“Did something happen?” Hen added his new number to her contacts, and changed the old one to read “Davy Jones’ Locker”, just in case some fish tried to text her later.

Jihyun sighed. “The unreasonable unbelievable drama that is my life simply continues to happen.” He took a sip of his drink and sighed happily. Jaehee could really make a mean latte.

Hen chuckled. “Everyone’s got some weird rats in their closet, I swear. I’m glad you reappeared, I was worried.”

“You were?” His eyes lit up for a moment, but then dimmed. “I’m sorry, Miss Hen. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Hey, it’s fine, you reappeared before I could mope myself into a corner.”

“Why would you be moping?” Jihyun was clearly confused.

“Well, I mean, I bullied my way into paying for my own dinner and then you disappeared. I was sure I’d said something stupid, or maybe that I shouldn’t have gone to dinner.”

“God, no, Hen. That dinner was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, I just had to leave for a trip the next morning…”

“His not wanting you to pay is just some misplaced chivalry.” The counter lady said, stopping by to leave a to-go cup refill of Hen’s coffee. “This one’s on the house. For celebrating this time, and for putting up with him.” She winked, and Jihyun looked scandalized.

“Jaehee! Are you buying my… are you buying Hen’s loyalty with coffee now?”

The woman - Jaehee apparently - cackled. “Yes.” The look she was wearing told Hen that she had no idea what their relationship was, and was assuming all kinds of things that Hen didn’t want to have to be the one to dissuade her from.

“Listen…” Jihyun took a deep breath. “Between the trip and needing to find you back, I’m way behind on painting work, and the gallery’s already booked. You wouldn’t happen to be… staying in town for winter break? I could book you… a lot… if you had time.” He looked like he expected her to say no, like he was already letting himself down before she could.

“I’m so game.” she said, laughing awkwardly. “I have, well, nothing going on for the next month until classes start up again.”

“No family events, or friend things, or…” Jihyun looked surprised.

“Nope. Just lil ol me and my TBR.”

“TBR?”

“To Be Read. All the books I haven’t read this past semester because of classwork.”

Jihyun laughed at his own expense. “I should have known what that was. Fair, fair. Um.” He took a deep breath. “So, I can’t use my campus studio during break. Would you be okay coming to my apartment? It’s safe, I promise, and if you don’t feel safe you can leave, I won’t be upset.” Hen nodded, but winked at him before calling out to Jaehee behind the counter. “Hey Jaehee, can I trust this guy?”

Jihyun paled as though he had no idea what Jaehee would say.

“With your life.” Jaehee responded, without a pause. “But if you need an emergency text check-in hit me up before you leave.” Something relaxed in Jihyun, and Hen wondered if he’d let her give him a hug, but the moment was lost when he stood and bussed her empty mug.

Jihyun’s apartment was the 79th floor of an 80-floor high rise building. The entire 79th floor. Well, apparently his apartment was half of it and the other half was studio space, but still. She went directly to the windows and looked out over downtown, her eyes shining when she looked back at him.

“Jihyun, we should have done that first painting here…. this is such a great view!!” The painter smiled. “I’m glad you think that, actually… because I was hoping to do a triptych of that one, and so I’d need you to stand for two more at windows, and, well…”

He looks so nervous! Hen thought, and smiled, shaking her head and then nodding.

“Listen, Jihyun. I will sit for you to paint as often as you need me this month, as long as I don’t starve to death, and get to sleep properly.”

“That’s a low bar. I’m still going to pay you. Same rates. Also, since we’re not on campus I’m covering at least one meal a sitting. No arguments or pulling what you did at Yu’s!”

Hen blushed. “I still think it was only fair.”

Jihyun laughed, and walked over to a closet. “So, this closet has the outfits for the other…” he winced. “Four paintings I have in mind.”

“That’s only like one a week, do you have other obligations? We both already know I don’t.”

Jihyun chuckled. “Well, I can get the part of the work I need you modeling for done in our usual 6-hour blocks, so we could do those, say… every other day? That should give me plenty of time for finishing work on all of them and still be able to get them to the gallery on time.”

“Do you want to start today, since I’m here?”

Jihyun looked at the clock. “Only if you let me buy lunch and take you to dinner after.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Kim.” He raised an eyebrow, and she relented. “Yes, okay, okay. I want to see your gallery look good. I don’t know why you’re not the one begging here.”

Jihyun blinked. “I… really should be, shouldn’t I? You’re too good to me, Miss Hen.”

“Just call me Hen. It’s already a nickname.”

“It is? No wonder I couldn’t find you.”

Hen laughed so hard she sat down abruptly on the floor. “Jihyun Kim. You seriously thought my given name was Hen. Like a chicken.”

“Yes. Why would I assume otherwise?”

Hen just made flustered hand motions while she laughed at him.

“It’s Henrietta.” She said, once she could breathe properly. “Henrietta Chatham.”

“I like Hen better.” Jihyun said through a pout.

“Me too! That’s why I introduce myself that way! If you start calling me Miss Henrietta, I’ll quit.”

“Please don’t.” Jihyun said, helping her up off the floor. “Hen.”

She blushed at their proximity, and turned toward the closet so he wouldn’t notice. “So, which outfit first?”

Jihyun pulled out an outfit that was leggings and a leotard and a cropped leather jacket. “Cyberpunk? Or 80s Workout?” She asked, and as usual he gave her a shrug. No insight from the artist. No hints. No spoilers. She would get to see the paintings at the gallery opening with everyone else, and no sooner.

Hen was changing back into her regular clothes when she heard a knock at the door. Grateful that this wasn’t her house and thus she was spared from needing to rush to get clothes on and the inevitable falling over that would come with it, Hen simply continued at her leisurely undressing and redressing pace… which also meant she was able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Ah, good evening, Jihyun.” A warm baritone that matched V’s friendly tenor practically sang into the apartment.

“Jumin. Good to see you well. What can I help you with?”

“Miss Kang told me you found your muse.”

“I did. At Jaehee’s coffee shop, no less. I owe her.”

Muse? Does he consider me his Muse?? Hen felt her cheeks heat as she considered what that meant, if it meant anything. She hurried a little bit faster to get herself put back together.

“Well, I suppose you shouldn’t have any problems getting five more pieces done in time for the gallery opening, assuming she’s amenable to sitting for more paintings?”

She heard Jihyun laugh as she opened the bathroom door and made her way over to the costume closet without even glancing at the door.

“I’d say she is, we already got one session in today.” His volume changed as he turned and called out to her. “Hen, come over here when you’re done there, would you?”

She turned, surprised to see that Jihyun’s guest was in a three-piece suit, albeit one decorated with white cat fur.

“Hi.” She said, holding out a hand. “I’m Hen.”

He shook her hand, professional to a T. “Jumin Han.” Then, he turned back to Jihyun. “You should tell Luciel you’ve found her so he stops sending photos of random chickens to the chat and asking if they’re her. He’s been at it for approximately two hours now.”

Hen couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “Seriously?! Will you show me? We can pick which chicken looks most like me.”

JIhyun smiled that smile she loved so much. “We can look over dinner.” He turned to Jumin. “Would you like to join us? We’re going out for barbecue.”

Jumin shook his head. “Elizabeth is waiting for me. But thank you. Maybe next time.”

They watched as he turned and went back to the elevator and rode it…up. “He lives above you?” Hen asked, as they waited for the elevator to return for them to take it down instead.

“Yes.” Jihyun said with a smile. “We were childhood friends, Jumin and I.”

“And now?”

“Still friends. Less so children.”

Hen giggled, and tried to keep herself from thinking of this dinner as a date. It was just.. a work dinner.

The rest of the week flew by, and before Hen knew it she was back on her own, her sittings were all done and now she had all the free time in the world to get her reading done, but she couldn’t stop thinking of Jihyun. She hadn’t really been being honest with herself about him, it seemed, but now that she had some time to think clearly, it was plain as day. She was in love with the painter. He made her smile and laugh in a way no one else had. None of her previous partners even held a candle to the way he made her feel.

Sure, she might be his muse, not that he’d said as much to her even after she’d heard Jumin say it, but regardless… that was an art thing, not a personal thing. And now that this collection was done, other than the gallery opening he’d wanted her to come to, she may not ever see him again. Hen sighed, and like clockwork, her phone started ringing. Who called these days? Oh. It was Jihyun!

“Hey Jihyun!”

“Hi… I have… a selfish request.”

“Shoot.”

“I need your help. I’m trying to get all the finishing work done and for the life of me I cannot focus. I thought maybe getting someone to body double for me would help, but all of my friends are normal boring adults with day jobs. Jumin offered his cat, but she’s white and a mischief and I do not think that would be a good idea around all the paint…”

“Jihyun. Slow down. Calm down, it’s okay. What do you actually need from me?”

“Come and sit here and hang out? You can bring your books. I know you were eyeing that oversized chair, I’ll clear it out so you can relax. Maybe… get coffee from Jaehee’s on the way? I’ll pay you back, I swear, I… Hell, I’ll even pay your sitting fee just to chill with me for the day.”

“Jihyun! That’s not how friendship works! You don’t need to pay me to hang out with you. But you can take me to dinner. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Peppermint! Bye!” She hung up to the sound of his laughter, and if she wasn’t about to walk through his door with two coffees and a tote bag full of paperbacks to devour, she’d hate to end the call. Yeah. She had it bad.

Hen knocked on Jihyun’s door in the most inelegant fashion possible: with her forehead. She’d considered kicking it, but that would have sloshed the coffees too much.

Of course, Jihyun opened by her third knock, and instead she stumbled forward a step when her head met air.

“Were you knocking with your head?”

“Shhh.”

“Nooo. Your poor face.”

“I said shhhhh.” She allowed him to take his coffee, and laughed when she spotted the oversized chair in her usual posing space. “I’m modeling my dumb reading faces for you today.”

“I told you I’d pay your sitting fee.” He winked at her when she blustered, and instead she blushed. “What? You’re going to be sitting!”

“You. Are a brat.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“What, your RFA Friends?” She said, thinking back to the chatroom entirely full of chicken photos.

“Only ones I’ve got.”

“You’ve got me!” Hen argued, and Jihyun turned a look on her that she couldn’t decipher, not even paired with the radiant smile.

“You’re different. You’re my Muse, Hen.”

“Well, you’re my… artist… i guess.. there’s not a good word for that. I’m sticking with friend.” She grinned at him, and he laughed.

“Well, get to reading, Muse, I better get myself actually working so you didn’t come here for no reason.”

Hen settled and then realized the scale of the canvas he was currently working on.

“Damn, Jihyun, that’s huge. Is it the centerpiece?”

“It is!”

“And you still won’t let me sneak a peek?”

“Of course not! and ruin the effect of the collection as a whole on opening night? Never.”

“I’m still invited to that?”

“Of course. You’re my muse. You’re my plus one.”

Hen saw the chance and had to ask… to save herself heartbreak down the road.

“What, no boyfriend? I was sure you and Jumin had--”

“No.” He cut her off. “I’m single, Hen. Have been since… well. Everything.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that someday, you know? I hate walking into landmines that just hurt your feelings.”

“You’re right. I should. Maybe over dinner?”

They spent the day in quiet companionship. Every now and again Hen would laugh at something that happened in her book, or absolutely have to read part of something to Jihyun because it was just written way too well.

They took a break for lunch, Jihyun had ordered sandwiches while she was still wrapped up in the most recent book.

“Your reading speed is ridiculous.”

“Jihyun. I’m in law school. Of course it’s ridiculous.”

“…I keep forgetting that. You’re so nice.”

“Sometimes lawyers are nice.”

“My lived experience begs to differ.”

“Hm.” Time to change the subject so that he could get back to work and not just spill everything now. “You’re going to tell me about that over dinner you said. Any ideas where you want to take me?”

Jihyun blinked for a moment, and then shrugged. “I was thinking Sushi?”

“I do not know if I am dressed well enough to go out for sushi, but…”

“I was thinking about a local place that has all you can eat sushi. No dress code. Plenty of time to sit and talk about difficult subjects in an informal environment.”

“Oh. Well then. You will be surprised at how much sushi I can eat.”

“With my friends, I don’t get surprised by much anymore.”

“And since then, she’s been in Alaska, at an inpatient rehabilitation center.”

“Jesus. That was… you? We discussed the situation in one of my classes while it was ongoing.”

“Yes, I’m not surprised, it was a clusterfuck.”

Hen reached her hand out across the table to take Jihyun’s, heedless of how forward she was being. The man needed comfort.

“That’s a lot of stress, Jihyun.”

Jihyun sighed, but didn’t move his hand out from under hers, a choice that Hen chose to take as a positive sign.

“It was, but it’s over. Now I can move on and be better. To myself. To my friends.”

They paused to eat more of the sushi in front of them, when something he said suddenly connected for Hen.

“You said she’s in Alaska… is that when you ‘lost’ your phone?”

Jihyun chuckled. “When I threw it into the ocean. Yeah. We were still engaged when she was sentenced, and I hadn’t woken up at the hospital yet, so they put me down as one of her guardians. She was demanding to see me since I was on her paperwork… I had to go there in person to get my name removed.”

“Oh because that was safe and healthy for your trauma…” Hen muttered grumpily.

Jihyun nodded. “Exactly. Anyway, once I left, she started texting me begging me to come back, and… I just… I needed to be free of her. Of all that. I’d managed to put myself back together in the two years since and I couldn’t go back to that mental place. So I chucked my phone off of the side of the ferry. ‘Oops’. My only regret is losing your contact information in the process. Why did we never email?”

Hen shook her head with a low chuckle. “Hubris. I don’t know. I’m just glad you found me back. I was really worried I’d done something to upset you.”

“Well, I do wish you’d let me buy you dinner. Grandma Yu teases me to this day about ruining that date.”

Date? Hen must have thought about it for a minute too long, because Jihyun was rushing past the statement like he’d never made it.

“You’re not buying dinner tonight. This is my gift in return for you sharing your day with me.”

Hen nodded. “The chat with the chickens - that was those friends?”

“The very same.”

“I hope I get to meet them someday.”

“They’ll be at the gallery. Maybe… don’t wear feathers.”

Hen laughed so hard she aspirated her tea. “Jihyun!! What should I wear?!”

Leaving the restaurant, Hen realized this would be a perfect time to tell Jihyun how she felt. He deserved to know. She deserved to be let down in a nice quiet parking lot, not in front of however many people at the gallery showing. And since that was the last time she was likely to see him, well, she chose now.

“Jihyun, I…”

He reached out and held a finger to her lips, stopping her from talking.

“I know what you’re going to say. Can you wait until after you see the paintings? Please?”

Hen blinked. He wanted her to wait to confess until after the gallery? That was exactly the opposite of what she wanted.

What she was thinking must have shown on her face.

“I promise I will hear you out. I will give you privacy if you want it. But I need you to see… what I see… first.”

Hen sighed and nodded, and only then did he move his finger.

As her bus pulled up to the stop, Jihyun smiled at her. “See you at the gallery.”

“Yeah.” she forced a smile onto her face. “See you Saturday.”

The entire ride home, Hen let the tears silently track down her cheeks. He was going to turn her down, she knew it. He’d known she was going to confess. How many people had fallen for him while modeling? How many women had he turned down? Had he known since he came back from Alaska? Had he known before she did?

He’d had probably the worst relationship experience on the planet, there was no way he’d be interested in trying something. It wasn’t even that there was anything wrong with her, just that with everything he’d been through…

Hen sighed. She was thinking in circles. She should have known better than to fall for anyone. It’s not like her dating history was stellar either. She wiped the tears from her face as her bus arrived at her stop and she started walking home. She would be the best possible muse at this gallery opening. The belle of the ball. Maybe they could stay friends, if she didn’t make a complete mess of everything. She’d like that.

Hen had gone all-out for the gallery opening. She’d secretly talked to Jaehee at the cafe about what the dress code would actually be like, so she wouldn’t embarrass anyone, and the woman had actually volunteered to go shopping with her. Hen turned her down, but they exchanged numbers so Hen could send photos if she needed advice. She felt like she needed to do this herself.

Eventually she found what she needed. A navy blue and black jacquard dress, with an off-the shoulder sweetheart neckline and a subtle high low hem, from knees to tea length. The neckline showed a lot of skin, but a shawl would temper it, especially with her hair in loose curls over one shoulder.

Hair and makeup were easy. She knew how to put on a flawless face, it was practically a requirment with law school. Her favorite jewelry - understated sapphire earrings and a matching pendant on silver chain - finished the look. With a pair of short black suede ankle boots, a cashmere shawl, and her wool coat, she was prepared for a gallery opening in mid-January. Hopefully Jaehee hadn’t steered her wrong. She wouldn’t know what to do if she were dressed improperly. Both overdressed and underdressed were a possibility here, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous.

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Jihyun, these pieces are magnificent.”

Hen stepped into the gallery, slightly early for the actual opening, but Jihyun had requested her to be early to meet his friends. The entrance to the room was slightly raised, and had an unimpeded view of the collection. She could hear people talking, but she had eyes only for the art on display. She recognized all of the pieces along the edges from her sittings. First the triptych, Three pieces, one looking left out a window toward a historical setting, one looking right out a window in a cyberpunk-esque future setting (she knew that’s what that outfit was!), and the third looking straight out a window into a modern wartorn landscape.

“I see why you wouldn’t show us any of them early.”

The one where she’d been posing on the bench like it was a tree seemed to be robin hood? Or maybe hunger games? Either way, very stealthy, she loved the look of it. Opposite that was the grecian chaise lounge scene… he’d actually painted her asleep?! Jihyun! She internally scolded him. He could have just asked her to pretend to be asleep. Brat.

“Imagine if he hadn’t found his muse back!”

Her favorite so far had been the hardest pose to hold for the time he’d needed - a sword-weilding maiden from chinese folklore. It actually showed her in three distinct poses, as though in motion, and she stared at it for a long time. The last had her crumpled on the floor in front of a grave, hair in her face, soaked by rain. She’d remembered that - he’d asked her if she’d be willing to go stand in the shower in the giant pile of organza. She’d gotten the entire studio wet. It had been a riot.

“You did five of these just this month? You’re a madman, V… I mean Jihyun.”

But it wasn’t until she focused on the centerpiece - the only one she hadn’t posed for - that she realzied that none of the women in the paintings were actually her. She’d posed for them, but they had different hairstyles, different facial features, like she was playing characters instead of being herself.

“Jihyun, this collection is radiant. If it’s this good, then your muse must be exquisite.”

The centerpiece was actually a painting of her, done the last day she’d been in his studio, sitting ridiculously sideways in that oversized chair engrossed in her book, but instead of it being in his studio it was in a vast library. She couldn’t help but laugh when she realized how many hints he’d tried to give her that she was in fact sitting for another painting. He’d clearly wanted her to be herself. God she loved him.

She looked down, then, to where Jihyun was standing surrounded by a small group of people… all of whom were looking up at her. Of them, she recognized Jaehee from the coffee shop and Jumin his upstairs neighbor / childhood friend. There were also two gingers who could be twins, a girl with long brown fringe and even longer hair, a blonde with dark roots, and a … was that Zen?! Huh. He wasn’t kidding about the eclectic group of friends he had.

Jihyun held out a hand to beckon her over, and she made her way down the stairs and over to the group. Jihyun took her around the group; Jaehee, the owner/operator of the coffee shop she frequented. Jumin, his best friend from childhood and Director of C&R International. Saeyoung and Saeran, the computer-savvy twins. MC, the insightful party planner. Yoosung, the newly-minted Veterinarian. Zen, also known as Hyun, the actor.

“And I’m the model.” She shook her head. “I mean law student.” She smirked at Jihyun who laughed. She didn’t miss the surprised looks from his friends at the sound of his laugh. She was right. This man needed to smile and laugh more. If she could give that to him, she would gladly — no, that was a lie - she would accept simply being his friend. “You sell yourself short.” Jihyun said, a soft smile flickering into place. “This is Hen. My muse. My friend. I hope you can all get along well.”

“Don’t worry, Jihyun. We’ll take care of your girl when you inevitably get pulled away by boring rich guys.” One of the twins - Saeyoung, she thought, gold eyes - said with a smirk.

After the introductions, the RFA scattered around the room as other patrons of the arts started to filter in, the official start time having passed. Jihyun held his arm out for her like a proper gentleman. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, Hen.” He said with that smile she loved so much.

“Thank you.” She felt her cheeks heat and willed herself to calm down. This was his show. “I didn’t want to make you look bad. Not after you made me look so good.” She gestured to the biggest piece of art in the room, and he had the grace to look embarrassed.

“I should have been up front and asked for your permission, but I wanted to paint you naturally, not posing. I’m sorry I lied to you, Hen.”

Hen shook her head. “You didn’t lie to me, Jihyun. You left so many crumbs, I could have assembled an entire loaf of bread from how much you were afraid to surprise me with this. Hell, you even offered to pay me a sitting fee just to hang out with you. The fact that I was still surprised is more on me than it is on you!”

“I’m still going to pay you for that.”

Hen smirked. They’d had this back and forth so many times, she couldn’t help but kick it up a notch.

“You could pay me back with a kiss.” She said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Jihyun not only sputtered trying to respond to her in any fashion, he even stopped walking.

Hen turned to apologize to him, just in time to see Jihyun school his features and hold his arm out properly again. Great, now you’ve done it, Hen. If he wasn’t going to turn you down before, he definitely is now.

Moments later, a group of men walked up and started talking to Jihyun about his works, and Hen tuned in so that she could respond to any questions asked of her. There weren’t any, of course, she was arm candy and most of them probably hadn’t even noticed that she was the woman pictured in the art.

Eventually, the event was in full swing, and Jihyun went up to the landing to talk about the art a bit. He told a story about a woman who loved to read more than anything, and her trips of imagination through storybooks. He talked about how the collection was about escapism through fiction, and how the modern world has made even fictional war more glamorous than our day-to-day slog through capitalism.

He introduced her to the assembled patrons as his muse, the beautiful law student who deigned to stand, sit and otherwise pose for long hours just so that he might put some paint on canvas. There was nothing in his description about their friendship, or the bond they’d formed, simply a focus on a beautiful woman who inspired his art. He even kept her name out of it, kept her away from being associated with his art in any way but visually.

Hen was more certain than ever that this would be the last night she would see Jihyun. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him how she felt. Maybe it would be better to pretend that she wasn’t feeling any of this. After his talk, Jihyun passed her off to Saeyoung to walk through the gallery while he was accosted by too many people all at once, just as they’d predicted.

Hen looked around for the rest of his friends, and couldn’t help but notice MC snuggled up to the other twin. “Those two are cute together.” She said discreetly, and Saeyoung laughed.

“They are. They’ve been dating for a few years now.”

“Aww, that’s just too sweet.”

“You mean like you and Jihyun?”

Hen laughed bitterly. “I wish.”

“Oh come on, Hen, I’ve only known you for a few hours and—“

“I didn’t realize I was that obvious.” She chuckled ruefully at her own hubris. “He stopped me from confessing, Saeyoung. I don’t stand a chance with someone like him.”

Saeyoung sighed. “I think you’re selling yourself short. You’re good for him, Hen. I haven’t heard him laugh like that in… a very long time.”

Saeyoung’s words stuck with Hen the rest of the night, even as she was bounced between the other members of the RFA. Just as she was thinking she’d hit her limit for socialization for one night, and thought she might try to find Jihyun to say goodbye before heading out, the man found her himself, a hand at her elbow leading her away from the crowd.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get much time together tonight.” He said, turning her to face him, his hands gently circling her, keeping her close enough that their quiet voices wouldn’t carry.

“All those hours with me in your studio, I’m sure you had more than enough of me.”

“Never!” He said with a laugh. “What you were going to say the other night…”

Hen blushed, and bit her lip. Her confidence was gone. Her willingess to have her heart trampled had gone with it. “Jihyun, I…”

“Hen, I’m in love with you.” Jihyun interrupted, and Hen was suddenly very aware of how he was shaking.

“You…”

“I know, it’s inappropriate. I tried to be good, but I couldn’t have you end everything before you at least got to see the gallery and—“

Hen reached out and put her finger against his lips to silence him. “Jihyun. Me too.”

His eyes went wide, but she didn’t move her finger, and he didn’t attempt to say anything.

“I was so sure you were going to turn me down when I tried to confess after sushi.” She moved her hand away then, anxiously twisting her fingers together.

“Wait, you meant—“

She nodded, cursing the tears beading up in her eyes. “And then when you kept me out of your speech except the fact that I was standing there, I..”

“I wanted to keep your bright future from being tainted by my questionable past, is all.”

“We’re idiots, aren’t we? ”

He nodded. “Complete idiots, but at least we’re together.”

“We have got to learn to communicate better. No more throwing phones in the ocean.”

They shared a laugh, and Hen knew, then, that everything was finally going to be alright.

“Hey, let’s get out of here.” Jihyun said, that smile she loved so much lighting his face. “Jumin can handle the cleanup and closing.” He looked over her shoulder and she felt him shake with silent laughter.

Hen followed his line of sight to where Jumin was standing with Saeyoung, the former nodding discreetly while the latter made hand motions as if shooing them away. She giggled. “Okay, Jihyun Kim, I will allow you to drive me home.”

The ride home was silent, but it was a calm introspective kind of silence, rather than an anxious uncomfortable one. Hen, of course, was warring with herself internally about what she wanted to do with her night. She was reminded, as they pulled into her parking area, that she didn’t have to make these choices alone anymore.

“Do you want to come up for tea?” Hen asked quietly, fidgeting with the ends of her shawl in lieu of her usual sweatshirt strings.

“I would love to.” Jihyun said, just as softly.

She led him through the building to her lofty third-floor apartment, where she stepped out of her shoes and set about getting tea started. She set the mugs on the counter and opened the tea cabinet. When she turned to ask Jihyun what kind of tea he wanted, he was right behind her, and she startled.

“Oh, hello there.” She said with an awkward giggle.

“Hi, Hen.” He said, leaning into her space. “May I kiss you?”

She nodded even as she felt the blush on her cheeks, and moments later his lips were on hers, and her arms were looped around his neck, holding him close. When they broke for air, they both laughed before moving toward each other again.

“What about the tea?” She asked, softly, afraid to break the spell.

“I… don’t need tea.”

#mystictober 2024 #mm_mystictober2024 #mystic messenger #mysme #jihyun kim #mysme v #post-canon #this is a kissing book #fanfic

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the-white-soul · 7 months ago

Note

Flowey: If you're not dating nor are friends, you're acquaintances with a silent crush phase. Heehee, I know what you should say when someone asks what you are next time! You're blockheads.

That uh… that means you're not heartheads or smileyheads. *Flowey smiles innocently and snickers to himself as he tries to trick you into insulting yourselves.*

Anyway, got any root beer left for me?

(Kara) "Really? Blockhead."

(Dess) "What's so wrong about it? We're blockheads through and through. I'm sorry if you don't like the word for some weird reason."

(Kara) "*Slaps head* Should I tell her?"

(Dess) "Tell me what?"

(Kara) "I don't know. Hey, do you want to watch Peanuts?"

(Dess) "Sure. I don't know why you want me to watch it now."

*12 minutes into the story*

(Lucy) "Charlie you blockhead. This is what you call a tree?"

(Dess) "Oh! Flowey you trickster."

(Kara) "Oh also sure Flowey you can have it. *gives the rest to Flowey. After he finishes...*"

(Kara) "I appreciate the respectful gifts. You all are so much nicer than I thought you'd be. When I heard horror stories about you all I was scared. Granted not all of you are good. I mean my arm got cut off by someone that seems to be part of the wind. That's fun. I always wonder why me? People like you though show how not all Anons are bad. Hell besides that airspeaker, you're all fantastic. Now back to our original problem."

(Dess) "Now we need an actual title."

(Kara) "Perfect! Now that we've done something completely unimportant like naming ourselves we should probably go out and get to work."

(Dess) "On what?"

(Kara) "I didn't think that far ahead."

*John walks in looking like he hasn't seen the sun in 3 days*

(John) "Well that was difficult but I finally got Asgore's case. Does anyone want to talk with him again? I negotiated one more call."

(Dess) "I'll do it. *Grabs phone.* Hey Asgore how are you doing?"

(Asgore) "I want to say good but that'd be a lie. I've been burning from the heat and the work they make us do. These monster prisons are more brutal than I thought. Guards go up to you on occasion and beat you till you cry. It's a game they play and if you end up being last you get socked in the eye. If anyone tells anyone anything they get abused even further. It's scary and to say it's ignored would be too nice. They outright encourage it here. Anytime something goes wrong I get hit by their bats while everyone else laughs and throws whatever they want at me."

(Dess) "That sounds awful! Do you have any way to have them stop? Surely what they're doing is illegal."

(Asgore) "Those types of laws are barely enforced in normal prisons, let alone a species everyone hates."

(Kara) "Do you have air conditioning?"

*Dess and Asgore started laughing.*

(Asgore) "This is Britain! We're lucky to have air conditioning in our own homes. You really believe they care that much about monsters?"

(Dess) "Well, try to stay a low profile, okay?"

(Asgore) "Alright. *Hangs up.*"

*In the prison.*

Asgore walks back to his cell seeing the high amount of monsters entrapped. Some of them go into a room of complete white if they misbehave. Suddenly, while no one is watching Asgore, Chara burrows out of the ground.

(Chara) "So how do you feel? Don't worry you'll only get killed by the executioner, not me. I wonder if you'll ever crack?"

(Asgore) "Can you stop teasing me? You're the only reason I'm putting effort into stopping the death penalty."

(Chara) "You know it's funny. People think you are a great serious leader. The only smart ones are Papyrus and Alphys. They know who you are. I'm mostly here to make your situation worse and to observe what you do. I bet they give you food that tastes like poop."

(Asgore) "They gave us a bun for a meal. Two on special occasions. Help me please!"

(Chara) "WAH! Boo hoo. Oh, also one thing I want to do. *Slices his left thumb in half and watches it bleed.*"

(Asgore) "Why would you do that!!!"

(Chara) "So I can hurt you without killing you. Oh, people are coming. See you when you're fried!"

#undertale #the white soul #kara #flowey #ask flowey #Asgore #A lot of anons #Chara #Dess #When I do the court case I'll have it be impacted by you and if you choose wrong I will kill Asgore. If right he'll live.#I’ve seen one comment about this so I just want to clarify I know what friends with benefits are but Kara and Dess are too naive

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writingforfishes · 8 days ago

Text

Hicvember: Pinocchio

Fandom: Gr1mm Characters: M0nroe Ros@alee N1ck H@nk Ad@lind Glori@ (mentioned) DeEtt@ (mentioned) Definitions/Lore: Gr1mm-a person with the ability to see We5en when they don't want to be seen. Killers of We5en, historically. We5en-a person who has the "soul" of another creature/being. They can change forms with emotion (unseen by normal humans) or intentionally (seen by everyone) Inspired many fables from the Brother's Gr1mm, the namesake/family of those who have the ability to see them. Blutb@den-(singular: Blutb@d) The "Big Bad Wolf" Fuchsb@u- Fox-like We5en Hex3nbie5ts- Witch-like We5en

CW:

long hiccups

painful hiccups

fast hiccups

allegory for recovery group

mentions of past drug addiction

mentioned pregnancy

heterosexual relationship (tee)

adorable relationship dynamics

domestic tiff

mother-in-law tropes

“So, basically what you’re saying is anyone who touched the amulet would be affected,” H@nk said, the detective taking a deep, cleansing breath in a way he hadn’t been able to a moment before.

“Yes,” Ad@lind confirmed as she shifted back from her Hex3nbei5t form.

“Man, my chest hurts,” N1ck muttered. He rubbed his muscles with a wince.

“Yeah,” H@nk said, “but think of how lucky you are to have this happen now and not while you were still with Juli3tte. Man, the lies you told. We lie enough at our jobs as it is…”

N1ck winced for another reason as H@nk’s statement sunk in.

Ad@lind met his eyes with an equal amount of sympathy and mischievous amusement.

“You might have died from suffocation,” she quipped.

“Okay, okay,” N1ck protested holding his hands up to stave off any other reminders of how horribly he’d handled his past relationship. “Just glad it’s over.”

“As long as no one else touched the amulet no one else should be affected. I’ve nullified the magic so it won’t cause any...disturbances to anyone else again,” Ad@lind said, still handling the object delicately.

A beat passed between N1ck and H@nk before realization simultaneously donned on them and they said together, “M0nroe!”

“Crap,” Ad@lind sighed, knowing she’d have to now do the whole ceremony again. “I’ll...remake what I need and you get to him before it becomes a permanent affliction.”

***

N1ck and H@nk didn’t even bother to call Ros@lee before they showed up at her and M0nroe’s house. N1ck knocked on the door after turning an unsettled eye at H@nk. But M0nroe didn’t really lie all that much, right? Especially not to Ros@lee.

“Hey, guys,” Ros@lee said. Her pregnancy was just beginning to show through her clothes. It was early, but she was having triplets so it was no wonder she’d already had to buy maternity jeans.

“Hey, is M0nroe here?” N1ck asked.

“Uh. Yeah? You know, he’s not in a great mood, honestly. He’s...well it sounds a little silly but...he’s had this stubborn case of the hiccups for over three hours, now!” she said as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Poor guy…”

“Three hours?” H@nk said. He actually looked relieved.

“Yeah, that’s good,” N1ck confirmed.

Ad@lind had told them it took 12 hours for the spell to cause a chronic condition. Figures that it would take M0nroe a lot longer than two detectives to tell a lie to trigger it. Though N1ck was curious what it must have been. It wasn’t triggered by white lies or innocuous lies. It was only triggered by larger falsities, lies contradicting a person’s values and nature. In N1ck and H@nk’s line of work it didn’t take long to tell someone a life altering fib in order to get information, no matter the detective’s moral disagreement to it.

“Um, no, I still think three hours having hiccups is pretty bad,” Ros@lee insisted.

“What, no, yeah, of course it is,” H@nk confirmed.

“It’s a spell,” N1ck clarified.

“N1ck, M0nroe, and I found this amulet wedged in a cinder block at the construction site we were a couple of nights ago. Seemed innocent. N1ck stored it at his place to research later,” H@nk continued.

“Turns out, Ad@lind said it was a truth amulet. Anyone who touches it has to tell the truth or face the consequences,” N1ck said.

“Consequences…” Ros@lee said, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” H@nk picked up. “A nasty case of hiccups.”

“That don’t stop until either the person who told the lie tells the truth or the curse is lifted. H@nk and I were both triggered. But we were deep in a case and wouldn’t have been able to tell the truth to who we needed. Ad@lind had a way to nullify the effect as long as we were able to tell her when we told the lie that started it,” N1ck said. “If we’d hiccuped for more than 12 hours it would have been permanent.”

“Oh my god!” Ros@lee exclaimed. “That sounds terrible!”

“So, you remember M0nroe telling you any lies lately? Something big,” H@nk asked. “Unless he’s been talking to anyone else in the past 3 hours.”

“No,” Ros@lee said, frowning. “I...I don’t know. Lemme get him.”

Ros@lee went to the bottom of the stairs leading up to their room. M0nroe had thought taking a nap might calm the hiccups down, at least. It hadn’t worked in the least.

“M0nroe! N1ck and H@nk are here! It has something to do with your hiccups! It’s a spell!” Ros@lee yelled up.

She returned to the two detectives with her hands to her lower back in support of her belly’s weight and her spreading hips.

“Ad@lind’s on the way with supplies, by the way,” N1ck assured her. Ros@lee gave a worried nod.

“You guys sit down. I’ll make some coffee,” Ros@lee said distractedly.

N1ck and H@nk sat down in the living room. N1ck was on the couch and H@nk took the chair to the side of it. M0nroe’s footsteps landed hard and fast as he came down to the living room, a sound the boys had been made all too familiar with peppering his arrival.

“H—hey guys,” M0nroe said. He looked disheveled in sweat pants and a white shirt as he suppressed a hiccup deep within his throat and chest. He winced as he rubbed his chest. “Wh-HUCK!-what’s this abo-mk!-out a spell? HUP’M! Ugh…”

The Blutb@d rubbed his sternum again and sighed a breath before another hiccup attacked him. He sat down next to N1ck and the Gr1mm patted him on the back sympathetically.

“The amulet we found,” H@nk explained. He silently nodded to Ros@lee in tH@nks at the coffee.

“H@nk and I were both on a case, today. TH@nks,” N1ck said to Ros@lee as she handed him a mug as well.

N1ck couldn’t help but notice that M0nroe waved a hand to the coffee offering. He imagined if M0nroe had been experiencing the same acid reflux both he and H@nk had during their attack, coffee was the last thing M0nroe wanted.

“You remember the amulet we found yesterday?” N1ck asked.

“Yeah th-huck!-the on—one that looked hmp!-looked like an E—evil Eye except HUCK’M!-except not?” M0nroe asked.

“Water?” Ros@lee asked. And was it his imagination but did his wife’s demeanor seem a little chilly?

“Uh HU’UP! Yeah, my thr-uck!-throat’s killing me!” M0nroe suppressed another hiccup and swallowed with a wince.

“I bet it is,” Ros@lee said.

Oh, N1ck thought, Ros@lee had probably just figured out whatever lie it was M0nroe had told. H@nk had picked up on it too and widened his eyes in realization, looking down.

“Ad@lind said it was called the Eye of Truth,” N1ck explained. “Anyone who touches it is made to tell the truth or face the consequences.”

“Probably HU’UCK!-ugh. Probably why it hmp’mk!-was in a con—concrete block, huh? HUP! So, what consequ-HIGGUP!-ences?” M0nroe asked as Ros@lee came back with the glass.

“Hiccups!” Ros@lee said primly and put the glass of water in front of her husband down with more force than necessary on the coffee table. In a lower voice she said, close to his face, “And if they have them for more than twelve hours without telling the truth they have them forever…”

M0nroe’s eyes widened both at the information shared and at Ros@lee’s sudden demeanor change.

Ros@lee turned on her heel to head back to the kitchen.

“I’m going to make tea!” she announced sharply.

“Dude…” H@nk said in a low voice. “What did you do?”

M0nroe looked lost for a little bit. His hand pushed flat against his chest as he searched his mind for the moment he had lied to her. His stomach jolted out sharply and his entire body jumped with the power of the hiccups he’d endured for three hours. He let the squelchy catches of breath fill the room over the ticking of his clocks for a while as he tried to recall when they started. A hard one knocked his head back with a HNK’GUULK as recognition suddenly passed his features.

“Crap,” he said. “We were HUCK’LP!-were talking about hmk!-Ros@lee’s mo—mother.”

“Damn,” H@nk said in understanding. “Mother-in-laws. I’ve definitely had to deal with my share fair.”

“I said,” Ros@lee said, reappearing as she waited for the kettle to sound, “my mom would make a good grandmother for our kids. And M0nroe agreed. And then he caught the most aggressive bout of hiccups...hm...interesting…”

Ros@lee crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

“I do-HUCK!-don’t thi—ink she wo-HU’UP!-wo-HUP!-uld ma-HMK!-make a b-HU’UP!HUP!-bad gr-MK!-grandmother!” M0nroe tried to argue.

N1ck patted his friend’s leg and shook his head.

“The hiccups get worse when you try to double-down,” H@nk explained.

M0nroe just winced in both mild pain and frustration.

“So you do think my mom would make a bad grandmother?” Ros@lee said, voice growing louder.

“No! HUP!HNK!HUCK’UP!” He grunted and rubbed his belly at the muscle ache. “Okay, yes. Hulp! But it’s HULP!-uh, not that sim—simple, okay? Can we HUP!-Can we talk ab—about this HUP’K!-this in private, please? HILP!”

For a moment everyone was quiet. N1ck and H@nk exchanged looks of discomfort as Ros@lee held her jaw hard in thought. The only sounds were M0nroe’s hiccups being muffled by his fist pressed against his mouth. His body jerked up violently as he looked at his wife in desperation.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go to our room,” Ros@lee said softly. Her jaw relaxed a little.

“I’ll-uh-text Ad@lind what we found out,” N1ck said. “She’ll be on her way shortly...I hope.”

Ros@lee nodded stiffly and followed her husband to their room on the second floor.

***

When M0nroe arrived he sat heavily on the corner of the bed. Ros@lee paced a little, running her hand through her hair as she watched her husband battle the spasms that attacked his body. Her anger softened even more at the way M0nroe cradled an arm along his stomach and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

Fuchsb@u were quick to anger, but they were also quick to change their minds. While not all Fuchsb@u were the same, obviously, this genetic trait seemed pretty prevalent in Ros@lee.

She finally sat next to him as he struggled to figure out how to word whatever he was trying to say, hiccups barging in as he stuttered. He was getting frustrated and Ros@lee could feel that. She laid a comforting hand to his back and rubbed his shoulders.

“Take your time,” she whispered.

M0nroe sighed and closed his eyes. He rode out a few more hiccups, catching gulpily in his throat, before speaking.

“Glori@ is—isn’t a bad person. HUP!” he started, calling Ros@lee’s mom by her first name. “But...mmk! Do you know h—how hard it is for HUP’K!-for someone like m-HEEP!-me to go We—We1der?”

Ros@lee thought for a moment. M0nroe hadn’t told her a lot about the process of becoming We1der, a program originated to help predatory We5en with their aggressive tendencies. Basically, it was a group facilitating a completely different relationship with inherent violent instincts which defined what being a Blutb@d, or any other number of predatory We5en, meant.

Instead of sacrificing himself to his natural inclination to kill living things and fight those he saw as weaker than him, M0nroe had taught himself to redefine who he was at the core of his being. He’d stripped out as much of the ‘addiction’, for lack of a better word, to cave to his base cravings as he could. It was why he was vegetarian. It was why he focused so hard on music and special interests and exercising and clocks and...Ros@lee. It kept him on the good path. It kept him from hurting anyone. It kept him sane.

He didn’t do this alone. He did this through We1der teaching facilitated by a group leader and within a group of people, We5en, who experienced the same urges as himself and the same desire to gain control. It hadn’t been easy. It hadn’t been pretty. But it was important to him that he honor his growth as much as possible. There-in came the complication who was Glori@, Ros@lee’s mom.

“I-I mean, no,” Ros@lee finally answered. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“Pity,” M0nroe said. His diaphragm defied him again and he grunted with the deep hiccup that caused his muscles to convulse and his breath to hitch. “Glori@ looks a—at me with hup!-pity. It’s hu’up!, it’s always been th-hnk!-that way. I recogn-ip!-ise it. You’re sis—sister too, but hmp!-but that’s just De—DeEtt@, I th-hmp!-ink.”

Ros@lee nodded at that, at least. DeEtt@ was the master of a look of derision. But her mom? Ros@lee silently considered what M0nroe had said.

Pity seemed like a pretty innocuous expression until you considered where it came from. There was an inherent arrogance in pity. People pitied because they thought someone else was in a lower place than themselves. It was different if the target of the pity was someone in a genuinely bad situation. But if they were just living their lives in the best possible way and someone pitied them for it, that felt like a direct attack on the way they were choosing to live. M0nroe was thriving; Glori@ had no reason to pity him.

But, the more Ros@lee thought about it the more she realized she could remember the exact look M0nroe was talking about. It wasn’t subtle, either. During her own struggles with drug addiction, that same look of pity, disappointment, and arrogant judgment appeared in her mom’s face more than once.

“I just hup!” M0nroe said, filling the silence as Ros@lee processed what he’d told her. “I just d-hmk!-don’t want our kids hulp!-kids to b—be judged if himp’k!-they decide to mk!-to take the same p—path as me. If they ne-ip!-eed a little help. It’s their deci—ision, obviously. But the thought of mk!-of their gran—grandmother judging them? Doesn’t hup!-doesn’t sit right with me. I—I’m sorry hmp!”

“No, you’re right,” Ros@lee said. “I...if it helps I don’t think she even knows she does it. But I know that look. Every time I came back from a bender she had that look. It made me feel like I would never be good enough. I had no idea she was using that look with you.

“She,” she sighed, “She’s asked me before about you being We1der.”

M0nroe looked surprised. He didn’t know that.

“Yeah. She seemed confused. I explained it but...my mom is really big on connecting to the We5en part of her. I think maybe...she thought you were denying part of yourself. And I thought, you know, I thought I explained it enough to dissuade her but…maybe not,” Ros@lee admitted. “She relented, finally, saying that at least I won’t have to worry about cleaning up as much blood. Guess she really didn’t think about us working with a Gr1mm.”

M0nroe laughed, body softly jumping with his fading hiccups.

“Or that I’m hup! I’m the one who d—does the laundry?” he teased.

Ros@lee laughed at that.

“Which I tH@nk you immensely for,” she said.

He smiled.

“I...wish you had felt like you could have told me this. I understand why you thought you couldn’t. And I probably should’ve told you about her and my conversation, too. I just didn’t want you to feel...well...like you already feel,” Ros@lee said with a shake of her head and a sad smile.

M0nroe huffed in amusement.

“I guess this means we aren’t the perfect couple everyone thinks we are?” he lamented.

“Bite your tongue, Blutb@d,” Ros@lee teased. “Of course we are. Otherwise you would’ve had the hiccups for all of eternity instead of feeling safe enough...eventually...to tell me the truth. Which I appreciate.”

“True…” M0nroe said with a nod. “Speaking of which.” He gave a big breath. “They are finally gone!”

“TH@nk goodness!” Ros@lee said.

“Yeah, they were really starting to hurt,” M0nroe grumbled.

“Well, yeah. But also...I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep!” Ros@lee joked.

They both shared some laughter.

“Okay, I think I heard Ad@lind come in,” Ros@lee said. “Unless you want to be stuck having to tell the truth for fear of hiccuping chronically for the rest of your life I guess it would be a good idea to nullify this thing, huh?”

M0nroe nodded enthusiastically.

“I would definitely appreciate that. Although, I’ve also learned my lesson. It’s not like...I’m not going to start lying or anything…” he said nervously.

“Calm down, dear. I’m a Fuchsb@u. We live on lies,” Ros@lee said with a grin.

M0nroe looked at her suspiciously.

Ros@lee offered no comment, just an inquisitive look back. The expression devolved into laughter, though.

M0nroe laughed nervously, still not convinced it had all been a joke. Ros@lee just shook her head in amusement at the response.

“I’ll talk to my mom tomorrow. She needs to know how you feel and how her judgment affects people,” Ros@lee said.

“You don’t need to do that,” M0nroe protested, rising as she did from the bed.

“Yeah, I do. I want our kids to feel safe no matter what. I need her to know how important it is for me to fully accept our children. If our kids turn out to be Blutb@d, even just one, I need them to know they’ll be supported no matter what. It’s important,” Ros@lee said.

“I love you,” M0nroe said.

“Love you, too.”

They kissed.

“See?” M0nroe said pointing to himself. “I really do love you! No hiccups!”

“Better not be…” she said with a grin.

M0nroe kissed her again with a dopey grin before they went downstairs to nullify any future impacts of the spell on M0nroe’s poor, abused diaphragm.

#hicvember2024 #hiccups kink #hiccup kink #hiccups #non kink blogs do not reblog #18+ mdni #hic fic #hicfic #not safe for minors #no kink all hiccups #M0nroe #Ros@alee #N1ck #H@nk #Ad@lind #Gr1mm #Hopefully everything is consistent and easy to read?

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cosmic-ships · 2 months ago

Text

6am ramblings :) I did not spellcheck this so lol good luck! Aksnsk

So Mega.lop.olis is an actual mindfuck. Like the visuals are so incredibly cool but if you don't pay close attention it will seem like random and complete nonsense.

Despite everyone saying how bad it is, its actually not? I found it to be really good with a good story that goes into a pretty deep discussion about our way of living. (Again if you're paying attention!)

Now onto the other stuff (that I was screaming about last night)

They outright say my boy has mania and given how a certain scene goes and the story that goes with it it is very very deeply implied that my love suffers from the same mental illness I do which is very unfortunate but I instantly could relate to him on a deeper more understanding level. Ce.s.ar went through an episode and did some not so great things and my heart absolutely broke for him. As stated last night, the moment it started I instantly knew what was happening before it became aware to audience.

Much like my irl self and the woman who birthed me, he does not get on well with his mother. We both have very very shitty mothers (our fathers aren't in the picture. This also contributes to Ce.s.ar's moods and again my heart breaks for him because he's just so sweet and his mother is so....not...)

Pretty sure my boy cannot die, like.. ever. I yelled in the theater last night mainly because loud sound and what happened to him (he got shot in the right side of his face ;A; survived though by using the very stuff he discovered to create, to heal his face. The surgeons used it for him)

Silly rambles(?) Kinda.

I did not like the canon love interest that was happening. Ya know despite my raging jealousy lol like just viewing it, they would have been better off as rivals(?) Granted she helps him in a huge way when someone tries to lie and say he's done (x) things and proves he is innocent but in terms of relationship all I saw was someone following him around (literally stalking him in her car with her friend) and then it's just a weird little timeskip of "oh we work together now" but doesn't say or show what she actually does?

Also what confused me is Ce.s.ar's ability to stop time. Well not so much him in general but more so...can anyone use it? Because there's a scene (blah blah canonxcanon) where she gets him to think about her to try and stop time because he seemed to have lost the ability after his big episode. It works and thats what kicks off their relationship? But then their relationship isn't really..idk concrete? Its so hard to explain but I did not connect to her and his relationship. Nothing made me root for them as a couple in the way the movie thought I might would??

OKAY TIME TO GET ALL SQUEAKY AND WEIRD (kinda some suggestive kinda not?? Suggestive Marked ☆ lol)

☆ I got flustered in the theater, like I hid in my shirt. Because there's a uh...a scene while granted I do not like the visuals it was with a different girl and not his love interest. Near the start of the movie...ahem the s o u n d s lets just say Ce.s.ar is very vocal and it wasn't even the actual act of ..y-yknow. He was just heavily making out and grinding I hid in my shirt and the guy sitting beside me was like "are you okay?" And I was like "t-tooootally normal and fiiiiiine" I was not fine. >////>

☆ Don't allow this man to consume copious amounts of alcohol he'll end up in his underwear...tight black underwear to be exact AHEM

Ce.s.ar like cloakes lol he wears one often he looked realllllllly good in it too~

My man has the case of the sillies!! No really, he sometimes will randomly dance OR if asked a question he replies in a silly way "is mega.lop.olis safe?" And he just goes "absolutely not, extremely dangerous you all should RUN!" and then he got all giggly and was like "no its actually extremely safe~" also he smiles A LOT and also also there is a moment when he's learning something similar to those old games in school like miss Mary mack hand game and he gets faster and faster and faster and when its basically noncoherent the other is like "stop! What are you doing!?" And he's like "a solo!" HELP he's so fucking cute???? like I love you even more??

I was expecting softly spoken always serious. While I got it in certain scenes from him, he's actually so playful and silly which is so fucking great for me because I too am very playful and silly. He can also be loud like his voice can be very commanding and im like.."h-h..hey ~♡'

1000/10 love my man ever more now and because of the rocky//weird relationship that was happening in canon I already know how to make my self insert fit into it WITH EASE

Also it seems like more than one person has a certain type of power? Ce.s.ar could stop time and his partner before the main love interest can hypnotize people.

So who tf says I can't take elements from my ISS SI And bring em over to this work eh~? Ehehehe

If you made it this far thanks for listening to my rambles!

OH BIG THING I FORGOT big spoiler

his love interests father is responsible for making sure his dead wife's body was never found??? Hullo!? And then its touched upon a little bit but then the movie treated Ce.s.ar and the girls dad as if it was completely forgotten by the end if the movie like after that reveal it was still the dad hating him and Ce.s.ar was just....??? Still wanting his praise and approval?? I really did not like that. He should have been pissed! I mean the man convicted Ce.s.ar of killing his own wife which wasn't the case. Due to Ce.s.ar's untreated bip.olar he (like me) was deemed 'too much' and sadly, unfortunately, his wife couldn't take it and she did take her own life but it was that girls father that made it look like he killed her and Ce.s.ar was convicted (but acquitted shortly after)

So I'm taking my man, from everything. My boy now, I'm going to show him all the love and compassion that he deserves and show him he's not alone, that he doesn't have to settle for just anyone who strolls into his life, I will hold him and tell him he isn't a burden, that he is lovable and so much more than the disorder that plagues him because in that regard we are the same— we sometimes do and say things without knowing we don't have the same rationality as other people do when we are struggling but thats okay, he'll have me to lean on, we'll weather it together ♡

I am sad he has what I have but also at the same time, I don't feel as alone anymore, this isn't just me going "I hc him with bip.olar" the movie makes it pretty obvious that he actually has it. I feel even more so connected to him than I did before because I understand him and its comforting to know that he'd understand me too...

#the hands of time; ⏳#if you read all this thanks!

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benedicite-stellas · 2 months ago

Note

All of the fandom ones for Hyo? And the ones asking for canon characters, Will! :D

tagging @tiredsleep and @deck0fc4rds because they also asked the same thing 😋🫶

all of the answers are utc

How does (canon character) feel about your OC?

WILL feels pretty close with HYO, they work as partners 🫡 Not only that but the way they’re able to see through another person’s eyes is also VERY similar, the only difference is that Hyo is able to see through the eyes of the victim. They have an odd relationship where it’s not just platonic and not exactly romantic but a secret third thing. Like do they have very strong tension in intimate moments like when they reenact a crime scene, yes. But will they ever kiss or say anything explicitly like “I love you”? WHO KNOWS. But they both do wish they were brought closer together in different circumstances

How does your OC feel about (canon character)?

HYO also feels the same way as WILL in the sense that they’re pretty close. There’s like a soft vulnerability that comes with understanding that they both really enjoy with each other. They’re both fiercely loyal to the other and basically are like. locked in for realsies. If no one believes the other one, they know they got each other’s backs ‼️ To be quite honest I can’t tell if they’re normal about each other or not, but compared to other people in the show I think they are 😰

Has your OC ever made (canon character) laugh? / What about cry?

omg HYO and WILL make each other giggle all the time, it’s very silly. They like to crack small inside jokes pretty often to make sure they’re both not being so caught up in their own heads. I don’t think they’ve made each other cry (i say as i literally created hyo and her lore) but i think the closest that comes to crying is like. being very concerned over the other person which has happened often

Do your OC and (canon character) ever cross paths?

YES ‼️‼️‼️ HYO becomes WILL’s work partner through Jack. Jack has known Hyo for a while because she actually used to work for the BAU for a short amount of time before a case got her real fucked up (which is why she has the neck scar) and so she was taken out of duty 👎 She got back into work though after Will unofficially joined because it only made sense

Which canon character annoys your OC?

It’s a tie between DR. CHILTON and HANNIBAL. Okay to be fair, HYO doesn’t like medical professionals/psychiatrists 😭😭😭 so like anyone in those fields already put her on guard due to past trauma. She doesn’t like either of them but unfortunately for her, much like Will, she catches their interest. Another character would be FREDDIE. I think she would get irritated more with Freddie than the other two to be honest. Freddie sticks her nose in Hyo’s personal life which she’s very protective about

What canon character gets annoyed by your OC?

A character that gets like. annoyed. ERMMM. I think ALANA, and not because HYO is like “in the way” between her and Will/Hannibal (at least at first before shit went down) but because she got the vibe that Hyo didn’t like her. Hyo is neutral about Alana leaning towards dislike so Alana’s guess wasn’t entirely off

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

In all honesty, it’s a toss up between BEV and WILL. Bev really respects HYO a lot because of how she handles cases with a dedicated focus and desire to solve it and how she tries her best to not get lost in her own head. WILL has pretty much the same reason too

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

ERMMMM. THIS IS A GOOD QUESTION I DONT KNOW. oh wait that’s a lie i do know. Probably FREDDIE. Freddie is all up in Hyo’s personal life it’s so bad 😭😭😭

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

HYO respects BEV, WILL, and JACK a whole lot. She really appreciates them and what they do not only for her but for other people as well. They’re people who she knows is doing what they think is genuinely right

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

HYO does not give a flying fuck about FREDDIE. At all. If there is one thing Hyo absolutely cannot tolerate, it’s when nosey people refuse to give up. She does not take kindly to people digging up and trying to find stuff about her personal life that she’s left in the past, especially not when it’s Freddie. You would see Hyo get so bitchy when Freddie is around

Which canon character is pissed off by the general presence of OC? (we all have those people)

FREDDIE. 😭😭😭 She couldn’t finish like a single question because HYO kept shutting her down. Hyo does that any time when Freddie asks about her

Does your OC have a crush on anyone?

Not a crush, not platonic, but a secret third thing 🎉

Who would probably have a crush on your OC?

This is a good question, I also don’t know 🧍‍♀️ I think WILL to be honest would catch feelings for her but not realize it which is when and why their relationship develops into secret third thing. So Will or another hannibal OC I have who is named VICTOR. I haven’t talked much about him on here but he’s like. I wouldn’t call it a crush necessarily but yeah he’s very not normal about Hyo. He himself would call it a crush but she’s his muse out of many

Who would your OC most likely to get a puppy-crush on? (but it can’t be the cc they’re actually shipped with!)

HYO doesn’t really get puppy crushes 😰 it’s very OOC for her to have like. a puppy-crush on someone 👎 Closest thing I can think of to that would be her middle school best friend #codependentyuri

Who would your OC say is their best friend?

BEV and WILL are HYO’s besties 😋 (also Victor if this is before his case) (after his case then no) Also if we’re including relatives then most definitely her brothers

Who would call your OC their best friend?

BEV, WILL, VICTOR (before and after his case), and HANNIBAL. Also her brothers if we’re including relatives

Who has brought your OC to tears before?

HYO’s middle school best friend ;smiley~1; Both happy tears and sad tears. Mainly sad tears though

Who has your OC made cry?

All of the psychiatrists/therapists/nurses/doctors that have taken care of her 😰

Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

JACK 😭😭😭 She didn’t like Jack when she first met him, but then he started to grow on her and now she respects him a lot

Is there someone your OC liked at first, but then grew to dislike?

UMMM. The first nurse that took care of her 😰 That was the transition to the horrors

Who does your OC hate?

FREDDIE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 and every person in healthcare + mental healthcare that was in charge of her

Who does your OC love? (platonic)

BEV 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Who does your OC love? (familial)

HER PARENTS + BROTHERS + NIECES/NEWPHEWS + HER SON DAISUKE 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Does your OC love anyone? (romantic)

NOT ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC BUT SECRET THIRD THING WILL GRAHAM 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Has your OC ever had to let a canon character down easy?

I WOULDN’T THINK SO??? Let down as in like. Reject someone? The way I’m interpreting this question is rejecting a character softly because they had a crush on her. In that case, no 😋

Has your OC ever been rejected by a canon character?

HYO isn’t a confession type of girlie so no ❌ she’s all about yearning looks and soft smiles

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

I’m a little stumped on this question. Full character arc so im thinking of like the changes the characters went through that the show went over and not like. all the way from the start #birth character arc. Because if it’s not the latter then that would be majority of the cast no?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

Um. 🧍‍♀️Really good question. I think the worst HYO has ever done was like beat up people really badly when she was in middle school, but she hasn’t killed anyone (i dont think) (this is subject to change)

What is your OC’s ‘‘darkness moment’’ in the plot?

SHE HAS A LOT OF THOSE 😭 FROM THE MOMENT SHE CALLED THE COPS ON HER BEST FRIEND WHO ENCOURAGED HER TO DO IT TO THE REALLY BAD TREATMENT JN THE HOSPITALS

What is your OC’s redemption moment?

I think a huge redemption moment for her was adopting/meeting DAISUKE, that’s when most of her most of her bad habits started to break like smoking

Is there a canon character that your OC needs to ask forgiveness towards?

No I don’t think so, I don’t think there’s any moments where she has hurt someone who didn’t deserve it

Is there a canon character your OC needs to forgive?

I think JACK owes HYO a huge apology 😭 she doesn’t NEED to forgive him but he still owes her a big ass apology for being an asshole and pushing her boundaries

Is there anyone who your OC would die for?

HYO would die for DAISUKE and/or her brothers. She feels very protective over them 🫡

Is there a canon character who would die for your OC?

UMMM. I have no idea tbhsies 😰😰😰

#stars have received : asks !#stars have received : lane <3 #stars have received : hyo

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jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 9 months ago

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I'm thinking thinky thoughts about your fics and how you have a wonderful sense of setting weight.

'Setting weight' being a term I made up for how much weight an author puts on the setting of a scene.

To use examples, Tolkien puts a massive amount of time and energy into his settings. On the other end of the spectrum (and I have thrown a dart at the wall here) I'd put Chuck Palahniuk. Oh, he has settings - office buildings, fight clubs, self help groups - but there's little physicality to those settings. They exist to paint a theme.

But in both cases, the author rarely connects the character to their setting. To its history or its meaning, yes, but not to the sensation of the character within the space.

So as I sat there, beginning to reread Not to Me, Not If It's You, I was struck by how lovely your sense of setting weight is. I think back to this opening image a lot. To Jamie, sitting alone on a bed in a hospital in Qatar, watching the World Cup on this small TV. The space Jamie inhabits here is very clear. You cannot dissect him from this setting and have the same meaning ring through

Take Apologies From My Tongue, And Never Yours. Colin and Jamie on the bus. What's so special about that, you may ask? They're on a bus. Characters be on the team bus all the time. Well, yes, but do they often feel like they're on a bus? It's small, but sometimes the setting really is just a passing mention of where a thing happens to take place.

Rage, Rage, Against the Dying of the Light takes place in a hospital, but more importantly (to me) it feels like a hospital. It feels like, even if the author isn't focused on writing about the setting, they're not forgetting that the setting exists. The room stays in the room with us. It's not an after thought.

The cab ride snippet you posted for the fic you're writing on, that also had an excellent sense of just... space. The space the characters inhabit. It's a sort of visual I can feel through the words. It feels real without overwhelming to a Tolkien-esque degree.

I don't feel like I've explained this right, but especially with your last few fics, it's something I've begun to really notice. Just. Setting weight. Good stuff. I know this is more technical appreciation than anything else, but I thought I'd share how much I enjoy this aspect of your writing <3

Thank you for these generous words and fuck you for making me FEEL ALL THE THINGS. (anyone outside of the TL fandom going to read that like damn girl, relax).

I’ve been thinking about this a normal amount (that's a lie I will cherish this until my dying day I want it used as my euology) but I still can't form words enough to do it justice, it's all shrimp emotions.

But seriously, thank you (which does not feel like enough) for your amazingly nice words and taking the time to send them and looking at my works. It's really an honour to have you read them and that they had any impact that you would remember them is absolutely flooring me.

And it's especially an honor because you are one of the authors I try to emulate with this particularly. There are so many amazing authors in this fandom that I learn from everyday and I while I look at your work with admiration for many, many aspects, I especially have tried to learn from your stories and their setting weight (wonderful term btw!).

Thank you so much for taking the time to share this with me, it's especially helpful when I'm struggling through the normal writer horrors. The imposter syndrome is real and especially because there are so many amazing writers here I often struggle comparing myself. The doubting voice in the back of my mind has been especially loud lately. I think there is no other land is the fic I have had the most interest about on here which is amazing and exciting but also fucking terrifying.

The mortifying ordeal of being known, am I right?

All of this rambling to say THANK YOU, for these wonderful, kind, thoughtful words but also THANK YOU for being you and inspiring me, for talking me through whatever story help I need, for giving me story ideas, for being the extremely supportive person you are, for your kudos, comments and bookmarks, for sharing my work or snippets, for sharing cat photos, for absolutely FEEDING me with your works and snippets (where I can be found laughing and/or crying on a regular basis), for sharing your thought provoking analysis.

But most importantly, thank you for your friendship. I am beyond blessed to have the wonderful people in this fandom but especially you. I do not miss all the support you spread through tumblr and ao3 and I have no doubt everywhere you go. You are a joy and I smile everytime I see your name (and esp after I realized you and @jamiesfootball were one in the wonderful same lmao).

Now stop being so nice to me ;)

#wahhhhhhhhhh #seriously I am unwell with how nice you are to me #whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy #If I can't deflect with thanks I got it on sale or thanks it has pockets I don't know what to do #all this to say thank you #but thank you will never be enough #I have already read this a reasonable amount of times*#*that is a lie #aahhh thank you #love you #you are too nice to me #shrimp emotions #readwing #<33333

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masterwords · 2 years ago

Note

Would you consider writing an angsty fic where Derek corners Hotch in his office to argue with him about his recklessness post Foyet but accidentally triggers a panic attack?

Would I consider? HELL YES I WOULD. I have to say, I wrote about 3 different version of this before I decided this was The One to share. Inspired by THIS, because...yes. (3.2k words)

**** barely breathing ****

He hasn't seen Derek outside of work in weeks. Not just 34 days, longer than that. There was the pig farm, and before that was the fucking anthrax that put Reid in the hospital and stopped up all the works.

34 days plus a lifetime, unless you count those fractions of time he can barely remember while he was in the hospital. They solved a case while he was in surgery, while he was dead. They called him repeatedly, messages from JJ filled his voicemail (he never did listen to them, just emptied the whole thing) but it was hours before anyone checked. More before they appeared at the hospital.

He's keenly aware they're talking behind his back. They quietly assume he's a ticking time bomb and would rather aid him in pretending nothing happened than risk being the one to set it off. They assure themselves with confidence that this is the best way. Maybe the only way. Things can return to normal if Hotch is normal, and if you go by appearances...well his hair is neatly trimmed and his face is clean shaven and those suits never looked quite so tailored.

Things are normal because he checks all of their boxes. They never look any closer than they have to and he's learned not to concern himself with their casual nonchalance. It works in his favor most of the time if what he wants is to hide in plain sight.

But it does bother him that he hasn't seen Derek, that they haven't been alone together. Part of that, a big part, was his fault. It wasn't like Derek hadn't tried. It wasn't like he didn't call, but the team has had cases and Derek was pulling double duty with Hotch being out so when it came time to call him back, to ask him to come over because he wasn't cleared to drive yet...well it just felt wrong. So he didn't. He made excuses about being tired. They weren't lies, but tired had never stopped him before. Tired was always his excuse for stopping at Derek's instead of going all the way home. Tired was usually his reason.

He used to stay at work until too late, then show up on Derek's doorstep wrecked from the day. They would shower and Derek would wash his hair, massage his scalp gently until the day melted off of him because Derek says he loves you with generous amounts of physicality and Hotch can't get enough of that. It was sweet and gentle but more often than not that was foreplay, and after their shower they would land in bed and fuck until they fell asleep. Those days are lost to him now. Not even a distant memory, it's like they belong to someone else entirely and when he thinks about them it feels like mourning. That man died on the table, and this creature that emerged from the hospital more scar than skin, more pain than love shoved itself into that old man's suits and did the best job pretending that it could.

“You got a minute?”

He didn't expect Derek to knock on his door. Hell, he didn't even realize anyone had shown up yet. “Sure,” he mutters, closing the case file he'd been reviewing. Darrin Call stared up at him accusingly, calling him a failure. “I couldn't stop him,” he'd said as he stormed out of that house, but that was a little bit of a lie, wasn't it? He didn't mind Darrin shooting his father because wouldn't he like to shoot Foyet? Have some kind of vengeance on the man who torched his life so completely?

He looks up at Derek expectantly. A part of him has this little dream that Derek is going to be gentle, hell maybe he'll just ask him a work question, but mostly he knows that he's in trouble. Derek is at work two hours early and the reason is written all over his features.

“Finally,” Derek says, pulling a chair up beside Hotch's desk. “You sure you're not too tired?”

Hotch glares but says nothing. He deserves this, he knows it.

“Yeah, okay, silent treatment. I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“I'm not giving you the silent treatment, Derek,” Hotch says quietly and Derek thinks he sounds a little breathless. Not enough to be troubling, but some small voice in his head tells him to approach with caution.

He doesn't listen. “Look, man. We don't have much time so I'm just gonna say what I need to say so we can clear the air, yeah?”

Hotch nods, he figures that sounds fair. As fair as he has a right to ask.

“I need to know if I can trust you. I need to understand how you were cleared for duty 34 days after you bled out under Foyet's knife. How you let Emily drive you to and from work yesterday instead of calling me. How you've been in touch with Dave, he knows all sorts of shit and I'm here in the dark. You used to show up at my house in the middle of the night, and you'd crawl into my bed...under my sheets, remember that? Fuck, I had a key to your place last month. Now you don't even look at me. You're always too tired to talk to me. I know you changed your locks and didn't bother to give me a new key. And you know what? Fine, you're really going through it and apparently, I'm the last person you want around you. I don't know what I did to make you feel that way, but I can respect that what happened is a lot for someone to handle and you can take your time. I'm not going anywhere; I'll be here when you want me around again. But I still gotta know I can trust you at work not to go and put yourself in danger, not to put the team in danger, not to put victims in danger.”

“You didn't do anything.” Of all the pieces of that monologue, Hotch grabs hold of that. It's the most important part. He's not going to justify his decisions as Unit Chief just because they're afraid he's off his game. Maybe he'd have to consider his ability to lead the team soon but for now there really hadn't been any unnecessary loss of life, no one important was hurt, he'd done his job. But making Derek feel responsible for something he didn't do, that part hurt. Because it wasn't true. It caught in his throat, obstructed his breathing for a little too long. He's more than a little stunned by the weight of Derek's words. “You didn't.”

“Yeah? Well that doesn't help me right now. Thanks but no thanks.”

“What can I say?” Hotch asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. His fingertips feel electric and that's never a good sign. He knows what's coming, there is a feeling of doom, of a speeding freight train about to slam into his chest. He's pressing hard on his ribs with static fingers to keep himself together. He glances at the clock and then at the door, they still have time which means Derek is going to continue and he's got to get his shit together. He squeezes his arms tighter against his chest, frowns to focus himself and braces for the impact.

“You know, all I want is some honesty, if that's not too much to ask. No bullshit, none of your canned responses, just one honest thing and I'll leave you alone. I'll walk outta this office and we're cool.”

Hotch, already on the verge of tears, agrees. What else is there to do? He certainly owes Derek at least that much. And if he can just get that answer out, whatever it is, then Derek will leave and he can return to the safety of case files.

“What do you want to know?” Derek hears it again, that breathlessness. It's more pronounced this time and it dictates the question he asks – he thinks it's a simple one, a simple question with a simple answer. And he's pretty sure he already knows what the answer is anyway, so it'll be easy to detect the lie.

“Why'd you take the vest off, Hotch? I get why you wanted to go into that house by yourself, and as pissed as I am about it...I'll get over it. But why the fuck did you take off the vest? Go in unprotected?”

Not the question Hotch expected, not even close. With the last gust of air in his lungs, he lets the words speak themselves. The room becomes a vacuum, walls stretching tall and thin while his voice rattles through what's left of his already paper-thin defenses.

But the answer is easy. He doesn't want to say it, but it's so easy it's almost silly.

“It hurt.”

For one beautiful second, his chest stops hurting and the world doesn't collapse in on him and he thinks huh, maybe it works. Maybe telling the truth really can set you free. The way Derek blinks at him, slow and owlish, he thinks he's said something wrong. That Derek thinks he's lying. He tries to open his mouth to clarify that the vest is heavy and tight and his fucking stomach, his chest, his body just hurts so bad all the time but he doesn't get that far before his vision goes spotty and gray. He's on so many new medications that none of this comes as a shock to him, his body is a wreck and he's barely hanging on by a thread.

Hotch screws his eyes shut and tightens his arms over his chest in a desperate attempt to make himself smaller, to fold himself up. He hinges forward until his arms touch his thighs and his sandpaper lungs scrape as he gasps in and out hoping for air. He's dying. His heart is going to explode. The pulse in his head is a thundering river.

The door is closed, and the blinds are pulled, the lights go out and he's keenly aware of each thing but not how they happen. Little changes in his world, so quick he picks them up and then it's just like they always were. The lights were never on. And, like an answer to a question he never asks, Derek's hand is resting warm and heavy against the back of his neck. He'd almost forgotten Derek was there when everything vanished around him. Derek meat-hooks him, an old boxing move, just hooks the back of his neck in one hand and pulls him close. Manhandles him. Derek doesn't ask him what's wrong or what's happening, Hotch's anxiety has been a pillar of their relationship since the beginning, in much the same way as Derek's nightmares. Shared hotel rooms on slim FBI budgets leave very little to the imagination, and when they did manage to have separate rooms well, they always came with paper thin walls.

“I'm sorry,” Derek whispers, crouching beside Hotch. He's not sure what exactly he's sorry for, there's so much running through his mind right now. He could be sorry for just about anything, honestly. That he'd just taken his anger out on a man who was already beaten to pulp. That any of it had even happened in the first place. That he hadn't been there. That his damn credentials were left with him in the ER and it should have been him that Foyet went after. There were more things to be sorry for than stars in the sky, so he squeezed the back of Hotch's neck and rested his forehead against Hotch's trembling shoulder.

Hotch needs quiet. Derek has learned that one simple fact over the years. At first he thought he should tell him to breathe, coax him through it, that's what people said you should do. His therapist used to tell him to find three things he could touch, three he could taste, three he could smell. Some variation of that, and it worked about as well as could be expected...on him. Not Hotch. He quickly found that it only made Hotch feel worse. Only made the panic settle in harder, hold with a firmer grip. “It hurts, Derek,” he gasped pitifully, his ribs expanding painfully, flaring wider and wider as he tried to suck breath into his ailing lungs. Not quite hyperventilating, but dangerously close. “It hurts. All the time. It never stops.”

“I'm sorry,” Derek whispers again, shaking his head. “I'm so sorry. It will...it will stop...” He runs his hand from Hotch's neck down his back and up again, slow and heavy. Hotch moans and hugs himself tighter to try and stave off the pain of his ribs ripping him open. Up and down Derek's hand moves, trying to help him remember the motion, how to draw breath.

It's a fast one. Derek has seen him through some that he thought would never end, that left Hotch worn and wasted for hours after. He's seen him through some that even made him panic and think about hospitals. This one was fast, just a couple of minutes, and he's thankful for that. When the tension relaxes in his shoulders and his breaths come in smaller and shakier but without so much effort, Derek raises his head and really takes in the sight of Hotch hunched over there in his suit and tie and he gets it.

He gets it. Can't believe he missed it.

Reid got shot in the leg, and they all see it every day. They see the crutches and they ask him how he's feeling because they're constantly reminded of what happened. It's front and center. But all of Hotch's injuries are buried beneath his suit and his scowl. Nothing left but vicious scars and it was easy to believe that because the skin had healed, so had the wounds themselves. He was up and walking, he was behaving like he always did.

He hadn't let them see his wounds. Derek wasn't surprised by that, he wouldn't have either. The police took their photos for the reports, photos that probably mirrored Foyet's own, and Jessica sat in the room with him. Jessica, angry Jessica, standing sentinel as they poked and prodded and asked questions he didn't want to answer. Not in front of her, not in front of anyone, about being violated in his own home. She'd shown up out of a sense of duty to her sister, forgetting briefly that he was even her friend. He was the source of pain, and she'd prepared so many awful things to say to him, to shout at him, as she flew across town going nearly twice the posted speed limit in places only to end up crying at his bed side. Because she loved him so damn much, and seeing him there...like that...she didn't leave the hospital again. She was the only one he let stay.

So, none of them saw anything but a few scraps of gauze on his arms, when the real mess was beneath a hospital gown and a blanket and he kept it there. It could have been hiding anything.

Derek has taken this man to bed more times than he can count and he still hasn't seen what Foyet left behind for him. He knows Foyet was thinking about him when he did it, in some sick twisted way. Like a cat who drags a bird inside, fucks it up, feathers and blood and guts everywhere...a gift. I love you, see how much I love you? Fear me, because I can do this to you too. He can feel Foyet when he stands close to Hotch. Foyet who focused on Hotch, but wants to remind Derek how lucky he is to have been allowed to live.

“Please let me back in,” Derek pleads, finally. He thought he was okay with waiting, with being patient, but fuck. He couldn't do this. It was torture.

“I can't,” Hotch whispers back, his voice barely more than the sound of wind whistling through reeds on a summer night. It's ghostly. It scares Derek.

“Why not? What the hell did I do?” He knows he's treading in dangerous waters and he's really trying not to hit any trip wires, not to set Hotch off again. It's the last thing he wants.

“Nothing. You didn't do anything...” Hotch gasps, and he thinks the panic is setting in again. His breath hitches and his chest expands painfully but he presses his palm to his sternum and he sucks breath after breath in through his nose. It works. “Foyet is watching me. I can feel it. He's waiting until he can get you too. You can't...be around.”

“Oh, man, fuck Foyet.”

“That isn't how this works.” Hotch knows that Derek keeps that bullet in his desk, that he looks at it every day to remind himself of how close he was. He knows that Foyet is torturing Derek, too. But he can stop it from going any further.

“Why? Because he says so? I don't take orders from that sonofabitch. He does not get to steal your family and your life. Let him come at me, Aaron. I fucking dare him. Weeny ass string bean.”

Hotch smiles, just a little, through the tears. His nose is running and he fumbles around in his pocket for his handkerchief. “He got me.”

“Yeah, cos that chickenshit hid in your apartment and took you by surprise after a really fucking bad day. Any other time and he's leaving in a body bag, you know it. That guy is a coward and nothing more. He knows it, too, that's why he did you like he did.”

Hotch is sort of stunned for a moment, because in all the thinking he'd done over the last month and some change...he hadn't ever bothered to consider that. Not that he couldn't eventually have arrived at that conclusion himself but hearing it from Derek felt almost like a weight being lifted from his chest.

“Come on. You know that coward can't take us both. Come stay with me for a few days, just the weekend even. Clooney misses the shit outta you and I'm sure he'd love to snack on Foyet if he dares to show his ugly mug around my place.”

Before Hotch can answer, there's a knock at the door and Derek stands up. He's going to answer it while Hotch does his best to pull himself together. On the other side of the door is JJ with the worst words she can possibly say at that time. Neither of them are surprised.

“We've got a case, guys. It's a bad one.” She always says that, it is pretty meaningless now, but she notices that Hotch's eyes look red and raw, and Derek looks a little disheveled. Worn out. She knows she's interrupted something important and she doesn't feel good about it. “I'll start debriefing the team, we can catch you up on the jet. Take your time.”

“Thanks, Jayj.”

He closes the door again, briefly, and glances over at Hotch who is doing his best to remove tear tracks from his cheeks. Derek thinks it's kind of cute, the way he dabs at his skin with that old embroidered handkerchief.

“Rain check?” he asks hopefully, and Hotch nods.

“Rain check.” Maybe they'll go home together when they get off the jet.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotch #morgan #hotchgan #aaron hotchner x derek morgan #SO MUCH ANGST

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beastenraged · 10 months ago

Text

The AUTISM (my experience)

I’ve spent more of my life aware of my autism than not aware of it, at this point.

I got my diagnosis the winter before my freshman year of high school and it was extremely exciting for myself.

For the first time in my life, I knew why it was so hard to talk to people, why I loved reading so much, why various objects were so noisy and loud and bad to touch at times. (Why no one wanted to be my friend.)

As part of that experience, I was on the high of self-awareness. I wanted to tell my friends and for a few, I did. I wanted EVERYONE to know, I am autistic!

Only for that to not...go so great.

People said stuff like “You don’t seem autistic.” Every bit of their tone and words implied that autism was a Bad Thing, even to an individual less than savvy about social interaction such as me.

I tried to explain. I tried to say, “Well, that’s not true, I’ve just been working very hard to fit in.” “Don’t you know what it means to have autism, this is what it means-”

But no one wanted to listen. People have their own ideas of what autism is, you see. A teenage girl that read all the time in the back of the class, getting good grades on everything, and didn’t keep up on the latest gossip, doesn’t fit into those ideas.

Ideas I’m going to touch on, just you wait.

I’ve spent a heavy amount of my time in school, before and after my Revelation, being jealous of Autistic Boys TM.

The ‘boys’ is the important part, you see. They fit in every autistic stereotype almost perfectly. They talk nonstop about topics most people don’t even care about, like trains and planes and bugs and elevators. They’re louder than usual. They fall into very noticeable meltdowns when it’s too loud, too bright. They punch people, even, in the more extreme cases.

But people smiled at them in school. Nodded and pretended to listen in ways they never did with me. Never told them they were wrong for existing. And I envied these boys for that.

Because they’re allowed, you see. They’re allowed to be obnoxious and unable to fit in, because they have autism, you got it? How terrible that these boys have autism, they’ll never be able to have normal lives!

They’re allowed to exist as they are, because they’re pitied for it.

The first thing to learn, having autism: that you’re only allowed to be autistic if you’re pitiable.

That’s what people assume, if you learn later than usual that you’re autistic, that you’re looking for pity.

When in reality you’re looking for understanding. For a reason, no matter how terrible, your life has been the way it has up to this point. And beyond.

Only children have autism, don’t you get it? Small pitiable creatures that have no control over their lives. Autistic children never grow up, in the minds of the public.

But where does that leave the rest of us?

Where does that leave me?

Well. Getting angry, I guess. Anger burning through my veins and heart.

I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to figure out how to function in a world that isn't made for me. Done things like studying how social interactions work, take in as much nerd culture as possible so I could talk to said nerds about anything they wanted to, practiced work interviewing over and over. So many small pieces for the mask the world wants to see.

Only for it not to matter. Not really.

There’s always going to be a person that just gets it, understands the interviewers down to the base level, in a way that I would have to study for years to comprehend. Who gets picked because of that, nevermind how hard I worked for the same.

Sometimes I ask for help, and it only ends up in being treated like an infant.

So much of my life makes me angry at its unfairness. At how I feel like I have to lie about who I am for anyone to accept me, for me to do anything.

And lying, as they say, is a thing autistics hate.

But it’s not always like that. There are people that want me to work as I am, who are very happy at my neurodivergent ability to just do the same thing over and over without getting extremely bored with it.

People who tell me that they’re happy that I’m sharing my experiences, that there’s someone else out there who’s autistic like they are.

People who fight to get more studies on how autism works in the brain, how it shows up in people outside those Autistic Boys TM.

The world’s already better when it comes to information on autism than it was when I was younger, and it was better then than it was for my dad before me.

So.

I am Autistic and proud of it.

I hope you can be proud too.

#long post #ableism #autism #personal #i ain't giving up #not any time soon #and i don't want any other neurodivergents to either

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just-my-type-x · 2 years ago

Note

All the boys seem heavily revolved around partying and drinking and clubbing etc. especially with their friends. Thats kinda why I asked - like would any of them be with someone not like that and how that would impact friendships and stuff if you weren't.

I don't vibe with that lifestyle and have opinions on those that do (excessively) and is partly why I have doubts around the boys being genuinely good people. Sorry this was a rant and I'm just babbling here - no hate intended to anyone.

Not gonna lie, i was really confused about which boys u're talking about because everything u said is so similar to the sam and colby case haha. It took me a second to remember the ask

I didn't know u were referring to that, so thank u for clearing that up. I don't think that partying and hanging out at a drink with the friend group is something that should define u as being wild or not nice. At the same time, it also doesn't mean that u're entirely nice. But i feel like they do nothing wrong. I know English people are usually party people, Irish too, i know this from my cousin who goes to uni with these nationalities so to say. Maybe partying is in their blood 😂😂

But also, i don't think they party that much. Maybe after the concerts it's bound to happen if they're in a really good mood and when they have days off too. I don't see them going out too often tbh. And even if there are pictures from one night at a club, the next ones are in like a month or something. It's definitely possible that they go out more than what the pictures amd timelines show, but i think it's still a normal and healthy amount of going out and partying.

I share the same feeling as u, like not necessarily liking the people who excessively do this. I would say tho that i hope they don't overdo it with drinking. At weddings (just like James' wedding case where they were really drunk) is something else, but drinking too much is too much haha. Still, i don't think they do that. They really seem responsible, they're grown men at last

#brad simpson #the vamps

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izzysarchivedblogs · 1 year ago

Text

Tony's here. Doing that thing he doesn't deserve. Caring.

It's not as weird as he thought it'd be. It's awkward as hell and he feels guilty, but it's not weird. That they slept together. Tony showed up which means something. It didn't ruin them. The stupid bastard was here, and that means he failed at icing him out.

Fuck, he should not have opened the door. Now it's going to be awkward. The only saving grace was the paper coffee cup held tightly in one of Tony's hands, that was promptly shoved into his hands. There's a relieved exhale at the warmth of the cup still, it was fresh and he forgets to invite Tony in because he's distracted with sweet, sweet caffeine.

❝ My hero. ❞

He had needed that today. Seventh cup already. How he hadn't given himself heart problems with the amount of coffee in his veins was a miracle. One he won't call out. It relaxes him just enough to accept the guy he didn't call was now sitting in his living room. A bag of food deposited on the coffee table which saves Clint from leftovers again.

Blue eyes are scanning around his apartment, peaking up at the loft and trying to make sure that nothing was too suspicious. It's a little messier but not a bad as that one Christmas or in the past. He was alright two days ago, or had a better day.

❝ Haven't you heard of the irresistible factor test? I don't call and I score a perfect 10 if you show back up within two weeks. ❞ He scoffs a laugh, as he finds nothing too out of place and goes to join Tony on the couch. ❝ I just passed it, with a perfect 10. See, I can't miss. ❞

Okay, being closer was a little weirder than normal. The man kissed him, refused to let Clint shove him out, and now he's hear again and he didn't call. Would lying and saying he was gonna call about a new air conditioning unit be better? He considered it, would have done it eventually.

Clint focuses on the coffee in his hands for a solid thirty seconds before his hands are in the takeout bag, trying to find out what was for food. He could eat, he could always eat unless he couldn't eat. Today was an eat day. He's pulling out, about to pop open a foam box when Tony's produces a plastic case and tosses at it.

❝ What the- ❞ Food dropped as he reflexively moves to grab the case. He shuts up as Tony explains. They weren't tiny which Clint was glad for, he hated the damn stealth hearing aids that were like tiny earplugs that Shield made him wear. Hidden, like he was supposed to be ashamed, like no one was suppose to know.

His left eye burns and he wills himself not to get choked up because Stark's made something new, to the shape of his ear and they were purple, and they would be visible when he was wearing them. They looked nice, and they came with bells and whistles. Clint wants to shove Tony Stark, because he was fine, he didn't deserve this or need this.

Sound dampeners. He needed that. Crowded rooms bothered him a lot. His current model was Stark tech, but ones that could be bought at very low and affordable price, the ones anyone could buy because he was never going to ask for something special made. These were that. Fuck, he should just kill Tony, save Clint the guilt that he was feeling.

❝ You didn't have to do that. ❞ Thank you is what he means. He already had a headache, very dull and only at the back of skull, so swapping to new aids wasn't going to be an issue. Might as well swap them now, than ruin a headache-less day by making his brain and ears adjust to something new. He takes a moment to swap them out. The other ones will go into one of his stashes or put in his emergency gear kits, just in case.

❝ I was going to. ❞ Liar. ❝ Eventually. ❞ Liar. ❝ I've been fine. ❞ Liar.

❝ I'm giving the air-con one more month before I'll replace her. I would have called you about that. ❞ That's not one hundred percent a lie. It's more depedent upon if he could bring himself to get a new air conditioner. ❝ She's working just fine. No reason to fire her yet. ❞

Sorry, he should maybe say. ❝ What's up, Iron Pants? Your harem of women been tearing you a new one or...? ❞

Tony can hear Clint on the other side of the door moving things around. He knows that Clint is aware he knocked. Even if he didn't hear it, Lucky is barking up a storm. Besides, Tony saw the shadow at the door of Clint's huge feet and the way the light changed in the peephole when he looked through it. So there's a few options for what's going on right now.

The first is, Clint thinks he's an idiot and is pretending he doesn't know there's someone there and/or hoping that Tony thinks there's no one home. Alternatively, he's hiding something or putting on some clothes. Finally, he's trying to get his window open so he can escape out the fire escape.

Whatever the option, Tony will give Clint some time to dress/hide whatever he's hiding and if he doesn't open the door he'll break in. Bonus points for if he has tried leaving through the fire escape, in that case, when Clint gets back, Tony will also kick his ass.

After some scraping and door slamming Clint finally opens the door. "Just for you," Tony says and pushes the takeout cup into Clint's hands and use it to guide him out of the way, so Tony can push past. He glances around the room. The couch is made up for someone to sleep in. No one is here though, so either Clint's sleeping on it, or his guest is out for the moment. Or he supposed Clint could have shoved them into his bedroom as the door has been shut. Sucks for that person then, they'll be hiding in there for a long fucking time.

Tony drops the takeout bag on the coffee table and flops onto the couch, putting his feet up on the table next to the back and crossing one ankle over the other. "You didn't call me," he snarks as he fishes around in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. "And we had such a nice date, Cupid. I was thought you might be the one."

His fingers close around the smooth plastic case he'd manufactured for the new hearing aids and he pulls them out and tosses them to Clint. "Here. Try these. I had them modeled to the shape of your ear. Do not ask how I had a 3D model of that. You don't want to know. They have a background sound dampener for when you're in a really noisy space so it doesn't all just become a mess of sound. It filters out any sounds of things rubbing against them. And I can install something on your phone that you can target them onto something specific. Even if it's on the other side of a noisy room. You know, sneaky spy shit. Oh and bonus features of being fairly resistant to both water and EMPs. Not proof. Just resistant. Don't intentionally go leaving them in glasses of water over night."

He takes a sip of his coffee and looks up at Clint. "Why didn't you call me?"

#ic; clint barton #mrtonystark #thank you so much <3 i love your tony a lot and just you've been amazing <3 #it's so nice to connect over these two disasters #consider clint offers to go with tony to meet his mom :))#content warning #alcohol cw #drinking cw #dark cw #self harm cw #suicidal idealation cw #violence cw #abuse cw #verse; clint barton; who shares your burdens (mrtonystark)

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countryhumans-drawerist · 9 months ago

Text

"Why do you like me?" (Amephil Story)

Hello, here to show you my self made story, it's still on its preliminary stages, so I apologize for the spelling mistakes! Please correct and give out constructive criticism, thank you!

America paced through the front door with agitation of whomever it is to come, and he was absolutely dreading it, but don't let him deter it from the fact it was a necessary sacrifice. He snorted, all of this was sounding itself to be an awful narration of a story if he were to ask. He then shuffled in place, unable to stay long as his anxiety still shook him to have that of an adverse effect.

He preferred the USA, as it is more specifically referring to him, and nobody else is mistaken in the process of his name being called, yet to the insistence of completely everybody except him, had decided by whatever council of fate had blessed(read: cursed) him with the title of America for their excuse was simply, they have gotten used to the designatory leaving their lips with the thought behind their eyelids was his imaginary self in their self-reflective perspectives, oftentimes an exposure of how they perceive people and interpret their behavior.

So now he was stuck with the blasted entitlement that wasn't his namesake.

Screw this, he would've internally thought so himself, as for once he realizes not twice, nor thrice, but abundantly amount of times the extent that they tend to overshadow himself and somewhat find the semblance and the audacity that HE is the one who manages to be stereotypically overconfident and with the zeal and zest for life that is bigger than his being, and from where they caught or found that kind of personality in him was a wonder.

"USA?" And then a breath of fresh air was by an instant, intermittently fed through his lungs when he turned to look up and - was greeted by a too familiar face, very familiar in fact. He would've bolted his way outside the building if only she weren't, blocking the godforsaken doorway.

Philippines, now where were they? Ah right, recalling the moments of who made them the standing intimidating gal at least for him, what led to them becoming a cat and mouse dynamic asked by the dismay of nobody? He'll deliver and answer it just fine without anyone backing him up, the Philippines had picked up on his own lonesome, whether it was because she was an extrovert who empathized what it was like and misdirected the scene entirely in their head from the assumption that he was, utterly and cripplingly cut off from company in purpose, or a sympathetic compassionate individual who wants to heal him from his presumed butthurt feelings.

He wasn't, he can attest, he was tired of the people's demands over his head that were looming on the top wherein it could drop anytime soon and he would be a shell of who he is due to the sheer magnitude of stress they're willing to put him up with to fix their own dilemmas and issues they've presented, you'd think they'd be the one to do it, but no... they still rely on him and never once they thought to be independent, and so he snapped. Luckily that abated their prying influences and attention for a temporary while, which he then diverts his last dredges of energy to make an escape from the crowds to intake the reward for peace, from what he heard so and so was a rarity in his country nowadays.

Returning to the case of the Philippines of whom he doesn't understand nor care to find out what goes in her head. Secretly though, he wouldn't lie he was a bit, only just a bit oddly curious to earn himself the knowledge of what keeps her on her toes, so that she can be avoided altogether, and to his admittance, her thoughts on him, and her outlook on life. It was a normal interest, believe him, anyone asks the question once in a while. There is a strange delight in deeply comprehending the things that unfold in you when you know the motivations and context behind it, to you, it all made sense down to the very inch, etched in there, that it served a purpose.

Philippines opened her mouth, probably taking advantage over the silence of the previous incursion and distracted look he kept, "So, what are you doing?" Is that all she was going to ask?

And here he thought - oh no, she opted for more words instead, he should've left it at nothing, but fine, let's hear it then, he derisively suggested inward, holding the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't mean to be less than amicable but lately since the incident of USA/America which could've been avoided overall if they had just listened to his pleas, that fell into deaf ears, then he would've been in a lighter mood than he is currently. There's also the affair that was related to his own behavior, which he was scolded for, and he was following through his activities with no worries at all! What warranted such a reprimand? His actions weren't even anything remotely like they represented he was doing at all! But of course, information that he hid, that they don't know, won't know, strikes again. He almost regrets keeping confidential matters, almost.

Sensing his emotions acutely, because there's no other explanation for how she figured that out, "You're thinking about your name, aren't you?" He froze on the spot, he panicked, though figuring out showing it on his expression would catch her gotcha points, so he settled to a blank look that was convincing even to himself.

"What makes you think that?" 'Okay USA, I think you need to tone/bog down on your convincing display of irritation', he chided internally. He also thought this hit two birds if she were to expound on the concern, had flowed in a similar wavelength and went through the same conclusions as him.

She answered casually with a, "People were talking about it, and I caught wind of what they said... are you really all that?" She couldn't hold back a twitch in her smile, what did she find so funny about the situation?

Her eyes widened, as his gaze turned hostile, "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to offend - it's been a long time since I last talked to you..." She huffed, looking longingly at the side before snapping when she realize she was reminiscing the lost memories. At least she had the propriety to look sheepish enough for her actions. He thought everybody else dropped the pretense ball ever since freedom was in store, being advocated for, arguably he wasn't inserting a commentary, it was just his honest feelings about the circumstances. It isn't that he isn't considering his people, the opposite actually, he was ashamed to know that this is where they led astray to, a hill they'd die on, with the loss of their emotional faculties because it overflowed with shame that it collapsed. But he understands, and he hates the truth he understands, and deeply so when your independence is wrenched away from you and you aren't in control.

He can say that United Kingdom wasn't without his faults, and nothing will ever retract the hurt that was once forcefully inflicted to him. This was one of them.

"It was to my notice that my cognizance of the information that we haven't been in speaking terms lately was on top shape," USA bit out, having to suppress a smirk when a flinch from her was caught in his eye, it was of minimal effort to have someone grasp his insinuations, goes to show that there are people who don't take things for face value, even if tempted or sorely suggested to.

"You'd think they'd contain themselves to their own bubbles rather than, shuffle messages over something unrelated to their case, they're clearly that bored if not even that can satisfy their thirst for drama, whatever happens in the meetings, it is their right to listen in or not, and they chose to prioritize lesser information, the joke is on them." He added, mockingly punctuating each point, as a billboard to a mad scientist does, lest she accuses him of not answering her other statements.

Philippines pursed her lips, as if daring to argue, nevertheless, her resolve was admirable, as all she gave was a restrained judgement that ran course through her countenance. Despite this, he felt the bubbling weight of her pressurecooker of emotions that she was holding and bottling up, switching aspects of her character in her disposition, contorting to various impressions of sentiments she wished to convey, ranging from disillusionment to irritation. The painfully obvious twitches in her eyes, as clear as day, brought forth signs of tension and stress marring her features, painting her older than she actually is. It was nearly as amusing as her vocalized remarks, and readily as foolish. If he were a lesser man, he would've called it adorable. Luckily, he wasn't that kind of man.

"Don't you have anything nice to say about anybody?" Oops, I guess she couldn't handle herself, what a silly girl. He had spoken too soon, he advised himself to tone down on the positivity, he can't expect everyone else to hold themselves hostage. He must be in a terribly condescending mood, honestly, now he wants to test the waters of what makes her tic. A lightbulb went above his head, and there he determined a plan, so he leaned forward, inches away from her face, putting a show of the biggest shit eating grin he could muster before delivering the blow of, "It must be so hard for you to be such a Ms. Nice girl, you're winning it, should I give you a reward for your good behavior?" Wait, the long pause. He couldn't believe his ears on what he muttered, that was... so -

"America!" Both of them shot from their head, craning their neck simultaneously at the intruding visitor, if anyone were to picture them, they would seem exactly like a deer in headlights. What a pair they make, he groaned, not. He mutely excuses himself his presence over the room, leaving the Philippines to deal with the aftermath of the encounter alone, accompanied by their discordant thoughts that was left by the day's escalations of events, that was coincidentally cut off before it could even be processed by both of the parties. Abstenmindedly, as his lidded eyes trailed on the back, from where his head can reach the turn, there she stood, he entertained the notion that they would've - no, could've been a close companion in another life. (What halts you from the principle of friendship in this life, then?)

#amephil #countryhumans #btw I don't tumblr fanfiction so first time #no basis stuff sorry

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Text

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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deceitfuldevil · 3 years ago

Text

Truth Serum

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: While working with Tony and Bruce in the lab you accidentally drink some very experimental truth serum, leading to some unwanted confessions with your coworkers.

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing, lots of dialogue, barely proofread, etc.

Word Count: 1.7K

—

You were busy working with Tony and Bruce in the lab and jokingly Tony placed his latest concoction next to your drink but you didn’t realize until it was too late and you drank Bruce’s experimental truth serum.

“Jesus Tony can you turn down that obnoxious music? I’m so sick of that stupid 70s rock music you’re always playing.”

Tony stopped what he was doing are looked over at you in shock.

“L/n, what the hell are you talking about? You told me you loved my music.”

“Well I lied, I lie to you a lot actually.” You looked up eyes blown wide with dear as you covered your mouth after saying that.

“I did NOT mean to say that.”

“Y/n… did you just take a sip of that beaker Tony so stupidly placed right next to your drink?” Bruce asked pinching the small space in between his eyebrows

You looked down as remorse filled your gut, noticing a small dribble of blue liquid slowly falling down the side of the beaker you obviously just took a drink from. Your eyes life to meet Bruce’s as you slowly nodded a small yes.

“Well, no thanks to Tony now we get to find out if my very experimental truth serum actually works.”

“TRUTH SERUM?!” You shouted, the last thing you wanted was for your team to have unrestricted access to your secrets.

“No thanks to me? Are you kidding Banner? This might be the most fun we have with Y/n all year!” Tony said with a cheeky grin

Your groaned and let your head fall onto the desk you were sitting at. “How long will this last?” You asked muffled

“Best case scenario for you? It could wear off within the next 30 minutes. Worst case scenario? You could be highly responsive and overly truthful for the two days.”

Tony broke out with a loud cackle as he got up from his desk and exited the lab “Good luck kid!”

“And theres no antidote?” You pleaded

“Sorry, but we were barely in the trial phases of creating this and we don’t try to make an antidote unless we know for sure that it works.”

“So how the hell am I supposed to deal with this in the meantime?”

“My best advice? Lock yourself away in your quarters for the next day or so to avoid saying anything unsavory to the rest of the team. Because I don’t have a doubt in my mind Tony left to go and tell the whole team about your little predicament.”

But before you could reply Sam, Rhodey, and Bucky all came running into the lab practically running over each other.

“Okay, I’ve wanted wanted to know. How do you feel really about Redwing?” Sam asked pushing Rhodey and Bucky aside.

“I think you should find a girlfriend so you stop obsessing over a high tech piece of metal.” You said with an unholy amount of sass, already sick of this treatment. Bucky burst out laughing but you sent a pissed off glare his way.

“Don’t think you’re safe either beefcake. You’re 106 years old and still can’t take a joke, not to mention that you’re forgetful as fuck. I mean who the hell just forgets that they have a vibrium arm? I’m not even going to get started on that staring problem you have that you think is so intimidating.” You snapped, shutting everyone in the room up. Before leaving you locked eyes with Rhodey.

“Oh hi Ego Machine! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. I mean who could when you tell that story of how you dropped a tank at the generals feet every single party? I mean, BOOM were you looking to be interesting?”

After shutting every one in that room down you stormed out and locked yourself in your room. You really could tell if you had taken truth serum or just a liquid curse. You never left your room for the rest of the night, not wanting to risk dinner with the team. But you woke up around 5:30 in the morning to. Very strong feeling of hunger, and prayed no one else would be up this early as you snaked down into the kitchen. You walked past Wanda sleeping quietly on the couch as Vision floated peacefully in the corner.

“Creepy motherfucker…” you whispered as you stepped into the kitchen

“What was that you said about my husband?” Wanda said, suddenly on the other side of the counter looking at you with a tilted head. You jumped almost spilling your cereal

“Jesus Christ Wanda! A warning!” You said clutching your head with one hand and the cereal box with the other. But she only looked at you and smiled mischievously

“You can ask anything you want but you’re not allowed to be upset by the answer” you stated plaining, pouring some milk into your bowl.

“Are you talking about the truth serum you took yesterday?” Wanda asked, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, it might not wear off for another 24 hours. Everyones been dying to find how I ‘really’ feel about them since Tony ran his big mouth and told everyone about this stupid serum I drank.”

“You do remember I can read minds, right? I always know when someone’s telling the truth or lying, I just don’t always call them on it.”

“Right.” You said quietly as you stuffed your face with cereal so you could go back to your quarters as soon as possible.

You sat alone in your room unbothered for the next few hours, until you heard a rock at your door.

“Don’t come in! Go away!” You shouted turning the page of your book assuming whoever was on the other side of your door would kindly fuck off. But as a tall man with a mop of silver hair entered your room you sighed dramatically and threw your book at him, missing spectacularly.

“I could’ve sworn I said to NOT come in.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the ever so muscular man making his way over to your bed.

“And when’s the last time I took orders from you?” Pietro said with a smile.

“You never take orders from anyone, I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked off the team yet honestly.” You spat, bitter that he wasn’t respecting your wishes to be left alone. A pit of nerves also started to grow in your stomach the closer he came to you knowing how you really felt about him, and that if he asked there’d be nothing stopping you from telling him the truth.

“Ah, you wound me dragâ.” Pietro says as he mockingly clasps his hands over his heart as if you’d shot him. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“The team tells me you’ve become somewhat of a bitch since yesterday, is that true?” He asked, sitting down at the foot of your bed.

“I’m not a bitch, Tony just tricked me into drinking some of Banner’s experimental truth serum. But you already knew that didn’t you? Either way, spoiler alert. The stupid serum works and probably won’t wear off for another 12 hours. Besides, I’m only a bitch to the team members I don’t like.” Your eyes widened realizing what you just admitted to Pietro

“I suppose that’s true, Wanda did tell me you weren’t too bad when she ran into you this morning.” Pietro said scooting up next to you in bed, normally you’d tell him to fuck off before he got too close so he would know how much you loved being in his arms but when he asked

“Is this okay?” As he stretched his arms over your shoulders pulling you into his chest

“Yeah, I love it when you hold me. Or just touch me in general, always makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.” The confession just spilled right out of your mouth, causing you to once again to clasp a hand over your lips to prevent you from saying anything else.

Pietro looked down at you with a shocked eyes but a smug smile, deciding to push his luck he asked “Then why do you always push me away and tell me to fuck off anytime I hug you?”

“Becwagh wi dwomt vhmnf to nmfh…” you said, keeping your hand over your mouth to muffle your answer. Pietro shook his head light at you as he took your hand off your lips and held it, gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb

“What was that darling?” He said as he cobalt blue eyes poured into yours. It’s like he already knew how you felt but just needed to hear you say it to confirm his suspicions. Months of pinning after you, and now here was his chance. He had no other choice but to act on it. You swallowed the last bit of pride and fear held in your chest and said

“Because I don’t want you to know how I really feel about you.” The last of your walls came crashing down as you smiled gently at the handsome man before you, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his faced inched closer to yours.

“And how do you feel about me dragosté?”

“Like you’re the only person in the world I could ever fall in love with.” That was all Pietro needed to push aside his ego hearing how you really felt about him as he leaned down and closed the gap in between the two of you pressing his soft lips to yours. Moving gently with you as his lips slotted perfectly over yours, you breathe in his musky scent as you ran your hand across his chest pulling him closer to you. Sadly it wasn’t long before you both ran out of air and had to pull away

“So how do you feel now?” Pietro asked with a cheeky grin plastered on his lovestruck face

“Like I could kiss your stupid face all day.” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for a much more heated kiss.

The rest of your afternoon and week into the evening was spent in Pietros arms sharing soft kisses and fleeting touches. Although admittedly he was sad when the truth serum wore off and he couldn’t ask you any and everything under the sun about how you felt about him.

But you’d end up showing him how you felt in other ways later on ;)

—

A/N

Ahhh here’s my 4th post that will be published while I’m away at camp! Found this little bit in my notes as well and just fleshed it out enough to post! Hope this was enjoyable!

Much Love,

—Skyler

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