#is it the dreaded L word gosh please no please don’t let him be in love with me that would be so sad because I’m not 😔👍

[pegging-satan]

Hey what does it mean when a friend tells you that you’re the only one who can make him cum like ??? 🤠

You’re telling me that in the last six months you’ve been blue balled? I’m the only one your dick will get off to? Dude seek help lmao 😀

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

call out my name pt. 2

summary: spencer rushes off to fix things with y/n, but can they really be fixed?

word count: 2,371                                                                                     reading time aprox: 9 mins

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you for all the support and praise i received on here, especially seeing all of my favorite authors comment and reblog my work is so heartening. thank you all so much for the support, you’re the reason why i have the encouragement to continue doing what i love <3

masterlist

part 1

The rain pattered against the window panes, interlocking with the light that shone through the sheer curtains of my apartment. A cold breeze slipped through the crack of the window, letting it venture through the dim room before it graced my skin. Although the sensation hadn’t registered in my mind as the plain beige wall in front of me consumed my attention. 

The hypnotic sound of the rain provided a consistent rhythm that encouraged my introspection. In the entire duration of my break, I’ve let my thoughts filter and organize themselves. I’ve felt powerless against the accusations that my brain has thrown towards me, setting my emotions to the side in a state of suspense. 

My knees were curled up against my chest, my unwashed hair scrunched up against my cheeks, and my sweater was littered with unknown stains and dried tears. Along with the descension of my reasonability, my hygiene followed shortly after. 

I was brought out of my bubble by the buzz of my phone. I turned it off weeks ago from the constant notifications I got from the team, it was only when I received a text message from my mother that I decided to turn it back on for the day. 

I reached over to the side table where my phone laid, feeling my muscles tense up and ache from the lack of movement I’ve done these past weeks. Turning it on, the intense light blinded me, leaving me disoriented. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change of light, I wished that I had been blinded a little longer than I was. 

The notification read ‘New Voicemail: JJ <3’ 

My breath got pushed back in my throat, a wave of discomfort flooding over my entire body as my thumb hesitated over the notification. My lips trembled, swallowing my saliva while a debate ensued between my impulsivity and my timidity. With a numb boost of confidence I hurriedly pressed on the notification, traveling through my phone to hear out her message. 

“Hey Y/N” The message began. “I know that you heard...about what I said to Spence-” Her voice was low and full of penance, although any remorse that I tried to comprehend washed away at her use of Spencer’s nickname. “Gosh, I don’t even - I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for what I said - I - you don’t know how much Spence loves you and how much he talks about you” She sighed, her tone picking up as she praised Spencer. “But what I said was completely inappropriate and I’m so sorry for what I said. Telling Spence that I loved him was way out of line, considering that you’re such a dear friend to me, and especially since things are so complicated with me and Will - I just - I’m so sorry that I told him that I love-” 

The rest of the message was left to the imagination as I forcefully threw my phone against the beige wall, denting it in the process. A flurry of newfound rage clouded my mind, providing a break from the contradicting thoughts that usually engulfed my head. For once, I had directed the emotion towards another individual rather than myself. 

The phone fell with a heavy thud, glass debris flying across the floor, decorating the oak floors with fragments. I could care less about the material expense that I would have to pay; my blind resentment tainting my rationality. 

My chest heaved in exasperation as a novel onslaught of tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Although the quantity of tears were sparse because they were wasted on my self reproach the previous week. I furiously wiped them away, detaching myself from the malicious feeling, a habit I came to develop. 

I adapted to the stupefaction that infiltrated my heart, at times feeling grateful for the ability. The coldness that surrounded my small living room couldn’t compare to the icy innards of my chest. 

Finally collecting my composure, I looked over to a mirror that sat between my bookshelves, taking in my disheveled and ragged appearance. 

JJ wouldn’t look like this

My face contorted into a somber expression, letting my insecurities slip through the hard persona I persisted to instill in myself. I surveyed the filthy environment that surrounded me; the floor was painted with old dirt, the furniture had accumulated colonies of dust, and the roses that sat on the kitchen counters had wilted. 

JJ would never let herself go like this

Who was I kidding? Who was I, Y/N Y/L/N, to compare to a Georgetown graduate, an astounding profiler, and an icon of beauty? 

Well the one thing I had that she didn’t was Spencer

But did I really? 

I was startled out of my grim assessment by a frantic knocking against my front door. I groaned internally, not hesitating to stay where I was situated. I couldn’t handle any human interaction at the moment, frankly I didn’t want any human interaction at all. I’ve learned to love the little cocoon I had built around me, finding serendipity in my self-isolation. 

“Go away!” I attempted to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whimper that sent a sharp pain to my esophagus. I flinched as the knocking became more frantic, the volume elevating along with the forceful jabs against the wood. 

I felt my ears ring, using my hands to alleviate the pounding that attacked my eardrums. I was about to open my mouth to disclose another warning, but a familiar voice had interrupted me. 

“Y/N! Y/N are you in there!” Spencer yelled, slamming his fists against the door between every phrase. 

I froze in my spot, a wave of mixed emotions coming over me as my cheeks flushed at hearing his voice for the first time in a long time. The familiar sound sent shockwaves down my spine and dread silenced my tongue. It felt like I was on high alert, like an animal paranoid of its prey. 

“Y/N! Just - god please tell me you’re at least okay” He stammered in his fit of hysteria, the bangs on the door slowing in rhythm. 

Silence followed his pleas, instilling a sense of relief that I didn’t know I needed. Movement outside stilled, making me think that he had given up his relentless efforts and went elsewhere. I let out a breath that I held in, alleviating the stress that had accumulated inside of me. 

Although the moment that I began to relax into my seat, two blaring shots rattled through the apartment complex. The scent of gunpowder meshed with the dewy air as I jumped out of my seat, startled and alarmed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my palms, the ringing leaving me blindsided. 

“Y/N! Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer rushed in with his gun pointed, his feet clattering against the floor in a haste. 

“What the fuck Spencer” I hoarsely whispered, although the meekly volume of my voice hadn’t penetrated this ears. 

“Y/N!” He called out once again, slowing his movements as his sneakers squeaked with every step he made. 

“I’m here Spencer, I’m here” I repeated, using all my might to push the small phrase off of my tongue. My throat stung at the strain of my voice, a burning feeling eliciting from the back of my throat due to the dryness. This time I had caught his attention.

We locked eyes for a brief moment before I quickly broke our line of sight, insecure about my current appearance; even after a month I still held Spencer’s opinion to the highest magnitude. In the time that I observed him, I noticed that he was drenched in rain water, his hair tangled and strung out from his head while droplets proceeded behind him. 

“I-” He breathed, his words caught in his throat. He dropped his revolver beside him in incredulity, drinking in my battered presence. He didn’t look too well either, his stature was still the same but the bags under his eyes were prominent, his cheeks were puffed from exhaustion, and his posture resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame. 

“W- what are y- you doing here Spencer?” I croaked, rubbing my hands against my arms in an attempt for any type of coverage. 

My senses heightened as I waited for his response. He brought in such a familiar, yet unfamiliar presence with him. It felt like I was home, but so far away from it at the same time. 

Maybe it was the way that I longed for the warmth of his embrace, the calming rhythm of his heart beat while I slept on his chest, and the soothing melody of his voice while he read to me. But maybe it was also the way he hadn’t dared to speak when JJ’s voice was full of love, when he assumed that I hadn’t acknowledged the endearments he received from another woman, and when I became a distant thought in the back of his head. 

I’ve never doubted Spencer’s eidetic memory, but this time I questioned my place in that brilliant mind of his. Maybe for the first time, I was the one thought that had ceased to exist. 

“I - why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered, running his hand over his jaw in grievance. His eyes burned holes into me, the intense glare making me feel small under his scrutiny. 

I couldn’t answer

“God Y/N - I don’t even - why didn’t you even tell me?” 

“I - uh - I don’t” I stuttered, unable to muster the confidence or cognitive ability to speak; it was like my brain had turned into mush. 

“Please talk to me” He pleaded, taking a hesitant step closer to me. 

I stumbled back in a haste like he was some sort of repellent. I felt a constant push and pull in my gut, messing with my innate instincts. 

“Spencer don’t-” I warned, seeing how he had taken a few determined strides towards me. 

“Spence...please don't - p- please” I whimpered, feeling a wet substance slide down the apple of my cheeks. I tasted the crimson blood mix with the salty residue on my lips, unaware of how hard I bit down on the skin. 

Pained tears continued to fall incessantly from my eyes, matching the way the rain ran down my window panes previously. I saw Spencer’s figure slump down in defeat, the helplessness in my words permeating his eardrums. 

“Y/N just - please let me fix - Y/N just please let me fix us” He solicited, looking to me for permission to advance. 

“Spencer there’s no need for fixing anythi-” 

“Yes there is Y/N-” 

“No there isn’t Spencer!” I persisted, convincing myself that I had everything under control. I shut my eyes in frustration, shaking my head in denial while I reminded myself of all the malicious emotions I refused to feel. 

“Y/N please just list-” 

“No Spencer. I know what to do and I know how to deal with-” 

“No Y/N! No you don’t - god you’re so stubborn sometimes -” He imprudently blurted out, pinching at the bridge of his nose to collect his composure. “Y/N - please just…” He sighed, looking deep into my eyes from a distance. “Please just let me in” He begged, a few tears slipping from the corners of his somber irises. His face wore an anguished and desperate expression, an expression that had the ability to end a war. 

My cold exterior shattered instantaneously from the sight of Spencer, feeling my heart being tugged into multiple directions until all that was left was a pained human muscle. As much as I wanted to convince myself of an ardent persona, I knew that Spencer was the only person that could invoke such a visceral reaction from me. Whether I accepted the feeling or not, I knew that Spencer’s effect on me was unmatched to any delusions I made myself to believe. 

My lips trembled uncontrollably as a soft sob rolled off my tongue. I looked to Spencer for aid, feeling my entire facade crash and burn. My knees buckled and weakened from reality coming in all at once. When the first cry fell from my mouth, more followed soon after. 

I became a drenched mess that sat in the middle of the living room. I felt deceived by myself, developing a sense of self resentment as my mindset came into actualization. I grieved for the fragment of myself that I secluded and killed off because of my inability to process my agony, longing for that piece of me back. 

Spencer came to my rescue, engulfing me in his arms and encroaching me with his touch. I leaned into his chest, desperately clutching onto the dress shirt he wore. My tears stained his blazer, leaving puddles along the fabric, but I couldn’t care less. 

I breathed in the sedative scent, feeling it flush through my nostrils, reminding me of home. I held onto his arms tightly, afraid that he would disappear the moment I let go of him. 

Spencer tried to reach down to grab a hold of my cheek, but I nudged his fingers away, climbing into his lap as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. 

He cooed into my hair, stroking my back while he whispered his endearments in my ear. “You’re okay Y/N - we’re going to be okay” He breathed, letting out a staggered exhale as he enunciated his words. 

Light rushed into my chest at that moment, letting it conquer and cut through the caution tape I had wired around my feelings. Shutting my eyes, I relaxed into his love, letting it infiltrate and replace my fears. 

I didn’t doubt that it was going to take time to heal and repair, but at least it was beginning. 

“I love you so so much Y/N - more than you can ever conceive” He declared, pressing a soft kiss on my temple. “And nobody will ever tell me otherwise” 

I knew from that moment that I didn’t have to walk on a tightrope no longer because I knew it was my name that Spencer would be calling out.

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​ @linthebinbag​ @goldentournesol​ @andiebeaword​ @moon-light-jukebox​ @pizzarollsfordayz​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @cielo1984​ @spncersreid​ @101donuts​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @haylaansmi​ @parkeroffline​

[animatedarchives]

CHEMISTRY

— 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

author’s note: hi guys! this is based off of a conversation i had with @velvetfireworks​ about dozing off in class hehe ^^ it’s pretty cringey and cheesy but i thought it was cute :> enjoy!~

genre: fluff

warning: none, just school being sucky and some nerdy chemistry puns bc i love science

word count: 1.7k words

“Each carbon atom is sp3 hybridised and covalently bonded to four other carbon atoms to form a tetrahedral structure, making it insoluble in water and...”

I’m so tired.

The lecturer droned on and on in his awfully monotonous voice, his words going right over your head. You rubbed your face exasperatedly and sat up straight in your chair, trying your best to stay awake.

Maybe you should have gotten more rest last night. But how could you? Especially given all the assignments that were due this week. You groaned. Either way, you just wanted this class to be over.

Your eyes flicked to the clock mounted on the wall at the front of the hall, watching painfully as it ticked at an agonisingly slow pace.

Just… half an hour more…

You shook your head to will the sleepiness away, tightening the grip on your pen as you attempted to listen to the lecture once more. But the exhaustion from your allnighter last night was too much, and it fizzled out any determination you had to stay awake. Your body seemed to act against the pleas of your mind, and your eyelids slowly began to droop.

No! Need to... listen… to...

Your eyes eventually drifted shut and you felt instant relief wash over you. As much as you wanted to stay awake, you had no more energy to pry your eyelids apart.

Okay… Maybe just… five minutes…

You leaned back in your chair and gave in to your exhaustion, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep.

A few minutes passed and finally, you began to stir, your brain slowly starting back up again after your short nap.

Mmm, my pillow… So soft… Maybe I can sleep for a while longer— Wait.

Your eyes snapped open.

I don’t have a pillow.

You rubbed your face sleepily and assessed your situation, your eyes widening in horror as you realised you had ended up falling asleep on the shoulder of the person next to you.

“Oh my- I am so sorry!” you jerked away from them, the top of your head colliding with their chin.

“Ow-”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY, I’M SO SORRY!” you apologised profusely.

In your frenzy, you knocked your pencil case off your table, sending your stationery flying. You cursed under your breath and fumbled around, trying to get your things — and yourself — together. The stranger bent down and helped to pick up some of your pens, and although you were grateful, it deepened the guilt you felt in the pit of your stomach for causing them so much inconvenience.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated again, turning to face him.

He chuckled. “For a smart girl, you sure have some limited vocabulary,” he said, approaching you and handing you back your pens. You scoffed at the backhanded compliment but kept your smile nonetheless.

“Thank you… uh…” you trailed off, not knowing how to address him.

“The name’s Kuroo Tetsuro.”

“Mine is L/N Y/N!” you smiled politely. “Thank you, Kuroo.”

You were now very much awake and able to take in his appearance, an opportunity you missed during the earlier commotion. He wasn’t dressed in anything too outlandish; it was rather simple honestly — a white tee, a black jacket, some black joggers with a red stripe going down the side, and matching red shoes to accentuate the pop of colour. His jet black hair was spiked up as well, but strangely, not all of it. For some reason, he allowed his bangs to fall across the right side of his face instead of spiking it up like the rest. It was unusual, but strangely... rather charming.

“It’s not very polite to stare, you know.”

You blushed at his comment and whipped your head to look at anything else but him.

“I- I wasn’t staring!” you denied, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Sure you weren’t,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. Who was this guy? You’d barely even met him, yet you felt so comfortable around him. It was like you were naturally drawn to him. Attracted, even. You shook your head and cleared your throat, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.

“So uh, how much did I miss?” you asked.

“We just finished up the rest of this chapter on chemical bonding,” he replied. You groaned, dreading how much you’d have to study tonight in order to catch up on what you missed during the lecture. There was no way this could get worse.

And of course, just as you thought that, a dark splotch on Kuroo’s jacket caught your eye and you mentally slapped yourself as your eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is…” you said as you buried your face in your hands.

Confused, Kuroo followed your line of sight until it landed on a wet spot on his jacket, just below the curve of his shoulder — the very one you were sleeping on. He made a face and you had never felt more embarrassed in your entire life.

“Oh my gosh, please let me make it up to you! I’ll buy you lunch!” you sputtered out. You had to repay him somehow, not just because you’d used him as a pillow during Chemistry class but because there was now a huge spot of your drool on his clothes to show for it.

He chuckled at your flusteredness. “Lunch sounds great.”

He suggested going to his favourite food place, claiming it had the best grilled salted mackerel pike in the world. You agreed and followed him — it was only fair he chose where to eat after everything you’d put him through. As you neared the stall, you caught a whiff of the delicious grilled fish, causing your mouth to water and you licked your lips excitedly. The waitress greeted you at the entrance and motioned you to follow her inside as she led you to your seats.

“A table for two for the lovely couple,” she gestured towards the table. “Enjoy your date!” she smiled.

Your cheeks started to heat up and you shook your head vigorously at the misunderstanding. “N-no! This isn’t-” you tried to correct her but your protests fell on deaf ears as she was already walking away.

“Wow, do you not want to go on a date? You wound me,” he placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“NO NO NO IT’S JUST-”

“Oh, so you do want to go on a date with me?”

“WHA- NO- I MEAN-”

“I’m teasing, kid,” he laughed and ruffled your hair. “Sit down.”

You let out a sigh as you both took your seats. You were a complete mess today. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed to find it pretty amusing.

You peered over your menu to look at the boy sitting across you. It was hard to believe you’d only met a while ago considering you were now having lunch at his favourite food place, talking like you were old friends. And you couldn’t help but feel something warm starting to bubble within your chest.

“Staring again?” he asked without even needing to look at you. You quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“NO!” you retorted and lifted the menu up to cover your red face.

The two of you placed your orders and the rest of lunch went without a hitch. You were surprised with how easily conversation came with Kuroo and how naturally you guys got along together.

“So, grilled salted mackerel pike huh?” you asked.

“Yeah, this place is famous for it. It’s my favourite food,” he replied in between mouthfuls. “Docosahexaenoic acid is good for the brain, you know.”

“Wow, didn’t know you were such a nerd.”

“Better than someone who sleeps in class and drools on people.”

“HEY!”

Everything was just so easy with him, and your mind kept drifting back to the waitress’s words. Was this really a date? And more importantly, did you want it to be a date? You’d only just gotten to know him a few hours ago but the chemistry between you was undeniable. The warm feeling in your chest returned and honestly, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hold on to it a little longer. But lunch was coming to an end and you knew you’d have to let go.

“That was a great meal,” Kuroo said, satisfaction written all over his face. Thanks for the ‘date’ kid,” Kuroo chuckled at the term the waitress used. Your heart skipped a beat and you willed yourself not to blush again or give anything away.

“You’re welcome, old man,” you smiled innocently at the term you used. He’d kept calling you ‘kid’ so it was only fair that you returned the favour. You’d never admit it but you secretly liked it that he gave you a nickname. He smiled at you and shook his head at your silly antics.

Both of you stood outside the shop, not really knowing what else to say. You knew it was time to part ways since you’d already given him what you owed, but neither of you wanted to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess I’d better get back home… I’ve got to catch up on what I missed out during the lecture anyway,” you laughed nervously, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, I guess this was a good bonding session, huh,” he grinned lopsidedly, but you could tell it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Even so, you laughed at his dorkiness. You were going to miss it.

“Well, I’ll get going then,” you said, turning to leave. “Oh and uh, sorry about your jacket,” you smiled sheepishly.

Kuroo perked up in sudden realisation. “Oh wait! Speaking of…” he closed the distance between you, rummaging through his bag and fishing out the black jacket he’d previously taken off. “Here,” he said, shoving it into your arms.

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? A keepsake?” you snickered.

“Pfft, you wish,” he smirked. “It has your saliva on it. You wash it,” he said.

You cringed at the truth in his words and folded it over your arms. “Alright, I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

He grinned devilishly with a mischievous glint in his eye, and suddenly you understood his true intentions. You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

“Good. Now I’ve got an excuse to see you again tomorrow.”

Damn this clever nerd.

He’s good.

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[kkaebsongtypo]

01 | m.l | next

why wont you love me // hrj [02]

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, slight angst

wanings/notes: alcohol consumption (all parties are of legal age, drink responsibly!), mentions/symptoms of anxiety, mentions/signs of abandonment issues, jealousy, inspired by the song Why Won't You Love Me by 5sos

(warnings/notes are subject to change and updates if needed.)

word count: 2.1k

Renjun and y/n are an inseparable pair; they know each other like the back of their own hands. For the most part. Renjun keeps his true feelings hidden; y/n refuses to acknowledge their own. Both hold the fear of losing each other. But will one night out and a little too much to drink change everything?

a/n: hello part two is f i n a l l y here- sorry for the super long wait ;-; lmk if you want to be in a taglist ^-^

A week without Renjun and the boys proved to be a lot more difficult than you expected. On any other day, a normal day, you would have Renjun or Jisung on video call to keep you company whilst doing your work, cleaning the house, or just any other task. On any other day, you’d have a few of the boys lounging around your apartment, studying, doing project work, playing video games, spending their time in the comfort of your tidy home if they needed to get away from their own. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like you lived alone.

Needless to say, with your main group of friends away on their trip, you were bored. With the boys doing their own trip activities, it was hard to get a normal, lengthy video call in. Procrastination was one of your biggest enemies in the deafening silence of your empty apartment. Without the company of your friends occupying your phone, and your current lack of self control, you were sprawled out on your bed scrolling through Instagram, your essay long forgotten.

You sat up abruptly when you opened Renjun’s story and were greeted with a photo of him and a shorter girl wrapped in his arms. Your chest tightened and at their bright smiles. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the photo, the strange sensation in your chest growing. After a few seconds, you decided to close the app, the feeling (which, you concluded to be anxiety) building inside of you became overwhelming very quickly. You placed your phone face down on your bed and slowly laid back against the covers. You stared blankly at your ceiling and drummed your fingers on your bedsheets and chest.

A ding sounded from your phone and your hand flew to grab it. You hesitated to look at the screen though, unsure if you were hoping it was from Renjun or not. Ten seconds passed, and after a deep breath, you look at the message. A sigh fell from your lips when you read the contact name. It was from Jisung. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Renjun as the anxiety in your chest continued to swirl.

bby chick <3: Are you busy rn bby chick <3: Can u vc bby chick <3: I miss you :(

You felt a pang of guilt for feeling slightly disappointed as you read the younger boys messages. You truly did miss him as well. The situation prior to his messages simply threw you off and into a frenzy of other feelings. Your fingers typed a response quickly.

: I miss you too :( : and no I am not busy, call me <3

It took no longer than 5 seconds for a video call from Jisung to pop up. After a deep breath to push down the previous discomfort within you, you put on a small smile and answered the call. The sight of Jisung’s face lighting up instantly when you appeared on his screen made your smile become more real, the photo of Renjun and that girl being pushed aside for the time being.

“Hii y/n!!” Jisungs voice was lively and excited. The setting sun shone a warm glow on him and the hotel wall. He waved to you, and you waved back.

“Hey Sunggie, how are you doing?” You asked. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I’m good, the guys and I miss you tons though! How are you?” Your chest tightened when he returned the question. It always broke your facade at times like this.

“I’m- I’m uh… yeah, I’m good.” Your feeble attempt at seeming okay was unconvincing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks with each blink. The uncomfortable feeling in your chest returned and your breathing quickened. Though your vision was blurred, you noticed Jisung’s expression fall into one of shock and panic.

“Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He stuttered, reaching towards the camera as if trying to reach directly to you. You wiped your cheeks frantically with your sleeves and sniffled, a pathetic laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong, Ji, don’t worry-” Jisung cut you off gently. Tears continued to fall from your eyes involuntarily.

“Y/n… please don’t lie to me… you’re clearly not fine…” Your chest tightened more at the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like seeing you upset, it made him sad seeing his friend in distress. You tried to dry your tears again, but it was no use. With a quiet sigh of frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. There was no use in trying to lie again, your feelings were impossible to hide at this point.

“I- ugh. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really okay- I’m sorry.” You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at your apology.

“No!! Don’t be sorry!” He exclaimed. You glanced up at him and slouched further into yourself. Silence filled both of your rooms. You didn’t know what to say. You were embarrassed; your fear of being abandoned was consuming every bit of you with each passing second the longer you stayed in your head. Abandonment issues weren’t something you’ve ever talked about with any of your friends, there was never a reason to. Not until you saw that photo of Renjun.

The silence stayed for what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your own thoughts on a loop. No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that Renjun would never just drop you out of the blue, the anxiety just pushed back. Part of you says “he wouldn’t.” but the other part of you fights back with “but he could.” It was a never ending loop; spiraling into yourself with no end in sight. Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts with a question that caused your cheeks to burn with anxiety.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You chewed on your bottom lip and tried to sort your thoughts before speaking. Tears began forming in the corners of your eyes again and they fell down your still damp cheeks when you blinked.

“It’s- ahh. It’s just- that photo of Renjun and that girl. It’s like, stupid but I think it was just anxiety saying like ‘oh Renjun found someone new he doesn’t love me anymore’ kind of-” The string of words fell from you lips quickly and in a mess, your insecurities growing and getting the best of you. Your voice cracked and you sniffled before taking a shaky breath and rubbing your eyes, giving Jisung the opportunity to speak. He was hesitant at first, his voice wavering slightly; he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Hey- um- breathe for a second. Can you, uhm, can you show me the photo?” You nodded and picked up your phone to open Instagram. A feeling of dread grew in your chest and stomach as your finger hovered over Renjun’s story. With a deep sigh, you opened the story, the photo popping up on your screen. You stared at Renjun’s smile for a second before tapping on the small paper airplane icon and sending it to Jisung. You waited quietly as Jisung opened Instagram to see the image. You laid on your back and positioned your phone next to you so the boy could still see you when he returned to the call.

While you were swimming in your own variety of conclusions, Jisung stared at the photo you had just sent, unsure of his next words. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, knowing that he could potentially make you feel even worse in one way or another.

“Y/n- oh my goodness. Okay- that’s not- that’s like Renjun’s second cousin. We just met her today!” You stared at your ceiling as Jisung returned to the video call.

“I… are you serious? Oh my gosh.��� You groaned, tears beginning to fall faster again. Jisung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, still hating to see you so upset.

“Yeah! Please don’t cry.” Jisung tried to comfort you as best as he could through a tiny screen. You sniffled and whipped the tears from your face, only for more to fall. He sighed softly, feeling slightly helpless.

“Look, even if that wasn’t his relative, I can assure you that all of us love you and we would never just up and leave you for anyone else. Renjun especially. y/n he…” He paused for a second, trying to pick his words cautiously to avoid exposing any secrets that weren’t his.

“You’re his best friend. He, of all people, would never, ever do that to you.” Your tears began to slow as you listened to Jisung, taking in everything he said. The external rationalization was reassuring, but the ache from the idea of losing Renjun continued to loom deep in your chest.

“I know that your anxiety clouds your judgement sometimes but if I can do anything to help at any time, please let me know.” He paused for a second, quickly realizing that you were keeping quiet.

“But if you can’t talk to me for whatever reason, try to remember what I just said.” You sighed softly. Jisung was really trying, and even though your thoughts continued to run wild, you were grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you, Ji. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for all that; it was just a huge scare about my best friend leaving me over what turned out to be nothing.” You rolled your eyes at yourself. You jumped to conclusions and got upset over a misunderstanding; you felt foolish. Jisung perked up and was quick to validate your feelings.

“Oh! No, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry for feeling.” He frowned at you and played with his fingers. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap. Silence lingered for a couple seconds before Jisung spoke up again.

“Um, okay. I’m sorry of this is a dumb question, but like- are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction..?” The question made you tilt your head and bring your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

“Uh? Yes? What do you mean?” Jisung turned away and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah like, I dunno. The use of best friend- I mean like, are you sure you aren’t like, jealous?” Jisung turned his head down slightly, looking up at you with a careful gaze, nibbling the inside of his lip. Your eyes widened and you blinked a few times. Your lips parted to speak and you raised your eyebrows, but the words got caught in your throat. Why is this so hard to answer? You furrowed your brows for a second, regaining your composure enough to form some sort of coherent sentence.

“Oh- well I mean I guess maybe?? But no. What?? He’s my best friend and he’ll always be my best friend.” You tripped over your words as they came out in a mess. Your heart sped up and your cheeks warmed slightly. What is happening?? Jisung furrowed his eyebrows and tugged at his fingers as words began falling from his lips.

“Right- I’m sorry-” He started to panic, but you cut him off softly before he could ramble an apology.

“It’s fine Jisung, don’t worry about it.” You sent him a small, half smile. He chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Without letting the guilt-filled silence linger, you sighed and clapped your hands together.

“Enough about this stuff. Tell me more about the trip, what have you been up to?” You smiled softly. Jisung looked at you hesitantly and you nodded; an attempt at reassuring him. He took a second and raised his eyebrows before breaking into a smile.

“Well, the day after we arrived we just sort of slept in, but in the afternoon we went into the city...” You smiled as enthusiasm filled his eyes again, but his voice became mere background noise as you got lost in your thoughts once more. Jisung’s previous question coming back and lingering in your mind; “are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction?”

Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more.

You did your best to shake it from consuming you, wanting to focus on Jisung instead. But the tiniest voice in the back of your mind repeated in a loop, Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more. Right?

Taglist: @lolibaaae @currentlyraisinghell

a/n: let me know if you want to be part of a tag list ^-^

disclaimer: updates will be stagnant. thank you for understanding :)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 272: (Directed by Michael Bay)

Previously on BnHA: The My Child Soldiers Academia arc finally started to live up to its name as Tokoyami became the first (but I assure you not the last) victim of traumatic mental scarring courtesy of Horikoshi’s sick games! So he and Dark Shadow showed up to stop Dabi from murdering Hawks and were all “please don’t kill our mentor.” Dabi was all “AH BUT YOUR MENTOR KILLED SOMEONE ELSE, AND ISN’T THAT JUST LIKE THE HEROES THOUGH, THEIR HANDS ARE SO STAINED WITH BLOOD” and then he tried to set both of them on fire several times in succession. Hawks was all “Tokoyami just run away while he’s in the middle of his five-hour sermon” and so they tried but Dabi followed them! But then Geten was all “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE... CHILL” and fucking froze everything for no discernible reason, and Tokoyami fled the building with an unconscious Hawks in tow as the battle raged on. The chapter then ended with Gigantomachia being all “I smell my master!” and standing up, hahaha oh fuck.

Today on BnHA: Well you guys are not going to believe this, but it turns out that Tomura waking up is actually a very bad thing. A “worst case scenario” if you will! Because, get this, he has a quirk that can destroy anything, which spreads from whatever he touches to fucking everything and everywhere else. Gosh, if only we’d known about this since like 35 chapters ago. If only we’d had a spy among the villains who could have warned us, and three entire months to plan our attack, and literally every single hero in Japan on call to help us when the time came. Anyway so you’re really going to be shocked by this I’m telling you, but it turns out that when a crazy powerful person who wants to destroy everything finally wakes up, he immediately starts destroying everything with his crazy power. So X-Less dies and Crust dies and everyone else runs, and meanwhile the kids, who are on the outskirts of the city finishing up the evacuation, stand there in shock as the plot rampages toward them ready to swallow them whole. The chapter ends with Deku powering up to FORTY-FIVE PERCENT YEAHHHHH, and oh shit. Finally we’re doing this.

I am not even remotely done with all the shit I’m supposed to be finishing up, but fuck it, I need a break and reading the new chapter is by far the funnest thing on my current to-do list, so!

OH SNAPS MY BOY HAS FINALLY OPENED HIS EYES

IT ONLY TOOK HIM... OKAY LOOK I’M NOT GOING TO GO BACK AND COUNT ALL OF THE CHAPTERS, BUT LET’S SAY... FIFTEEN. ...HUNDRED. CHAPTERS TO FINALLY SNAP TO IT AND COME JOIN THE PARTY. BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT! PROBABLY. AHH LET’S JUST READ ON

-- ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohm --

[puts on glasses and unfolds map while poring through a mess of scribbles on post-it notes] -- hold up, if my calculations are correct, I’m pretty sure “somewhere a bit further from the hospital” is, in fact, where a certain THREE TROUBLE-PRONE DISASTERS ARE CURRENTLY HOLED UP. AHHH

can it really be true. are we finally rejoining our protagonist and his buddy cop friends after 97 years. how will everyone react to Deku reacting to Tomura waking up ahhhh

so Burnin’ is yelling at the civilians to let them know if they have any family or friends who need assistance evacuating

god I hate the fact that this is a fucking understatement

they’re not taking any chances after Kamino and Fukuoka huh. fool them once, shame on you. fool them twice, oh shit. but there will not be a third time! no one fucking destroys three cities in the span of six months on their watch, no sirree

(ETA: ...)

lol the kids are trying to get the elderly citizens on a bus to evacuate, but a lady is trying to give them candy and Kacchan and Ochako are of two different minds on whether or not to accept

Kacchan is absolutely right about Ochako’s motivations, but in her defense, who the fuck turns down free chocolate

IIDA!!

FUCKING CHRIST JAPAN IT’S 200 YEARS IN THE FUTURE AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T SWITCHED TO DIGITAL RECORD-KEEPING? WHY IS THIS THE MOST REALISTIC THING IN THE ENTIRE MANGA TO DATE. MY GOOD SIR, IIDA IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH, ALL RECORDS AND BUILDINGS ABSOLUTELY CAN AND WILL BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED IN THE CARNAGE TO COME. I’M SORRY TO BE THE ONE TO INFORM YOU OF THIS, BUT DAMN IT SOMEONE HAS TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

(ETA: I sure hope these poor bastards had good insurance.)

also. this man here who looks like Beaker from the Muppets, who presumably has the power of Doing Anything Those Wacky Flailing Inflatable Tube Men That You See Outside Of Car Dealerships Can Do. ...yes. that’s it. that’s an intentionally incomplete sentence with a subject but no predicate. I just feel like we should all sit and stare at him for a good thirty more seconds before continuing on with our lives

OH MY GOD

THEY’RE EVACUATING THE PETS TOO AHHHH. EXCUSE ME CERTAIN SOMEONES WHO THINK ALL HEROES ARE “DIRTY.” I SEE YOUR ARGUMENTS AND RAISE YOU THIS ONE SINGLE PANEL. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT. NOW WHAT DABI. AT A LOSS FOR WORDS I SEE. YOU JUST SIT AND PONDER THAT FOR A WHILE

is... this... a space shuttle man

is this literally just a man with a Boeing for a head. FUCKING QUIRKS THOUGH!!!!! ~*~wild~*~

OH MY GOD AND WE’RE BACK

time for some HORCRUX SHENANIGANS!! IS YOUR LIGHTNING BOLT SCAR BURNING DEKU. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED IS BACK AHHHH

so now he’s slightly hunching forward with his hands pressed together and Todoroki is immediately sensing that something is wrong ahhhhh

(ETA from like 5 days later: I had that as “Tokoyami” instead of “Todoroki” for the better part of a solid week you guys. SHOUTO YOU WERE GONE FOR SO LONG I FORGOT YOUR FUCKING NAME whoop.)

here come dat angst. here comes Horikoshi’s hand beckoning the trio closer and welcoming them to the pain parade ahhh. from now on that’s how I’m ending all my sentences btw. it just seems right. ahhh

OH MY LORD OH MY

ladies and gentlemen, YOU WERE SAYING DEKU DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LATELY? HE’S NOT INTERESTING ENOUGH AS A PROTAGONIST, IS HE? well maybe that’s because Horikoshi has been saving this one juiciest of plot nuggets for a rainy day precisely like this! BRING ON THAT CHOSEN ONE ANGST AHHHHH

anyway so yes it is indeed OFA speaking to him in the form of Lil Bro a.k.a. the first user

lol I’m trying to think of commentary but it’s difficult seeing as I’M ALREADY SCROLLING DOWN TO IMPATIENTLY READ THE NEXT PAGE

lmao the fuck

okay Princess Zelda. can you get any more flowery with those descriptions though. A TRANSCENDENT BEING. A SUPERLATIVE ENTITY. A SUBLIME, PREEMINENT ORGANISM. FREED FROM ITS SHACKLES. UNFETTERED BY ALL EARTHLY LIMITATIONS

OH MY GOD

it absolutely boggles my mind that this guy is somehow still alive. ??! how many chapters and panels has it been now. he’s like the goat in the t-rex pen in fucking Jurassic Park. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET EATEN ALREADY

...

do you... want a blanket. ...?

(ETA: do you ever just. wake up and you’re like “ah shit it’s cold”, and then you destroy an entire city. mm.)

do you all suppose X-Less is fully aware that he’s about to die though? he hasn’t even moved. I imagine that sitting next to Tomura actually is much like sitting next to a giant t-rex. like he has to know there is no getting out of this alive. poor guy

damn Mic isn’t even looking back he’s just running back into the main room where all the rest of them are

wow this fight is still going on

I don’t know why, I just expected it to all magically be over all of a sudden now that we have bigger things to worry about. do you guys remember when we were all worried about the High End Noumus being the biggest threat. hahahahaha

(ETA: moment of silence for ALL OF THE FUCKING HIGH ENDS lmao. that did not go how I expected that plotline to go AT ALL, but at least we got the best fucking battle in the entire manga out of it.)

jesus CHRIST ENOUGH WITH THIS

WE GET IT TOMURA IS DANGEROUS AND SCARY AND EVIL AND AWAKE!!! JUST PLEASE GET TO IT ALREADY GOD I’M BEGGING YOU

FINALLY

goddammit. my reaction to this should have been much more “!!!” and “OH SHIT”, but he dragged it out so much that my initial reaction was one more of relief than horror. maybe it’s because of the way I read the chapters, constantly pausing to do commentary as I go along, but whenever a chapter has a ton of panels of people just staring into the distance awash with dread, it really stands out to me lol. there’s only so much I can write about that kind of thing. ah well at least we’re finally getting to the action

I genuinely can’t tell if Ujiko is frightened that he’s about to be disintegrated by Tomura’s quirk, or excited that Tomura is awake

maybe both lol. well don’t worry you’re not gonna die that easily, much as you would not catch me complaining if you did

thanks Gran

lol where was all this speed throughout the rest of this arc though. “we’re only competent when the plot necessitates it” huh. is that right

oh shit it’s destroying the rest of the lab

those are all of Ujiko’s collected quirks, right? someone please tell me if this is a good or a bad thing. on the one hand if they’re all destroyed it means Tomura can’t get them and Ujiko can’t make any more Noumus. but on the other hand this means they won’t ever be able to give them back to the original users (if any of them are even still alive). and also that’s a lot of evidence that’s being wiped out as well

oh shit they didn’t know about this?!

even after Deika City, you didn’t put two and two together?? even with all of Hawk’s intel?? what the hell did you think happened there?

well this explains why everyone was so la-dee-da-no-rush about capturing him though. well that’s on you guys. next time maybe don’t waste 20 minutes uselessly battling redshirt Noumus while Mirko has to do everything herself

anyway so I feel like people other than X-Less are almost certainly going to die here, and fuck. I’m not ready for any of this

AHH THE KIDS

BIT SLOW ON THE UPTAKE THERE KACCHAN LOL. FOR A MOMENT YOU HAD ME WORRIED THERE WAS SOMEHOW A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THREAT APPROACHING FROM THE OTHER SIDE, BEFORE YOU TURNED AROUND TO LOOK WHERE THE OTHERS WERE LOOKING

ALSO JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT SHOUTO’S DAD IS IN THAT HOSPITAL, ALONG WITH THEIR TEACHER! HERE. COME. DAT. ANGST

LOOK AT THIS CONSPICUOUSLY INTACT BUILDING AS IT STANDS THERE ALL OMINOUSLY WITH THE NEARBY BIRDS AND CRITTERS FRANTICALLY FLYING AWAY

I want to see it crumble so bad. now this is the kind of foreboding cinematic disaster movie bullshit I can get into

FFFF WHY IS THIS PANEL SO HARD TO SEE

THERE’S TOO MUCH CHAOS AND TOO MANY PEOPLE LOST AMIDST ALL THESE SHATTERING AND FALLING TUBES, BUT I NEED TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE IS SAFE AHHH

...okay so I see Ryuukyuu in the top right, and I think that’s RockLockRock on her back. Thirteen is clearly there in the bottom center, but I don’t know who that is next to them. and then of course Gran and Mic on the left. and a bunch of others spread out in various other places, but... where the hell is Aizawa??

OH THANK GOD

FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI, I KNOW FULL WELL YOU’RE NOT JUST GOING TO KILL OFF THE WORLD’S PREEMINENT DAD STRAIGHT UP OUT OF THE BLUE HERE, AND YET I STILL FELT ANXIETY AT THIS LAST PANEL. HOW DID YOU EVEN

BITCH YOU BETTER LET THE FUCK GO BEFORE I --

!!!

oh my god I gasped in real life. stop making me fear for the lives of main characters!!

he. he --. crust. he. ...

I literally stopped reading and had to stop and cover my mouth with both of my hands I’m

silence. no screaming. no flailing. no freaking out. just silence

shit. rest in peace you old sedimentary bastard. respect to you for saving the father of my children in your last fleeting moments. I still have not the slightest idea how you rose through the ranks to somehow become the sixth fucking highest rated hero (HERO BILLBOARD CHART, IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT. ARE YOU FEELING OKAY), but you sure did go out with style though

also this may be tacky of me to point out during such an emotionally charged moment, but one second Aizawa is wearing his goggles like normal, and the next they’re suddenly pushed up onto his forehead so we can see the anguish in his bloodshot eyes. there was no reason to do that other than angst and we all know it. so yes Shouta you dramatic bitch, I am calling you out. why Horikoshi felt he had to add to your many accumulated traumas is beyond me. you don’t deserve this and I am so, so sorry

OH GOOD I WAS JUST ABOUT TO ASK WHERE THE FUCK ENDEAVOR WAS

seeing as we just went over this with Gran, I will take the high road here and won’t ask why you’re only this fast now and couldn’t have been this useful this ages ago back before Tomura woke up. oh wait does sarcastically saying I won’t bring it up count as bringing it up. well whatever. middle road, then

sob I’m getting flashbacks to the end of Return of the Jedi when they’re all frantically flying out of the Death Star as it explodes

friendly reminder that Ryuukyuu, clearly the fastest one here despite carrying like 20 people, was number 10 in the rankings for some unknown reason. again, r.i.p. Crust you well-meaning geriatric soul

also just a stray thought, I hope it’s clear now why it was so important to give Deku those additional quirks. at a minimum he needs Blackwhip and Float just so he doesn’t instantly die the moment he’s in Tomura’s general vicinity. sob I’ve joked so much about flying quirks and here they are becoming fucking prerequisites now

anyway so Ujiko is mourning the loss of his lab, which again, good riddance mostly. but r.i.p. that evidence though

(ETA: nah the “total loss” part is referring to how the heroes fucked up so soundly and thoroughly. anyway no one would blame Mic if he accidentally dropped Ujiko in the midst of all this chaos, I’m just saying. I guess they need any intel he could still provide now more than ever though.)

OH MY GOD!!

LAUNDRY HERO WASH?! THIS SUDSY BOI CAN ACTUALLY KICK ASS WHAAAAT

oh my god oh my god it’s still spreading??!

fuck fuck fuck at this rate it’ll reach the kids

(ETA: that happened really fast actually.)

-- oh FUCK NO you had better NOT FUCKING TOUCH FUCKING PIXIE BOB, I WILL MAIL MYSELF TO JAPAN PANDEMIC OR NO PANDEMIC. DO YOU NOT SEE THE SIGN THAT SAYS “OFF-LIMITS.” RESPECT THE SIGN

SOB SHE’S SO BADASS BUT IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S STILL DISINTEGRATING FUCCCCCK. FUCK MY LIFE, FUCK EVERYTHING

AHHHHH

I can’t tell if her earthbending was able to stop it or not?? god help us all if it didn’t, I’m not even sure what else could stop it at this point

SHUT UP UJIKO!!

they really did. only to fuck it up completely at the finish line. well, the man most singularly responsible for it is dead now, again r.i.p. Crust you useless old legend

lmao despite myself

“by a miracle, or maybe through sheer will” even he acknowledges that Tomura waking up was basically complete bullshit. yes blah blah yadda yadda got zapped by some exposed wires explanation science. because we all know that getting electrocuted will fix you right up when your heart has stopped and you have completely flatlined. you can definitely trust Horikoshi on this and there’s absolutely no need to google how defibrillators actually work

also is he somehow wearing a cape now. again by a miracle or maybe through sheer will

YESSSSSSS

(ETA: one has to wonder what Ujiko’s plan was, assuming this scheme had actually played out. were they just banking on Tomura not waking up cranky and disoriented and wanting to test out his power. his quirk doesn’t exactly distinguish friend from foe here I’m just saying.)

the part of me that goes all “ooh ahh” when all the buildings explode in Independence Day is singing inside. but never fear, the rest of me is appropriately horrified though. what was that Burnin’ was saying about the city becoming a large-scale battle zone? sob

also this page sure serves as a nice refresher for exactly why Tomura Waking Up Was Bad, which was inexplicably a topic of some debate in recent weeks. yes in spite of everything the villains are still the bad guys who’d have thought. almost as if the purpose of humanizing a character is to show that they’re human, not that they’re right

WHAT’S THIS NOW???

WELL I’LL BE. IT’S BEEN AN EVENTFUL THREE MONTHS, APPARENTLY!??

HOOAHHHHHHHH

IT’S A BIRD IT’S A PLANE IT’S A BADASS OH SHIIIIITTTTTT

finally finally finally!!!!!!

THE SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN, REPEAT, THE SHIT HAS HIT THE PROVERBIAL FAN. THE PLOT IS FINALLY HAPPENING, REPEAT, THE PLOT IS FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENING AHHHHHH

and there is no one coming to save them this time. no one to arrive at the last second and say “it’s all right now because I am here.” they have to save themselves. they have to save everyone. the training wheels are finally coming off. the safety net has been removed. after 272 chapters, the story has finally reached a point where these kids, these children, who in spite of all they’ve been through have been protected and shielded from the worst of it up till now, will finally have to be the ones to save the day all on their own

and they are not ready. but also maybe they kind of are??! but they definitely are not. and oh god oh god oh god, FINALLY WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS. TIME TO FIX THE MESS THOSE SILLY GROWN-UPS MADE, CHILDREN. YOU GOT THIS

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong?- THE PREQUEL- Part 1 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

so basically,,,, i took my adhd meds for class this morning, and then suddenly got super inspired to write this, so i figured i couldnt waste the focus and wrote this whole ass thing in a few hours. this is the first part of a 3-part prequel series, which details the events leading up to the first part of iiw! just a whole lot more teen angst, drama, fuckboy michael, and more... there isn’t going to be any SMUT smut for obvious reasons, but in a future part there is going to be some dirty stuff ;) anyway i know this will prob flop but this is the first full length fic i’ve written in months and i had a lot of fun writing it, so ima post regardless ^__^

plot: things are turning upside for you now that the biggest fuckboy in school, michael langdon, is about to become your stepbrother. if you think shit is crazy now, wait til you find out that this is just the prequel 😏

warnings: underage drinking, talk of sexual shit, teen angst, sexual tension, taboo relationships 

wc: 4.2k 

i.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

You did, of course you did.

You’d seen him, engulfed in his loneliness, floating from day to listless day like some kind of cheesy Victorian spectre. Too many times you’d found him alone at night, one hand cradling a glass of sewer-brown liquor, the other thumbing through worn photo albums extracted from dust-ridden shelves in the living room. You hadn’t known your mother well- she’d died back when you were still in diapers, but what you did know was that she’d been a vibrant light in your father’s world that had been unjustly snuffed out in its prime. He was a good father to you, and you knew you made him happy despite the dull ache ever-present in his heart, but it was evident that deep down he craved a companionship you could never provide.

So of course you were glad when he met Miriam. Of course you were glad when you’d seen his beaming smile, sharing the news, with the giddiness of a teenage girl in love, that he’d found somebody. He was practically glowing, that night he’d gone out for their first date. You’d known it’d been special to him, because he’d shelled out a few hundred to treat them both to a fancy dinner; he’d even gotten her a bouquet of flowers on the drive there.

You hadn’t said anything when he’d gushed to you the next day about how he’d found the one, despite having known her for only a week; sure, he was rushing into things, but at least he was happy! And that was all you wanted- for him to be happy.

That was why you were especially crushed when you finally met Miriam’s teenage son, whom your father had briefly mentioned with a passing “he goes to your high school, maybe you know him”.

There were so many boys at your school that it was impossible to guess who your potential stepbrother might be. The prospect that you might know him didn’t bother you too much, though you did think it might be a little awkward upon first meeting, but really what did it matter? A little bit of teenage shyness was a small price to pay for your father’s newfound happiness.

That is, until you met him.

So really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want your dad to be happy.

That wasn’t the case at all.

You just really, really, wished he’d fallen in love with anyone other than the mother of Michael fucking Langdon.

ii.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” Miriam gushed over a glass of Chardonnay, which had already been defaced with aubergine lip prints around the golden rim. “Gosh, I just wish I had your hair. Mine was fried from years of coloring, so I just chopped it all off!”

You smiled sweetly, observing your father’s glimmering eyes as he hung onto every word that rolled off her tongue, menus still stacked neatly in the middle of the table as you awaited the fourth and final guest. The three of you had been there for fifteen minutes already, and still her son had not arrived.

I guess his study session is running late, she’d explained, after seeing your furrowed brows at her lack of accompaniment. It was the first time you were meeting your father’s new love interest and her son, and you were rapidly growing more and more anxious in anticipation of the big reveal.

Studying, you’d thought, racking your brain. So maybe he’s one of the nerdy teacher’s pet types? You could certainly live with that; there were a great deal of others you could think of who would be far worse to potentially become step-siblings with.

“Thanks, Ms… Mead, did you say it was?”

You weren’t sure you knew of any boys whose last name was Mead; he definitely had to be someone you hardly knew.

“Oh, honey, call me Miriam,” she said warmly, and you nodded, unsure of what to say next.

Miriam was certainly not what you’d imagined your father’s girlfriend to be like, not that you cared either way; she sported short, dark hair with vampy makeup, clad in all black with a tasteful leather jacket to match. She was also a bit older than you’d anticipated, with fine lines adorning her rounded face, but again, none of that mattered to you at all. She seemed perfectly sweet, and you had no complaints about her thus far.

“Okay, Miriam,” you said, feeling somewhat peculiar addressing an adult by their first name, “so, remind me, how’d you guys meet again?”

“Well, it’s a funny story, really,” Miriam chuckled, plucking a dinner roll from the woven basket across from her and dropping it onto her plate. Her dark eyes shifted from you to your father, poising an impeccably groomed raven brow. “Should you tell it, or should I?”

“Oh, you should, definitely,” your father said, sipping his wine.

“Okay, okay. Well, we were in the meat section at the grocery store when we both reached for the last steak on sale. So I looked at him, and I told him- oh my, this is embarrassing- (your dad’s name), you finish!”

Your father looked like he was about to bust out into laughter, and, suppressing a snort, he blurted, “she said she’d cut off my hands if I took it!”

Immediately after the words left his lips, the two fell into boisterous hysterics that ushered forward a few disapproving glances from the stuffy rich assholes at the next table over, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little yourself. Well… she definitely was a character, but as long as your father was being kept entertained…

“Hey mom,” came a sudden, inappropriately loud male voice from behind you, so out of place that you nearly jumped from your seat. “I was helping Dan with the world war three chapter in our textbook, he sucks at geography shit.”

The voice’s owner revealed himself as a tall, blond boy, who promptly slid into the empty chair beside you, chiseled face slightly obscured by the deep shadows resulting from the dimness of the restaurant’s ambient lighting.

This was, indeed, somebody that you knew, and you blinked twice to be sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

It took you a few seconds to register the direness of the situation at hand, but once the thought processed in your mind, you about descended into an out-of-body experience.

This couldn’t be.

No way.

No motherfucking way.

You’d never been all too much of a religious person, but in that moment, you found yourself silently begging whatever higher power was out there that this was all just some sick, cosmic prank.

The boy turned his head to give you a good, uncomfortably long look, stupidly perfect mouth twisting into an amused sideways grin, and then he spoke. “Ohh shit, (y/n)? (Y/n) (y/l/n)?”

He spoke your name like it was a punchline, tongue darting out to lick his teeth like a lizard about to gobble up some poor, helpless cricket as you sat there with your jaw unhinged. You were at a loss for words, or at least almost, managing to croak out a pathetic, puny, “Michael.”

“Oh, good! You guys know each other already!” Miriam exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to the complete and utter horror that had just about finished swallowing you whole.

Michael let out a snort, roughly translating to ‘uhh, yeah, not that well… I’d never be caught dead hanging around with someone like (y/n)’, and you grimaced. “Yeah, a little bit. You were in math class with me last year, right?”

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to regain your composure for fear of feeding into this complete asshole’s already massive ego. Yeah, in fact, you had been in math class with him last year, and, not-so-coincidentally, that very same class had turned out to be the one you dreaded the most.

Michael Langdon was the most insufferable, mind-numbing, self-obsessed asshole that you’d ever had the displeasure of knowing; he was easily the most popular boy in the grade, and it was clear he was fully aware of his own high school bullshit prestige. He was loud, cocky and obnoxious; the type of fuckboy- yes, you knew the word fuckboy was overplayed, but in this case there was no other way to describe him- who’d loudly brag about his sexual escapades in the middle of the hallway to his flock of adoring fuckboy minions. He was an I-don’t-do-relationships type, a U-up-text-at-3am type, a Yo-dude-did-you-see-Zoe-Benson’s-tits-today type, a bro-I’m-so-fucking-baked-right-now type. Just the sound of his voice from across a crowded hallway was enough to make you physically recoil. And the worst part?

Every-fucking-body loved him.

Your complaints about him during lunch would only result in your friends cooing dreamily, as though he were some kind of sympathetic creature that needed babying: But he’s so cute, they’d say, twirling locks of their hair and fiddling with their bracelets. I’m sure he’s not that bad.

But he was that bad, and if they took off their shit-stained, teenage hormone-clouded rose tinted glasses for only a second, they’d see exactly what you saw.

It wasn’t only the students, either. He was able to get away with everything and anything he pleased, whether it be sneaking sips of vodka in a water bottle between classes or ditching class to smoke a joint behind the bleachers. There’d even been rumors that he’d fucked some senior girl in the handicap stall during the autumn pep rally while the rest of the student body was packed like sardines in the sticky-hot gymnasium, subjected to incremental barks from the football coach to scream louder and louder.

How the hell was somebody as pleasant as Miriam the mother of such an incurable douchebag? And how, in all the unholy realms of hell, did your luck get so miserably bad that she ended up with your father?

It was all so fucking unfortunate that you almost wanted to laugh. And you probably would have, if not for the chance that you might puke all over your nice new sweater if you opened your mouth.

“You smell funny, hon,” said Miriam before you could reply. “Was Dan burning incense in his room?”

Oh, god. So she was one of those oblivious parents. You rolled your eyes; it made a lot of sense when you thought about it.

“Huh? Oh. Um, yeah. Incense,” Michael said, before suddenly extending his arm across the table to your father. “Oh shit, how rude of me. I’m Michael. Nice to meet you, man.”

Your father seemed unfazed my Michael’s distinct lack of manners as he accepted the boy’s hand and shook it, and you felt yet another knot twist up in the pit of your stomach as you realized that your father, too, had somehow been cast under Michael’s spell.

“Michael, we talked about this,” Miriam said under her breath, like she was scolding a child who didn’t know any better. “Keep the potty mouth to a minimal when we’re out in public, especially while we’re in such a nice restaurant.”

“Oh, sh…oot, sorry, mom,” Michael said with a faux-sheepish smile, his eyes flickering with amusement despite his supposed remorse. “And sorry to you too, sir. Bad habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike- can I call you Mike?” your father said as they released hands, moving his to rest atop Miriam’s on the cloth-sheathed table. “I remember what it was like being a boy your age.”

You scoffed, loud enough that the table fell silent for a moment, and quickly you disguised it with a cough. Your cheeks went hot as all eyes laid on you, and you frantically scanned your brain for something to fill the silence with.

“So, um,” you said, clearing your throat. “Michael’s, uh, how come Michael’s last name isn’t Mead?”

Fuck. That sounded so fucking stupid. Instinctively, you felt your eyes wander to Michael to see if he was laughing at you, which you hated yourself for; why should his stupid, pea-brained opinion mean anything to you anyway? As much as you wanted to distance yourself from that idiotic, made-up high school hierarchy, you always wound up finding yourself being sucked back in, it seemed.

“Well, my late husband’s last name was Langdon, and since he was kind of a dirtbag, I decided not to keep his name after he passed,” Miriam said slowly, as if taking very careful thought to word herself correctly. You took in a breath; this seemed like a whole new can of worms that you hadn’t meant to open up.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t talk about dad like that,” said Michael, his tone only half-playful, eyebrow cocking as he flashed his mother a knowing look.

“You try being cheated on multiple times, Michael. Then you’ll see that dirtbag is really a nice way of putting it.”

Oh, sure, you thought bitterly. As if Michael fucking Langdon is even remotely capable of understanding someone else’s pain.

You took this as your cue to stand up from your seat, mumbling something about needing to use the restroom before scurrying off in the opposite direction as fast as you could without drawing attention to yourself. If ten minutes with Michael as your psuedo-stepbrother got to you this badly, you could only imagine how awful your life was about to get.

You could only hope that your father would find some reason to nip things in the bud with Miriam, but right now, that appeared to be an unlikely prospect.

iii.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t end my shit right here and now,” you griped to your best friend, who sat crosslegged on your bed as you stood idly before your floor-length mirror, arms dangling limply at your sides in an unintentional stance of defeat. Your face was one that you hardly recognized anymore, forehead creased with worry and eyes shadowed by bruise-colored rings from a seemingly endless barrage of sleepless nights; a week ago, your father had gleefully announced his and Miriam’s engagement; you of course, as his loving daughter, had to behave as though you hadn’t just received the worst news of your life, which somehow you’d pulled off (for a second you wondered why you’d never taken up theater, seeing at how convincing your acting could be sometimes). It was like you’d been plucked from the familiarity of your boring, normal world and dropped into your own personally tailored hell without any warning at all, though you couldn’t think of a single thing you’d done bad enough to warrant you deserving this. “The worst person on the planet is about to be my fucking stepbrother and nobody else seems to think this is a big deal!”

Your best friend shook her head, letting out a snort as if any of this was even remotely funny in the slightest. “So your stepbrother is hot and cool and he pisses you off. They literally make porn about that.”

You resisted the urge to take her by the shoulders and shake her until some semblance of sense entered her head, instead shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans with a loud huff. “Yeah, but this isn’t fucking pornhub, (best friend’s name), this is real life! And I’d rather skin myself alive than sleep with that walking STD.”

“You have a lot more self respect than I do. It’s admirable,” she said, still startlingly calm for your liking, and you were beginning to believe that she’d never understand the mental turmoil you were currently suffering with. “Personally I’d ride him into the sunset, whether he had a herpes dick or not.”

You gagged, shaking your head with adamant disgust. Was she really that fucking horny? “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Sick for diiiiick,” she sang back, batting her eyelashes playfully at you. You turned away, scrounging up every weary shred of self restraint within you not to scream.

“Look, (b/f/n). I’m being serious right now. If you fuck him, or suck his dick, or whatever, I will literally never speak to you again.” Your tone was stern, and you faced her again to see whether your seriousness had computed in the hormonal wasteland that was her brain. There was an extended pause as she blinked at you, tilting her head to one side thoughtfully as she chewed her lipgloss-slick bottom lip.

“I mean, he wouldn’t fuck me anyways,” she finally said, still infuriatingly chipper. “I’m nobody. And he’s, like, royalty.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! I don’t care whether you think you have a chance with him!” You realized too late that you were nearly shouting, so you took in a shaky gulp of oxygen and coaxed yourself to soften your tone. The last thing you needed right now was for people to think you were losing your mind, although sometimes that was exactly what you felt like was happening. “Please, just promise me you won’t? I just need one aspect of my life not to involve him. Please?”

“Okay, fine,” she said, drawing her knees to her chest and settling her chin on top. “If it really matters that much to you, I’ll just shift my thirst to Dan Mott instead. That boy is a fucking snack and a half.”

A wave of almost-relief cascaded over your body, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself become one with this momentary victory.  

One year. Just one stupid, insignificant year until I can go away to college and forget all about him.

If you could survive that much, you told yourself, you’d be able survive anything.

You just hoped that intoxicating spell of his wasn’t strong enough to bring your best friend into his web of bullshit, alongside all the other girls who’d become entangled along the way.

If she did, you’d be stranded, left to run from Michael and his ever-expanding army all on your own.

iv.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the dreaded date of your father’s wedding ceremony arrived; now you stood amidst a small group of distant relatives at the subdued reception party, seeking refuge from the disturbing thought that, legally, Michael Langdon was now your brother, at the open bar.

You and your best friend had decided to make something of a game out of how many drinks you could finagle from the bartender without any adults noticing, which had ultimately proved to be pointless- an hour into the reception, your father had staggered over with two overflowing dirty Shirleys, thrusting them towards the two of you with a big, sloppy grin on his face.

To say he was in a good mood would be a severe understatement- the man was jovial, and you almost felt guilty for hating the circumstances of his marriage so much. By the raised-brow looks your best friend had been shooting at you all night, you knew she was thinking the same thing: that you were being selfish for worrying so much about yourself when this was the best thing that’d happened to your father in years. And maybe it was true; maybe you’d been so wrapped up in your own teen angst bullshit that you’d willingly blinded yourself from the truth. So, with your father’s beaming face dancing in the back of your mind, you pushed any thought about Michael back to the dredges where they belonged.

Fuck Michael Langdon. You couldn’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing that you were distraught, though you’d surely already made that pretty obvious over the past few months (he’d wasted no time in taunting you about it, seeming to relish in your death glares and eye rolls- hey, future sis! he’d crooned at you as you passed his table in the cafeteria one afternoon, nearly causing you to trip and spill your perfectly mediocre iced coffee all over yourself as his friends cackled like demented hyenas).

I’m not gonna let him bother me anymore.

I’m not gonna let him bother me anymore.

I’m not-

“SIS-TERRRRRR!”

Okay, this had to be some kind of divine test of will.

A blazer-glad arm flung itself around your shoulders and you flinched, immediately jerking away from your intoxicated stepbrother (god, it felt weird to refer to him that way) whose brash motions had sent you both stumbling.

“Getting shitfaced at your mom’s wedding… classy,” you spat, crossing your arms in front of your chest and narrowing your eyes at the blond-haired boy.

He was, admittedly, good-looking (only by conventional standards, of course); his lightly gelled blond hair had long since come undone, now soft and unkempt from hours of attention-whorish dancing, but you thought the disheveled look suited him better anyway (since his whole thing was to look like a grimy, rugged fuckboy, not because you personally found it attractive, obviously). He’d undone the top few buttons of his white top (no doubt the only formal article of clothing he owned), which was now stained beyond foreseeable repair with a colorful variety of liquids, and there was a bead of sweat traveling from his slick forehead to his model-sharp jaw. Even in disarray, he looked good, and you couldn’t help but hate him for it.

“God, you are so uptight,” he said, pale eyes flickering towards the multicolored ceiling in exaggerated annoyance as he dragged out his syllables with leisure. “You need to relax, set up a dick appointment or something. Or pussy appointment, I don’t know what you’re into.”

Your mouth fell open at this remark, too stunned by his vulgarity to even get angry with your friend, who had dissolved into a fit of giggles beside you; it wasn’t that you were some pearl-clutching grandmother- you had no issue discussing sexual matters with your friends, and in fact some would even say you had a perverted sense of humor. But this? This was different: something about the way those words had fallen from Michael’s mouth made you feel dirty.

At your lack of response, Michael flashed a pearly grin that could only be categorized as evil, and he crossed his arms to mimic your stance. “Oh, sorry. I forgot that you’re probably still a virgin.”

He glanced over to your friend, whose feeble attempts to suppress her second wave of laughter had proven unsuccessful, before averting his gaze back to you. “Aw, don’t feel bad, (y/n). There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer.”

Then, as if to punctuate his words, he smirked.

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, you felt something like a storm swirling inside of you, winds thick and unyielding and relentless, and you were almost positive that you’d tear him apart once the feeling aligned with the rest of your body.

It was then that the song blaring through the speakers switched to something inappropriately upbeat, each thump of the dance-friendly bass feeling like punches to the gut.

The storm inside you hadn’t been giving way to anger at all; it was sadness you were feeling in your belly, hopeless and humiliated sadness, though you couldn’t quite understand why: he’d made some stupid, generic joke to try and get a rise out of you- what else was new these days? Maybe it was the fact that your best friend was, by her passiveness and obvious amusement at your expense, encouraging his taunts when she was supposed to be there for you. Or maybe the reality had finally, finally sunken in, that this kind of interaction with Michael would now consume your life for the next year.

Either way, it didn’t make a difference, and as if on cue, the familiar sting of unshed tears arrived patiently at the back of your eyes.

All at once you were were dizzy; Michael’s perfect face was doubling and distorting before your eyes, and your friend’s pitched laughter rang like incessant, robotic television static in your ears.

With very last straw of self preservation you could grasp, you said nothing at all, walking away with the dazed sluggishness of a zombie on autopilot.

You considered yourself lucky; soon enough, you wouldn’t have the luxury of walking away at all.

“She’s too sensitive,” you heard your friend say, faintly, in the background of your thoughts.

You didn’t have the energy to wonder why she wasn’t coming with you, much less the energy to chastise her for being a bad friend, which was what you knew she deserved. If she cared more about getting Michael’s attention than preserving her friendship with you, you supposed there was no use in trying to stop her anymore.

He’s like a disease, you thought as you ambled your way towards the bathroom, surrounded by people but yet still so alone. He’s like a disease, infecting everyone he touches.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before he got to you, too.

Who knew? Maybe he already had.

tagging some people from my old iiw tag list!: (i’m sorry if i tagged anyone twice, i’m literally half asleep right now cuz i got like 2 hours of sleep in the past 24 hrs lol) @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney  @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer  @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri  @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast  @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy  @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon  @codycrazy @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation  @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @lvngdvns​ @langdonskillerqueen​ @aradevil​ @anemia-doll​ @muralskins​ @funtomimagines​ @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes​ @our-mrlangdon​ @lotsofhunny​ @sevenwonderwitch​ @horrorstreet​ @kpopmademedo-it​ @naughtygranger​ @codyshands​ @krazycags01​ @skullag​

[cyberneticfire]

Rude Awakening

(Credit to Void!Al goes to @daydream-squad!)

(Takes place after Epilogue)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Alastor, Charlie Magne, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk

TW: Panic Attack, Self-Harm, Vomit

~~~

Alastor didn’t wake all at once. His thoughts were sluggish, limbs were slow to respond, and his senses were all askew. He was uncomfortably warm. There wasn’t the empty coolness that came with the lack of air in the void; there was something smooth and soft beneath him and a fabric that made him itch to move away. The deer sank deeper into the plush instead with a barely audible sigh.

The gentle crackle of static weaving out of his chest screeched to a stop as red eyes pried open to peer into the darkness. They shut immediately after not being met with the familiar endless abyss. That wasn’t right.

There was ticking, tapping, a radio somewhere that made his ears twitch in discomfort after being in silence with nothing but his own thoughts and voice for so long. Alastor decided the headache was worth not being in the dark like that any longer, so he let his eyes open slowly and adjust to the dim lighting of the room. His room.

“What-” a cough wracked his body at the horrid scratching in throat, and he grasped at it in distress. Why was his throat so sore? A flash of white on his arm accompanied the movement and drew his attention next. The confusion, dread mix swirling in his stomach only got worse at the uncertainty of his situation. Bandages? This wasn’t… a hallucination. It felt too real.

His claws shifted to scratch at the wraps around his arms as he looked around. What the hell had happened? Light wasn’t filtering in through the window, so it must’ve been late. Alastor was beginning to hate this recurring cycle of pain, unconsciousness, then confusion. It left him with less dignity every time, and yet, what did he have left of that? No, if any of this was real, then that meant Charlie had been there, and he was really back at the Hotel.  

A soft click had black and red ears perking and Alastor’s head swiveling towards the door. The princess of Hell slid her way into the room, a hint of salt and something steamy making the deer demon lean forward in enticement. A tray was clutched in Charlie’s hands and she jolted upon seeing the Radio Demon dial-eyed and drooling at the smell of a simple broth.

“Oh-! Er, you’re up!” Her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the tray before she noticed him picking at the bandages. Her entire demeanor changed in an instant, and she was at his side immediately, nerves replaced with worry and irritation as she fussed over him. “Don’t tear the bandages, Al, you’re going to hurt yourself again- or more!”

Static buzzed as Alastor shrunk back at the sudden proximity, ears drooping, smile stiffening while his gaze flicked between Charlie’s concerned expression and the soup. The demon belle was obviously exhausted as well, dark circles prominent beneath her eyes, but with every breath making his stomach ache it was rather hard to focus on that. Food was right there out of reach.

Charlie’s eyes softened at the lack of response and the way the deer curled into himself instead of speaking or making himself bigger like usual. Then they widened in remembrance causing her to let out a squeak, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you must be starving!” In a flash the apologetic expression was back, and she was pressing the warm bowl into his hands, ignoring the flinch, after ensuring he wouldn’t drop it. “Don’t drink it too fast or you might get-” The soup was gone in three gulps when he tossed back the bowl, “-sick…”

The warm liquid soothed the soreness, making speaking sound like less of a challenge, and the broth filling the deer’s stomach let him blink the radio dials out of his eyes. Then they were narrowing in confusion and Alastor cleared his throat to speak before a bout of nausea had him gagging. Charlie yanked the bowl away with a yelp, shoving a bucket into his lap right in time for him to heave his guts out.

What a lovely impression he was making. Not even five minutes conscious back in the hotel and the deer already regretted waking up.

By the time he was aware again, Alastor was panting for air, clutching the edge of the container in a white-knuckled grip while Charlie muttered soothing nothings, rubbing circles into his back. Her fingers brushed hesitantly over his prominent spine, only pulling away at his shudder. Now this was humiliating.

There was a prickle of magic, a ghost of his former power, back in his body that he would address later, but summoning even a napkin seemed too big of a task. Thankfully, Charlie seemed to notice the deer’s plight and handed him a handkerchief which he used to wipe his mouth clean. Now vulnerable, weak, and a mess doubts began to surface. Charlie surely knew all of this, so why was she still bothering to help him?

When he was sure he wouldn’t be sick again, he asked the question that’d been plaguing him mercilessly since he woke up.

“What… happened?” Alastor’s radio tin warbled and shook. Pressing a hand to his sternum, he marveled at the throbbing pulsing in time with the erratic heartbeat behind his ribs. Being connected to all channels again for the first time in a long time he should easily be able to have a soft jazz rolling through the room, through his head, calming the furious beating of his heart. The radio fizzled and popped, but only jumbled bits of music began to filter softly through the air while Charlie wrung her hands. The sound wasn’t nearly as therapeutic as he’d hoped.

“W-Well,” she took a steadying breath, shifting to face him entirely. Her hands hovered over his own, but she refrained from touching without consent again. Despite the kind gesture, Alastor found he wanted the touch this time, so he closed the distance, wrapping his fingers loosely around hers. His ears pressed lower when she tensed up. Oh dear, fear was… not something he liked to see in her anymore. Certainly not because of him. She was quick to flash a smile and offer a gentle squeeze in return, regardless.

“I… found a way to save you, Al.” Her grip tightened minutely while a crackle filtered through his teeth. Yes, she had, but at what cost? He raised a shaky hand to brush a few of the tears welling up in her tired eyes.

“You look exhausted, dear…”

Charlie let out a watery laugh, and something settled like a stone in the deer’s gut. It was a feeling he’d become quite acquainted with in his time in the… void.

Guilt.

“You don’t exactly look too energetic yourself,” she joked. Huffing out a weak laugh, Alastor let his eyes trail lower. They widened marginally upon following her wrists up to her forearms.

White bandages. They were wrapped around her arms too. There was an audible click as realization dawned. Charlie’s gaze followed his own, and she winced as he gripped her arm in a firm hold.

“Al- “

“Did I do this?” There was no attempt at humor as his brows furrowed, smile diminishing. He turned her arm over carefully, claws lingering near the red dotting the white cloth. Charlie went rigid. These are fresh. They must have been from when she grabbed him.

“Alastor, it was an accident, you didn’t mean- “

“Did I do this?” He hardly heard her utter the yes.

Claws trembling, grip constricting, he fixed his gaze on the crimson seeping through. The scent of iron was more discernable now, making his head throb, his senses sharpen, and drool practically pool in his mouth. It was getting hard to think. He hurt her. Shame sank into the pit in his stomach – it was aching again – as he mulled over the fact. She helped him. And he cut open her arm. Dense static rolled from his chest as the tantalizing smell overwhelmed him. It’s been so long since he’s had a fresh meal. Even as he leaned forward, horns twisting, teeth sharpening, he thought things would’ve been better for all of them if she would have just let him wither away in the void.

“Alastor stop!”

Alastor’s eyes snapped open from their half-lidded, radio-dialed state as he jolted, attention jerking back to Charlie’s face. The poor dear looked terrified. It’d been a while since she’d looked at him in such a way and he didn’t fully understand why…

Warm liquid dribbled down his wrist. The deer looked down. His claws were embedded in her arm, drawing more of the sanguine liquid from beneath the bandages and gripping so tight it looked painful.

“L-Let go please,” she whispered, voice high like tears were threatening to spill over. Alastor ripped his hands away like she’d burned them. The smell of iron suddenly made his stomach turn over.

“Ch-Charlie I-” What could he even say to that display? Chest rising and falling mechanically, he wrapped his arms around his torso, digging nails into his sides instead. “- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me…”

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stood – strangely, panic lodged itself in Alastor’s chest – and she offered Alastor a tiny, tired smile at the genuine remorse plastered on his face.

“It’s okay- I’ll heal quickly. You’ve… been through a lot and you must still feel so confused… Besides, you rarely apologize, so I know you mean it,” she let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sure you’re still hungry, so I’ll just go get you some more-“

“Don’t leave!”

Charlie froze mid-turn at the unrestrained fear in the words. Alastor stiffened as well, slapping a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. When she’d started towards the door terror had seized his chest and squeezed the air out of his lungs, forcing out a pathetic sound too close to a whimper for comfort. What was wrong with him? She was going to be right back! Charlie wouldn’t leave him alone. She wouldn’t leave him to talk to himself until his throat hurt, to think until his head throbbed, to tear out all the blood from beneath his skin until red stained his hands, his arms, the black surrounding him, because everything was wrong, he was starving and going numb, going insane-

“Hey, breathe! Alastor, breathe, you’re gonna be okay- You’re okay, everything’s fine, I’m right here!” Charlie’s concerned face rushed back into view, food and injuries forgotten.

Breathe? Was he not breathing? That would certainly explain the burning lungs and raw throat. It was a contrast to the cold sweat plastering fabric to his skin and hair to his forehead. Ignoring the twinge in his side, Alastor jerked his claws up to tear the fabric, because that’s what had to be making it hard to take in a full breath, it was confining, it was suffocating-

Hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling them away, and he let out a high laugh, what little air he had wheezing out, because she was trying to stop him from helping himself! He wasn’t some useless deer demon; he just needed to get some semblance of control back and stop his chest from locking up, so why couldn’t she see that?

But Alastor was helpless, wasn’t he? At the least, he was too weak to twist out of Charlie’s grip, so he slammed his eyes shut, pressing back against something solid while teeth sank into his lip again. The blood leaked down his chin as shivers wracked his frame, Charlie’s voice fading in favor of the white noise filling his skull and bubbling up his throat.

Alastor hated this. Feeling exposed. Feeling vulnerable. Feeling cut open, irrational, petrified like the prey animal he represented. Charlie’s worried words of comfort and nervous chatter weren’t even audible anymore. Occasionally she would squeeze his wrists, but that was about the only grounding thing about this situation because opening his eyes would be a mistake. The deer wouldn’t be able to hold it together if black was all he would see, and static was all he could hear.

Hands were brushing against Alastor’s side, making him flinch, drawing a distressed keen from his throat. So much uncertainty. God, he was a coward and useless at the moment. There was a second’s hesitation before they were back, palms pressing against his chest and pulling him away from his safe spot pressed against the headboard.

His wrists were released at his weak struggles, but were reclaimed again with another pair of hands, the coarse material of gloves grating against his skin and doubling his confusion. This wasn’t Charlie. This touch was gentle, yet insistent, as it guided him back against something soft and warm and… breathing?

Yes, there was an exaggerated rise and fall against his back that was almost soothing in its repetition. The arms wrapped loosely around his chest shifted to make room for a third pair curling around his waist. Confusion gave way to relief as the static threatening to split his skull diminished at the safe, grounding feeling of being held. If he were in his right mind, he might’ve recoiled at the prospect of being embraced – trapped -  for any amount of time, but for now he supposed, this was fine…

The static diminished further until Alastor could hear himself hyperventilating, shallow gasps not dragging in nearly enough air to keep him conscious. There were deeper breaths coming from the one restraining him. A voice became clear soon after, and he could put a face to it almost immediately.

“-got it, just try to breathe like me, Al-“

Angel. That certainly explained the extra arms but not what he was doing. Alastor was having difficulty fulfilling his request anyhow. Didn’t Angel think that he would if he could? He was trying.

“C-Ca-Can’t…” was all he managed to force out in a whine. Black and red ears flattened further against the deer’s head at the state of his voice. Angel hugged tighter in either surprise or reassurance.

“Sure ya can, Al, just open your eyes… Try and copy me,” he hummed, starting to count his breaths aloud. Alastor could’ve cried in frustration, but did as he was told, gradually peeling his eyes open. Finding vague blurs of color and what looked like a concerned Charlie perched on the edge of the bed he concluded he had in fact been crying. The tears were still rolling down his cheeks, making the fresh cuts on his lips burn. Lovely.

After some coaxing from Angel Dust, breathing came at a pace resembling normal, even if his lungs were aching from the previous abuse. Still trembling violently and sucking in air greedily, Alastor was shocked to find he didn’t want Angel to let go just yet.

“Hey, Smiles, you back with us?” the spider asked, tentatively. Alastor offered the barest minimum of a nod, smile lacking its usual energy and eyes hollow. “I can let go of you now, if you-“

“No,” Alastor swallowed the lump rising in his throat, claws hooking themselves in Angel’s sleeves. Angel blinked in surprise at the sharp reaction but readjusted his grip in compliance, releasing the deer’s hands once he was sure they wouldn’t gash anyone, himself included.

“I-I mean… I’d rather you d-didn’t…” The deer, usually immaculate in his speech, stammered. Heat rushed to Alastor’s face. Now that he had the presence of mind to consider his words and the scene he’d caused, he struggled to ignore the shame burning within him. Any demon in their right mind would drop him in an instant, thinking much less of him of course - him the late, great Radio Demon! – and now Alastor waited with bated breath for the hatred, the disapproval, the disgust he was sure painted his friends’ faces-

“’Kay.”

And with a single word, not even a full one at that, Alastor’s expectations were dashed. He was reluctant to let hope flood his chest – Lucifer, he didn’t recall caring this much about what others thought – but the six arms wrapped snugly around him, the spider wiggling to lean back more comfortably against the pillows, and the soft look on Charlie’s face made it all the more difficult to stop the warmth blooming in his ribcage.

“Most people would pay to get cuddles like this you know,” Angel let out a soft laugh, concern still lacing his voice, and just like that the warmth was gone. Alastor swallowed thickly, eyes dropping to look at his and Angel’s legs sprawled before them. The feeling of wrongness was back. He didn’t belong here, in this place, with these people that he’d hurt. Of course, he’d be a bother, they’d all had so much time to get used of his absence!

“I apologize,” he’s been doing that frequently as of late, “it’s wrong of me to ask this of you! I still haven’t the foggiest idea of what came over me-” he was moving to get up as he spoke, only for Angel to gently pull him back down until the deer was slumped sideways against his chest and blushing furiously. His hands curled – against his will – into the spider’s jacket, and Alastor stole a glance at his face, half expecting to see some form of annoyance or exasperation. Angel’s brows were furrowed, yes, but it didn’t seem to be in annoyance, considering his eyes were soft and a sympathetic smile was tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Al, it’s fine, I was just making a joke. I ain’t gonna kick you off for wanting comfort after a whole fu- fricken panic attack.” Angel amended his words at the Princess’s glare, but something about Alastor’s reaction seemed to confuse him. “You ever have more of those before?” Alastor blinked slowly, eyes narrowing in puzzlement.

“Panic… attack?” The words rolled unfamiliar off his tongue. No, the term wasn’t one he was… familiar with. And now it was Angel’s turn to look uncertain, but realization was quick to dawn at the deer’s clueless expression.

“Shit, Al, do you even know what that is?” A tiny shake of the head. Angel let out a breath through his teeth, ignoring Charlie’s stare. “Um, alright… well what you just went through looked to be a panic attack. I’ve seen a lot considering my job. Usually you’ll feel scared, out of breath, and if it’s really bad you might think you’re dying or something like that… They can be triggered by a bunch of different things. Charlie said you started freaking out when she tried to leave, and you weren’t responding to anything else so…” He waved his lower set of hands pointedly as he continued, “Sorry about breaking the whole ‘Five Foot Rule’, but it was the only thing you reacted sort of positively to.”

Alastor mumbled a dismissal, already having trouble focusing with his eyelids getting heavier by the minute. A panic attack, hm? So, there was a technical term for these lapses. Poor Angel seemed to know more about them than he let on, but… if he were to go by that description, then Alastor could recall one or two instances – outside of the void – that he’d had one. Though, just because they had a name, he didn’t feel any less ashamed that a vulnerability had been displayed at all. Then again, Angel has already seen him not at his best, and Charlie most definitely has seen him at his worst…

Oh, what the hell.

“I do remember an occurrence in my… youth that sounds similar to what you described.” He took in a steadying breath, pushing the thoughts of weakness out of his mind, as their heads jerked to stare at him in surprise. “I was never fond of dogs, you see, and… one day a particularly aggressive mutt decided to follow me while I was on my way home. I tried to outrun it once I’d realized, but… by the time my father had come to see what was taking me so long, the damned thing had latched onto my leg and I’d been experiencing… symptoms like the ones you described.”

Alastor could still remember the feeling like blunted knives sinking into his leg; not sharp enough to make a clean cut, but strong enough to make up for it. The sound of the thing’s snarling, the deranged look in its eyes as it jerked it’s head back and forth, spilling more of his precious blood into the dirt.

“He was able to scare the beast off, but I never did look at them the same way after that… Even the thought of going near one of those creatures again made my breath falter. I always assumed it was just a lapse of fragility on my part, and my father agreed, so I ignored it. I didn’t allow myself to avoid where I knew they would be. Eventually these… attacks… stopped of their own accord, or I got so used to the feeling that they no longer could stop me in my tracks.”

Silence.

Alastor swore he could have heard a pin drop after his little monologue. Perhaps they weren’t expecting him to speak quite so much after his spell of silence? Or of the subject matter? The Radio Demon wasn’t known for sharing his innermost feelings, after all. Exhaustion sank deeper into his bones. Truth be told, the amount he revealed surprised him as well.  Something written on Charlie’s face made him reconsider telling them the story in the first place, and Angel was giving him the same undecipherable look.

“Alastor that’s… horrible, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Charlie breathed, looking sympathetic as ever. Alastor’s brows lowered further at that. He wasn’t looking for pity- he was simply answering Angel’s previous question! The story itself certainly wasn’t something to feel sorry about. It was his fault for being such a coward, so why were they looking at him like that?

“Al, you realize that… this doesn’t make you weak, or whatever shit you’re thinking, right? Hell, it can happen to the scariest demon you could think of! It’s not something you can control.” Angel shot a look to Charlie over his head.

Now they were both being ridiculous. Surely with enough time, these panic attacks would be just as… manageable as they were back then. If miraculously forgetting how to breathe at the sight of a dog could be considered manageable…

Regardless, this train of thought was pointless! He hardly had a fear of the hellish creatures anymore; a mild discomfort maybe…

“Alastor?” Charlie chimed in from the edge of the bed, a touch of concern coloring her voice. The deer blinked a few times, mind jumping back to the present conversation.

“Yes, darling?”

“Sorry, you just looked… lost in thought for a minute there,” she chuckled, moving to stand and watching carefully for any reaction. Claws curled further into Angel’s blazer, but other than that he offered none. “Since you and Angel seem to have things… handled, I’ll just run to get that food,” Alastor’s ear twitched, “and have Niffty bring some more bandages!” Her eyes flicked to the bit of red seeping through the white on his arms, while Alastor’s went to her own bloody bandages with a pang of remorse.

The clicking of her shoes as she walked set Alastor’s teeth on edge – he would have to grow accustomed to these regular sounds again – but mid-reach for the door, Charlie was whirling around with a startled, “Oh! And before I forget- Husk, Niffty, and Vaggie might drop in to see you on their own time, if that’s alright with you?”

Alright with him? Well, he certainly wouldn’t send them away, but apprehension rose as he considered the number of things they might have to say. Ignoring the inner turmoil, he offered her another muffled affirmative, face still smooshed against Angel’s chest, causing said spider to snicker.

“Sorry Princess, he’s using the best damn pillow in all of Hell! It’s only natural he’d be out like a light.” That earned a brighter laugh, and Alastor couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from quirking at the spider’s antics. He retaliated by making himself more comfortable and curling his legs up. Yes, that’ll show Angel…

When the door shut with a click, Alastor found himself relaxing further. His sides were throbbing, but he was more comfortable than he’d been in ages. He was safe. Not alone. Not drowning in silence.

Then the radio on the nightstand clicked on, sending a jolt through his body – he hadn’t even realized the thing had fallen silent – while bits of music filtered in and out of the air.

Angel readjusted his hold, pulling his hand away from the device and glancing down apologetically. “Sorry, I thought you might like the radio back on.”

Alastor did. Radio waves tugged insistently at his heart, easing a pressure previously ignored in the void, but he simply let the sound remain without much consideration on the matter. Thoughts were too jumbled to bother changing the channel or thinking too hard on the lack of strain he’d grown used to. The sound itself was… soothing in its own way. The deer had no idea how to convey the appreciation he felt for everything Angel was doing, so he just offered a tighter squeeze, arms wrapped firmly around the spider.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the overwhelming warmth again. Words would catch in his throat if he tried to speak again, so he stayed silent. Alastor’s face was entirely hidden in Angel’s chest at this point, pride be damned, as the bone-deep exhaustion fought to claim him, and the red refused to leave his cheeks.

“It’s no problem, Smiles,” Angel let out a soft huff, “Just try and get some sleep, huh? You can repay me by getting better and telling us dad jokes until good ‘ol Huskie slams his head into the bar…” The spider’s voice trailed off. “Al?” Glancing down, he found the deer breathing lightly, ears twitching, fingers curling gently into his jacket. The sight was adorable, and it took everything in the spider not to rip his phone out and take a picture. Another look, and he had to suppress a squeal of delight at the extra black and red appendage wagging slowly, peaking from beneath the red undershirt.

“Oh my god, he has a tail?”

.

.

.

Nearly an hour later and the hotel was thoroughly blanketed in Hell’s version of night, darkness leaking through the curtains and absorbing any sliver of light that attempted to slip by. Angel Dust was still wide awake, five arms tasked with snuggling the life out of the infamous Radio Demon, while the sixth hand tapped mindlessly away at his phone and sent messages to the various others still up at this hour. Said deer demon, thankfully, slept like the dead and didn’t wake when Angel moved the red head to his chest fluff. Hey, he might get kicked or have an antler jabbed in his eye come morning, but he was going to make sure Alastor was damn comfortable using him as a pillow.

The past few hours in themselves had been… difficult to say the least. One minute he’s thinking of all the different ways he can annoy Husk without getting cut off from his beloved supply of alcohol, and in the next Vaggie’s saying Charlie’s ‘ready’ to try and bring their resident Strawberry Pimp back? He’d thought it was too good to be true, but hell, the deer was sleeping soundly on him right now!

Challenged with wrapping more bandages around the deer’s stomach, – the previous panic focused the brunt of his clawing there – Angel was thankful for the extra limbs and dexterity because Alastor hadn’t so much as twitched, now wrapped like a Christmas present. Though he did have a really fuckin’ adorable snore that Angel would gladly remember for the rest of his afterlife.

After a brief conversation over text, Charlie found a good time to stop by to drop off the thermos of soup, shoulders slouching, black circles evident under her eyes, for all purposes making Alastor look like the pinnacle of health in comparison. To put it honestly, Angel thought she looked like double-death warmed over. The thought was not a pleasant one. Despite the obvious exhaustion, she’d offered a tired smile and a wave before walking out, presumably to find her girlfriend and snuggle up for the night.

Niffty had come rushing in a second later, nearly crashing into the side of the bed in her haste, and he’d had to free a hand to slap over her mouth before she could wake Alastor up with her rapid-fire questioning. After receiving a look of understanding and less surprisingly, tiny teeth sinking into his glove, he removed his hand and wrapped it back around the deer’s back. She’d been the one to bring the bandages in the first place, placing them neatly to the side, before settling in to just watch them for a while. It was a tad creepy, but Angel’s seen worse, and he couldn’t exactly blame her considering her old boss/mentor/father figure(?) was lying unconscious after being previously double-dead for the past five months. The poor bug couldn’t even say anything to him. Eventually she’d zipped out the room fast as she’d come, muttering something about a ‘mess’ somewhere and sounding a bit too sniffly for Angel’s liking.

Even Husk had poked his head in at one point. The cat’s ears perked, and his nose scrunched up in a cute way at the sight of Alastor huddling up against the spider. Sunset colored eyes narrowed in something like frustration, but at what he couldn’t be sure. Angel had put on his best ‘aw you do care’ face, blinking half-lidded eyes slowly while Husk flipped him off, slinking away to get even more drunk than he already was.

The rest of his time was spent tapping away at his phone until the static in the air slipped into background noise and he thought he might have a chance of sleeping at this point. The static may have been soothing to the Radio Demon, but other demons would have a bit more trouble sleeping with the ruckus. Good thing Angel was used of sleeping through most anything. With a yawn, he reached to place his phone on the nightstand, blinking in surprise as he noticed the radio.

“What the…” he mumbled, watching the thing sift through channels with a distinct lack of music. Earlier, clips of 1930 era songs had at least been playing irregularly, but now, there was only a white noise that punctured the air and made his fur stand on end.

The source of this problem was easily identifiable as Alastor himself, considering the deer had tightened his hold, brows furrowing, and smile shrinking. His claws were beginning to prick uncomfortably into Angel’s lower back, and it took a moment to register what was actually wrong with the deer.

Alastor was trembling. He was honest to god shaking like a leaf, tiny pips of static crawling up his throat and escaping past his tight-lipped smile like whimpers. Angel’s eyes softened. He was certainly no stranger to nightmares.

“You’re okay, Al… Pretty impressive that you’re smilin’ even now, but that static gets any louder and everyone in the hotel might drop by to complain…” The noise really was reaching a harsh volume that made Angel wince. “I know you’d hate that, wouldn’t you?” he huffed out a nervous laugh, hands hesitating over the deer’s head. Would this get him bitten, kicked, or otherwise stabbed? Probably. There was only one way to know, and Angel was standing by the assumption that the ‘five foot rule’ was still being bent for now.

Gently, Angel ran his hands over Alastor’s ears. By Lucifer, he’d always wanted to pet the fluffy things, and as his fingers trailed down to the base, carding through the red hair, he was pleased to find the slightest bit of tension easing out of his friend’s body. Rubbing around the bottom of the appendages made them flick and flatten slowly against Alastor’s head, the white noise that filled the room lowering with every twitch, until the music was audibly skipping in and out again.

Angel sighed in relief, head falling back to the headboard with a quiet thunk. Wiggling himself lower, letting his head plop back onto the maroon pillows, he was glad to note that Alastor’s shaking had subsided too. Previously labored breaths slowed to an even pace, bar the occasional hitch. A low static rumbled out his chest as Angel continued to rub around the black-tipped ears, and the spider would consider the sound reminiscent of a cat’s purring.

“Damn it Al, why you gotta be so secretly adorable? It’s too late for this shit,” he sighed. There was nothing but fondness in his voice as he watched the deer twitch and curl closer in his sleep. The usually terrifying Radio Demon was letting him see a more vulnerable, reserved side, and Angel would not take advantage of it. That isn’t to say he wasn’t going to enjoy the adorable mental images he was imprinting into his brain, but he also wouldn’t go telling people that he’d ‘slept with the Radio Demon’, despite how hilarious the looks on their faces would be. Alastor wouldn’t think it was funny.

With another deeper sigh, Angel decided he may as well follow in the deer’s footsteps – hoof-steps? Oh god, did Alastor have hooves too? Just what else was the deer holding out on? In any case, sleep sounded like a great idea. He let his eyes slide shut with an amused grin.

“If you promise not to kick me with your possibly secret hooves when you wake up, I promise not to tell anyone you like to cuddle…”

Alastor, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond, only offering a soft huff of air to the conversation. Angel submitted himself to the idea of being rudely awakened once Alastor came to, but he found as the drowsiness took over and the deer pressed closer, that he wouldn’t be too mad either way.

They’d all been through hell these past five months, and he’d be damned if he pushed their resident Radio Demon away when he needed them most. There were a lot of things to be explained after all… Alastor had missed a lot in his absence. With that thought in mind, Angel settled in for the night, silently vowing to help their friend adjust in any way that he could.

Neither demon stirred for the rest of the night.

[mcwriting]

starstruck (5)

It’s finally here!!! I’m so sorry this took literally 5ever but it’s here now! Ch 6 is also written but I don’t plan on releasing it until 7 is done. In the meantime, I’ll be releasing some other things I’ve had in the works for a while so be on the lookout for those ;)

Thanks to all who’ve followed me and been reading! I love you!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Tommy Holland 

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2013

Warnings: a little bit of language; general sad time emotions

Rating: K+ still i guess

                            __________________________________

You had run up the stairs upon entering your house, yelling out a quick “hey I’m home” to your parents to keep from rising suspicion. 

You tossed your bag onto your desk chair and went and sat on the big bean bag in the corner of your room, curling up into it under a blanket. 

It was nearing 4 o’clock and you knew that the beans would be spilled any moment now. 

You were absolutely nauseous.

You refreshed Instagram over and over until a notification came up at the top of your feed.

Tomholland2013 started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Tears slipped down your cheeks again and you clicked on it, turning up the volume as the obviously anguished face of your worst nightmare appeared on the screen. The way his eyes puffed unnaturally led you to believe he, too, had been crying. 

He waited a few seconds for people to join and weakly smiled. It broke your heart to see him in this state, but it pained you even more to know how it had come to this.

“Hey, everyone,” he began quietly, waving to the camera. You recognized the background photos from his hotel room and continued to weep harder.

Comments were rolling in, concerned fans asking Tom if he was okay and what was going on. Even some of his celebrity friends appeared to be confused in the comments.

“I wanted to address some rumors going on about me and the mystery girl. That girl is y/n y/l/n. We met by accident at the premiere last week and snapped a photo together as I’m sure you’ve all seen. Fast forward to only a few days ago, when I helped take her to the hospital.”

He paused. Comments were getting more frequent as the live stream continued, more people joining by the second. 

Your breath was caught in your throat and chest was heavy and tight.

Am I having a panic attack? you thought before Tom continued.

“I took y/n to the hospital because she injured her head and I happened to be at the right place at the right time. That’s all that happened. We have only met those two times and I am happy that I was there when she needed help.”

You help back sobs at this point, not wanting to alarm your parents but unable to suppress the emotions you felt about his lying.

“Every other theory or suspicion is false. Those photos were of me driving her to the doctor. Y/n and I have had no contact since the incident, so please don’t bother her any further. I just wanted to come on and say y/n, I hope you’re feeling better and doing well, and to let all of you fans know the truth.”

He looked away from the camera when he said “truth,” and you were angered more.

This wasn’t the truth. This wasn’t okay. This wasn’t the Tom you’d come to know and even consider a friend. 

“Finally, thank you all for the support on the movie and I love seeing your reactions. I will resume doing press this weekend when I head to South Korea and then China next week. I’m glad I could share this film with you and once again, I hope you’re feeling better y/n and that we could possibly meet again when you are okay. Thank you all.”

He gave a final wave and slight grin before ending the stream, struggling to tap the button multiple times and swearing a bit as he finally did it.

You wanted to throw your phone across the room and smash it to pieces and simultaneously lock yourself in the closet and never leave. Another part of you yearned to scream the truth over the rooftops and tell the world how horrible Tom was for this.

Now I know why I never liked him you imagined again. 

You finally worked up the courage to send one message to b/f/n.

I’m sorry.

You hit send and seconds later another text came through from someone else.

I’m so sorry. It’s done.

Who from? 

Clara twinkletoes, of course.

You tossed your phone away from you on the carpet and snuggled further into the bean bag, trying to muffle the sounds of sobs with your blanket.

                             __________________________________

Your parents called you down for dinner, but food wasn’t on your mind in the slightest.

You probably looked like you’d been hit by a truck as you made your way down the stairs, and your mom and dad noticed immediately.

“Oh my gosh, baby. What happened?” your mother fawned, rushing to you and placing her hands softly on your cheeks. 

“Tom Holland,” you mumbled, defeated. 

“Is that some boy I need to put in his place?” your dad asked sincerely, brows furrowed. 

You shook your head slightly and pulled away from your mother. 

“I thought that was the actor boy b/f/n likes but you don’t. Didn’t she go meet him last week?” she inquired.

“Look up his name online, I’m sure you’ll find the fabricated story somewhere.”

You apathetically began building your plate, scooping some lasagna out and grabbing a small bit of salad as your parents scanned the TMZ article that had been published with the help of an “anonymous source.”

“The source says y/l/n has shown previous disdain for the ‘Spider-Man’ star, but is grateful for the help he extended in her dire situation. Her social media is booming as both fans and haters flock to ask about her encounter, but no word has been published by her yet. It’s only a matter of time before the California native makes a statement. Most are calling her lucky, and we don’t blame her,” your mom read aloud. 

You thought you had no tears left to cry before, but more slipped down your cheek as you slid into a chair at the dining table.

“What is this?” your mom asked as she and your dad looked up from the article to you.

You started explaining everything over your dinner halfheartedly, trying not to let your emotions continue to get the best of you. 

They reacted with both concern and surprise as you told the story from beginning to present, choosing not to leave out the part where Tom had secretly been in the house a few nights previous. 

The lie was over, and the only way to move forward was with the truth, no matter how your parents would react. 

Upon finishing the tale, you looked up from your barely eaten meal to find both parents eyeing you sympathetically. 

“That’s it. That’s everything. Punish me how you see fit. Nothing could be worse than what I’ve already been through today.”

“Honey, we aren’t going to punish you. You’re an adult and you made some decisions that you can’t un-make. The consequences have already presented themselves. What matters now is how you move on from this,” your mom began. 

“And we’ll be behind you every step of the way,” your dad finished. 

You couldn’t help but smile and stood to hug them, welcoming their warm embraces. While cherishing the moment, you still couldn’t help but fear for b/f/n’s reaction.

“We may have to talk about you being able to sneak a boy into the house under our noses, though,” your father joked as you leaned into their arms.

                             __________________________________

You readied for bed after spending a few hours curled into the couch watching evening programming. 

You hadn’t looked at your phone once since receiving that text from Tom and dreaded looking at it, but decided to do so anyways. 

You saw that there was a message from b/f/n but decided to ignore it for now. 

Snapchat was filled with snaps from friends and acquaintances who had learned of the incident already. 

Leaving them on read was the only feasible option right now.

A quick scan of Instagram and Twitter shot your anxiety through the roof and you refused to make any posts just yet. 

The world would just have to wait for your mental health to improve.

Eventually you worked up the nerve to open the text from b/f/n, ignoring all others from family and other close friends. 

This isn’t you, it began.

You have a lot of explaining to do if you expect me to understand or forgive you, but I’m not writing you off just yet

Let me know when you’re ready to talk.

You honestly couldn’t believe it. 

Sure, you two had been friends for years and been through thick and thin, but you also knew how she could react in anger and be unforgiving for a long time. 

It took about 20 minutes of you staring at her texts and pacing the room to think up a reply, and your words still would never make up for all of it.

I really don’t know if I am ready to share, but I swear on my life that you’ll be the first to hear from me when I am. I’ll be in touch soon. Thank you, I love you.

With that, you placed the phone on the charger on do not disturb and you crawled onto the bed.

A certain scent hit you like a truck upon laying down. 

You inhaled sharply and tensed. 

That damned cologne was still there.

Sleeping like this was not an option, so immediately you got back up, headed out the door, and made your way to the guest room.

That would have to work tonight, and tomorrow you would have to decide between washing or burning your bedsheets. 

Those thoughts didn’t make it too far, though, because almost immediately after your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

                             __________________________________

You couldn’t do anything.

All day you had stayed in, afraid to be seen in public and even worse, be confronted about this. You couldn’t even make yourself go to dance in avoidance of your classmates.

Instead, you spent the day managing your anger and sadness through working out for almost two hours and eventually breaking down on the floor of your makeshift home gym. 

Your mom had taken off from work to keep watch of you and came in upon hearing you. She sat down on the floor and embraced you, ignoring the sweat covering your body and clothes. 

After finally managing to get up, you headed back upstairs and hopped into a long hot bath. Maybe that would cleanse you of all of this.

It didn’t. 

Later, you stripped your bed of the sheets and tossed them in the wash, dumping a scoop and a half of laundry detergent in for good measure. You also misted the bare mattress and pillows with linen spray just in case. 

You wouldn’t let anything remind you of him. 

The day went by too slowly as isolation set in. You couldn’t check social media because your feed was overloaded with inquiries, and you couldn’t talk to your friends because they were just as bad as the fans and haters. 

You were now sitting watching youtube videos while your mom watched tv. You weren’t paying attention until you heard the volume go up.

Upon looking up at the screen, you saw that she was watching Entertainment Tonight and they were running a story on you. 

It felt like your stomach had dropped to the floor when your name was said by one of the journalists. Even though you knew that what they’d say was false, you couldn’t look away. 

They basically recapped everything Tom and the TMZ article had said, but also mentioned that you had been talked about on other talk shows and gossip sites all night and day. 

Your mom gave you a sympathetic look, but you chose to ignore it all, rolling your eyes and continuing to try to figure out how to move on. 

Eventually you would have to leave the house and talk about it all, but today was necessary for self care and reflection.

                             __________________________________

That’s it for this one! It’s realllllll dramatic but oh well haha. Thanks for reading and sorry it took so long to put out!

If you wanna be added to the tag list, please send an ask or message bc I can’t reply to comments on posts since this is a side blog :(

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @worn-off

[jbbarnesandnoble]

Forever and Always: Part 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to date, until someone got in between you two. After a year without seeing him, he pops up in your life again, and old feelings with him?Harsh words can never taken back, but can they be forgiven?

Chapter Summary: Christmas Eve/Day, New Year’s Eve

Word Count: 2,131 

Warnings: Things are gonna get super messy from here on out:)

A/N: Y/N/N stands for, Your nickname. Sorry for the delay, my brother came from Australia to visit for 3 weeks -he actually leaves today, so I’m not sure when I’ll see him next- and my older sister came from Florida for a few days. So we had a family reunion. Which is why I haven’t been working on F&A. Please leave some feed back, I love to know what you all are thinking. If you want me to tag you in this series feel free to let me know!

Christmas Eve

Back when you were in college you started a tradition where every Christmas Eve you would bake cookies for all of your close friends and family members.

Slowly that small tradition turned into something much bigger. You started baking cookies for your neighbors, co-workers, even your mail man Happy

His real name is Harold, you call him Happy because he always seems to be so happy whenever you see him.

At six-thirty you decide to start baking. Natasha went out with Clint to pick up some last minute things for tomorrow. You take advantage of having the place to yourself, playing your music at full volume. After gathering all the necessary ingredients and items you’ll need, you put on your favorite apron. It’s the one Bucky got you, as soon as he found out your love for baking he practically ran out of his house to get it for you. He told you that he thought the 1940′s style suited you. You weren’t quite sure what that meant, but you couldn’t deny how sweet the gesture was.

A while later you’re dancing around singing at the top of your lungs, using a spoon covered in cookie batter as your microphone. Which is probably why you didn’t notice Nat come home. Or when she called out your name.

“Did you start the Christmas Cookie festivities without me?” Nat manages to yell over the music. Her sudden appearance makes you jump.

“My gosh woman, maybe try a warning next time.” you place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down after experiencing a near heart attack.

“Maybe try turning your music down next time, and I did. I called your name like three times." she sasses you back, placing a hand on her hip

“Oh... Sorry.”

“I can’t believe you would start baking without me.” ignoring your apology she makes her way towards the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t know when you would be home and I didn’t feel up to baking at 2-am.” which was true, but you also prefer baking alone. You can do it at your own pace and you don’t have to worry about the other person asking  you what to do. Plus it helps to calm your nerves.

“Well, I’m back now. Put me to work Y/N/N.” her red lips spread into an effortlessly beautiful smile. You baked a decent amount of the cookies already. You only have a few batches left to make. While Nat works on make more batter, you start decorating a few of the cooled cookies. 

After all of the cookies have cooled and been decorated Nat helps you assemble the cookie bags 

“I think we’ve outdone ourselves this year, Y/L/N.” Nat licks a bit of frosting off her index finger.

“I think you’re right, Romanoff.” You say with a smile

Christmas Day

You spend the day running from place to place, spending most of the morning with your family. Then meeting up with Bucky and Sam before going to Steve and Peggy’s place for a bit. Afterwards you stop by Wanda’s small apartment located directly above her jewelry store to drop off her present. You didn’t stay long, seeing as her brother is in town for the holidays and you didn’t want to be in the way of their time together. 

After a long day you’re happy to relax home, Nat spent the day with Clint and his family. You say hi to him briefly when he drops her off. 

“Are you ready for the real Christmas festivities to begin?” Nat says with a sly smile. You know she can only mean one thing.

“If you mean, Christmas pajamas, Eggnog, cookies, and binge watching cheesy Christmas Rom-Coms? Then of course I am!” You both let out an excited squeal. The two of you have had the same Christmas tradition for as long as you can remember. It has always been your favorite part of the whole holiday. 

“You get the food I’ll set up the movies.” Nat says a bit too excitedly

You spend the rest of your night happily watching movies and eating junk food while spending time with one of your best friends.  

  New Year’s Eve

You wake up slowly already regretting tonight. You have no reason to be anticipating the worst. You have no reason to. Yet for some reason you have it in your mind that something is going to get wrong.  

You told Nat, Wanda, and Peggy that you've been dreading this night since you agreed to it and have no idea why. Tonight isn’t meant to be making you stress so much. In fact, it’s meant to be quiet the opposite, nothing more than a fun night with your friends. The three of them agreed that you were just being paranoid and that you have no reason to be worrying. But somehow that only made you feel worse.

"What could possibly go wrong?" You think, trying to reassure yourself. Even though you know that is the last question you should be asking yourself. Because once you ask that, every possible thing that could go wrong, goes wrong.

You’ve spent the last few hours trying on different outfits only to rip them back off and throw them onto the mountain of clothes that is taking over your bed. You plop onto your it with a tired huff. 

If Nat were here she would help you pick an outfit no problem. But alas she’s not, she went out with Clint this morning and told you that she would meet you at the party later on.

The thought of canceling crosses your mind a couple of times, but is quickly replaced with the picture of Bucky smiling brightly at you when you first agreed to go that day in the coffee shop.

You sit up with an aggravated huff. Looking around your messy room you finally decide it’s not worth stressing over and grab a plain black dress from the top of the clothing pile on your bed.

After a quick shower, you get dressed and apply a bit of makeup. Once you’re ready you begrudgingly leave the comfort of your small New York apartment.

An hour later you find yourself sitting in your car outside of Bucky's apartment building. After giving yourself a bit of a prep talk you head inside, making your way for the small elevator.

Getting inside you press the small button that'll take you to his floor. You stand there watching the floor numbers getting higher and higher, your anxiety growing with each floor. When you finally reach his floor you slowly make your way towards his apartment.

Even though it's been over a year since you've been to his place you still know the building like the back of your hand.

You're about to turn down his hallway, but stop short when you hear loud footsteps thumping down the hallway. You turn around to see Sam with a crooked smile planted on his face.

"Hey Y/N!" you give Sam a knowing head nod and smile.Without missing a beat you fist bump as he walks up to you.

You exchange pleasantries before you continue on your way, walking together.

Without knocking Sam leads you inside Bucky's apartment. As soon as you step inside a wave of old forgotten memories and nostalgia washes over you. You're too busy looking around to notice Sam left your side to say hi to everyone in the living area.

You only seem to notice the loud music and all of your friends sitting around laughing when Clint calls you over. You smile to everyone before taking a seat on the couch next to Wanda.

As soon as you take your seat you notice someone missing from the group. Looking around you lean closer to Wanda.

"Where's Buck?" You whisper, the question being for Wanda's ears only. She doesn't answer you, only nodding towards the kitchen. You offer her a small smile before sneaking off.

Slowly you open the door to the kitchen to reveal Bucky working on some last minute preparations for tonight. He has always been a perfectionist when it comes to hosting a party, even when it's as small as it is today. Everything has to be perfect.

You don't want to ruin this moment by walking inside the kitchen, instead you chose to lean on the door frame, watching Bucky work intently.

"Hey." You say quietly, smiling at him. If your sudden presence scared him he doesn't show it. Instead he grins at you.

"Hey Y/N."

"What's so important that it demands your attention. While your friend are having fun without you in the other room." You ask walking over to him

"That's a secret." Bucky says with an easy smile and wink. Even though he's smiling you can always tell when something is bothering him.

"What's wrong Buck?" You ask him softly putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with doll." He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you can see the worry behind it.

"Is it your dad again?" For as long as you have known James Barnes his dad has had health issues. Whenever he falls ill Bucky has to take charge of the company, putting more stress on him than he already has.

Bucky has always been the type to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, no matter what he's going through. And if he was ever offered the world? He would refuse it.

He gives you another small smile -sad this time- and a weak nod.

Without another word you place your hand on his shoulder and offer him a small reassuring smile in return.

You're all out in the living room when a few more of Bucky’s friends arrive. You remember a few of them from previous parties and company events that Bucky invited you to.

"Hey Y/N, wanna get a refill with me?" Nat shakes the ice in her empty glass. She exchanges a strange look with Peggy and Wanda. Before you agree, even though your glass is still full.

"Haha, what's going on? You girls are making me nervous." You know you didn't have to add the last part, they can clearly tell you're concerned from how you’re acting.

"Y/N, Natasha and I have something to tell you." Peggy's words are gentle and slow.

"Go ahead Nat, tell her what you told me." Wanda puts her hand on Nat's.

"As you know, Bucky is in a relationship." She starts slowly.

"The other day -on our way to drop some things off here- Peg and I accidentally overheard a... strange conversation."

"It was a man and a woman. The man seemed to be frustrated about something, he even gave her a deadline." Peggy adds

"He said something about not getting the money fast enough, that whatever it is their planning, it shouldn't be taking this long." Nat looks at Peggy, hoping she'll fill you in on some of the blanks.

"From what we could understand, we assume that these people were lying and manipulating some poor soul for his money."

"Wait, what does this have to do with me and Bucky and his girlfriend?" The last part comes out just above a whisper, realizing what they’re trying to say.They must hear the worry in your voice, because they all step closer to you. Placing their hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t mean...” The next words don’t leave your mouth, you can’t bring yourself to say it. Luckily you don’t have to.

"We were going to just ignore what we overheard... that was before we heard the woman speak..." Nat stops, the words disappearing from her mouth. She can't seem bring herself to say the nasty part either.

"Y/N, It was Bucky's girlfriend." To your surprise it’s Wanda who speaks this time.

"We think she's using James for his money. We don't have any solid proof. But from their conversation her intentions seem pretty clear.” Peggy adds, you look into her bright brown eyes. You don’t miss the hint of pity or sadness in them, though you pretend you did. You look at your friends, the shock and fear evident on your face. You don’t bother hiding your emotions, you’re comfortable enough around them to be yourself.

“W-what?” Your voice comes out barely a whisper. You aren’t sure what to do, heck, you can barely process what they just told you. You can only think of one thing, of one person. I have to tell him. Plays over and over in you mind before you speak.

“I have to tell him, I have to tell Bucky.” this time your voice and eyes are full of determination.

Part 7

Tag List: @justreadingfics @soopranatural @invisibleanonymousmonsters @bloodyproudpotterhead @marvelsbangtan @void-imaginations @ladifreakingda @the-canary @taliarosej00 

[probably-writing-x]

Had Enough (ii)

Request : Gosh I love everything you write! 😍 Can I request a part 2 for Had Enough (Haz x Reader), only if you do sequels. It's your choice ofcourse... I loved the fic very much and actually all of your fics..! 😍😍😍

~~~

The next few weeks had been witness to a strange turn of events. Harrison had become oddly silent with you and you couldn't remember the last time either of you had snapped at each other. Was this how it was going to be now?

Nothing had happened that day but it may as well have. Harrison was treating you like you were some kind of one night stand that he didn't want to be around.

"Hey (Y/n)!" Tom calls as you walk into their house, "Big day today!"

"Tell me about it," You sigh, "I've already had three calls from Sony and another from Marvel it's crazy!"

Today was the day Tom was doing some pre-interviews for the release of Far From Home, a highly anticipated film that he was immensely proud of and so wanted today to go perfectly.

"Alright, here," You hand him over an extensive handwritten list, "Is a list of everything you can't say,"

Tom laughs and scans across the writing, nodding and making a mental note at each one, "Absolutely nothing about Endgame?!"

"Their words not mine," You comment, raising your hands defensively.

You busy yourself with filling up a water bottle for Tom, knowing he would always complain about his parched state as the interviews went on.

"How many are there today?" Tom asks, leaning against the kitchen counter opposite you.

"They still haven't confirmed how many," Harrison pipes up as he walks in from the bedroom.

"Which usually means there's a lot," You scoff, stuffing some snacks for Tom into your bag as well - you were sure you treated him like a child sometimes but it was always within valid reason.

Harrison dismisses your comment completely, turning to Tom instead, "They said they'll contact me when they know anything more, shouldn't be bad,"

"I was joking," You mumble, horribly intimidated by his presence despite how much you'd changed before.

"Oh, shit, I need to call my Dad," Tom exclaims, pulling out his phone and hurrying out into the garden to call Dom.

The silence that settles between you and H is sickeningly different from that day in the bedroom.

He walks around behind you and reaches up to get a glass, opening the fridge to find himself a drink.

"Can you pass me that diet coke please?" You ask him politely, despite your lack of desire to actually have a drink - you wanted anything to start some conversation.

He ignores you completely but picks it up and sticks it out behind him for you to take.

"Thank-" You stop yourself as he stands back up and walks away to the other side of the kitchen.

He wouldn't even look at you.

"Harrison what's going on?" You sigh, setting down the can and looking at him like your eyss would force his to focus on you.

"We need to go," He states simply, walking back round to your side to reach for Tom's keys.

"Haz, stop!" You exclaim, holding his forearm to keep him from moving. Now, he was against the kitchen counter and you had cornered him, "Why are you acting like this?"

He looks down and you notice a smirk tickle his lips, "You don't get it do you?"

The look on your face gives him his answer.

"That day wasn't just a peace-making exercise for me. It wasn't a way for us to be civil and move on," He shakes his head and it's confusing you even more, "It's not as easy as that for me (Y/n)!"

The sound of the back door slamming shut breaks you from this tension, "Ready to go?" Tom asks before realising he'd probably just interrupted something he shouldn't have done.

"Yeah, let's go," Haz nods and shifts himself away from you, disappearing as he had been doing for the last weeks.

~~~

Tom's interviews were all going well and you and Harrison had sat in silence to watch all of them since it had started - not exchanging one word between the two of you.

"Alright we're going to go into the other room for a while Mr Holland," Someone unknown explains, "You two are welcome to stay here,"

Before either of you can retort, the team usher Tom out and the door closes behind them.

"Great," Harrison mutters all too audibly under his breath.

You glance at him and roll your eyes, "Come on, Osterfield," You encourage, taking a seat in the chair that the interviewers had been moving in and out of.

He looks at you with a deep frown, "What are you doing (Y/l/n)?"

"Sit down," You state simply, sitting back in the chair and clasping your hands together while you wait for him.

Reluctantly, Harrison stands up and makes his way over, flopping down into the chair that Tom had previously been in.

"Alright, you can ask the first question," You say, your heart beating a little faster.

"How are your parents?"

You look down at your feet, "It's not looking hopeful. I think my mum's realising she never really felt like she should've done for my dad, even at their best,"

Harrison takes a deep breath, "Your question,"

"Why didn't you come to dinner last night?" You wanted to start simply, ease into the interrogation.

"Because I wasn't feeling well," He clenches his jaw when he lies, "And I didn't want to spend the evening acting like things were normal,"

You cock a brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"My question," He retorts, "What did you think about that day Tom locked us together?"

"I hated it at first. And then I realised that there's a lot more to you than you want to people to know, it was a good day and it made me completely forget everything else," You pause, "And then you started treating me like a one-night-stand and cut things all together so I'm back to hating it,"

"I didn't treat you like that!" He snaps, "I would never,"

"Then what's this all been then?" You finally question, the lump in your throat making talking just a little too hard.

"That day, it was finally a chance for me to act like I want to around you. To understand you and how that crazy mind works and what makes your heart race and-" He stops himself, "And I've been acting like this because I know you don't feel the same,"

"Why would you think that?" You shuffle your chair a bit closer and he does too, your knees only inches from each other now.

"Because you're you. And you're driven and hard working and I'm just the guy that gives you a hard time for it. I'm the guy that got scared he could actually feel that way for a girl so got out of it the only way he knew how," Harrison admits and pushes himself close enough for his knees to bump against yours.

"You're the guy that infuriates me," You chuckle, leaning close to him and lifting his hand, "But you want to know what makes my heart beat a bit faster?" When you press his hand to your chest, you know he can feel the racing pressure of your heart beat.

He swallows the lump in his throat and you watch the way it jolts his Adam's apple.

"Who do you think I was talking about when I spoke to my mum?" Your voice is low now like it's something you dread having to admit - your block for vulnerability shattering before you.

Harrison's hand moves from your chest and in less than a second, he's pulling your face toward his to trap your lips in a kiss he'd been craving for far too long. It is sweet but with the pressure to tell you he really means it.

When you pull away, you didn't realise how breathless you would be - your chest rising and falling in time with his.

"I've had enough of pretending (Y/n)," His voice is low and his lips a little plumper from the contact - it makes your heart race even more.

~~~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland

[writingsofspn]

Let Me Help You - Part 2, Draco Malfoy x Reader

Draco finds out that you’re in an arranged marriage and desperately tries to help you.

Part 1

Y/N = Your Name

Y/L/N = Your Last Name

this fic is gender neutral:)

——————————

You woke up to sound of mugs clinking in your kitchen. You turned in bed and snuggled further into your pillow, the events of last night sinking in and a smile forming on your face as you remembered how at ease you felt as Draco held you. You got out of bed, putting a robe on. You walked into your kitchen to see Draco setting your coffee machine to go. You saw eggs being cooked in a pan, a spoon enchanted to stir them. Bacon was magically turning on your grill, and there stood Draco himself; still in his clothes from last night.

“Hi.” You said quietly, startling him as he whipped around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No. No. It’s okay Y/N. Don’t worry, I was um...just making some breakfast. Thought you might be hungry, I noticed you didn’t eat much last night.” He replied, handing you a mug of coffee. You blushed at the fact that he’d noticed that small detail. You took the mug and went to sit down at your countertop. You watched him ‘cook,’ his face concentrated as he made sure the eggs didn’t burn. You felt something in the pit of your stomach as you watched him, feeling warm as you held the coffee in between your hands.

“Y/N, do you want sauce?” Draco asked, your plate in his hand as the other reached toward your cupboard.

“Um...no. No thanks. Thank you.” You started, taking the plate from him. He smiled and turned around to grab his own plate.

————————

“How dare you get Lucius Malfoy’s son involved in this Y/N. Do you know how hard I worked to get his respect? And now you’ve let all of that work crumble just because you don’t know what’s good for you.” Your father shouted at you, slamming his hands on his desk.

“But father, you need to understand. I don’t want to do this, please. I don’t want to marry a man whose 25 years older than me, I don’t want to marry a man whom I don’t love. Please, let me choose the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Please! You don’t understand, I can’t do this.” You countered, standing closer to his desk. Your father rounded it, coming to stand face to face with you.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, you little wretch. You don’t appreciate the things I do for you, like sending you to that god-awful school.”

He started, before you interrupted him.

“Don’t you dare speak ill of Hogwarts. Ever. You stupid, old man. You’re so old fashioned that you can’t see past your evil ways. The way you expect me to marry someone I don’t love or barely know is disgusting. I..-” You were stopped as your father sent a hand across your face. His slap stung as you brought a hand to your cheek. You stumbled backwards.

“The fact you just spoke to me like that makes me feel sick to my stomach. My own child? Calling me names? You’re lucky I don’t shun you here and now. Get out of my office, now! I don’t want to see you until the rehearsal. I expect to see you there, at 8am sharp; a smile on your face and looking excited at the fact that you’re about to secure the rest of your damn life.” You father snarled, grabbing you roughly by the arm and shoving you out of his office. You stood, dumbfounded as you stared at his large office door. His rough touch was nothing new to you, his mishandling a frequent punishment for bad behaviour in your home.

You ran through the front door and into your car, quickly driving home to get as far away as possible from your father. As you were driving home, you swore you saw a familiar car shooting past. You shrugged it off, going home to attempt to forget what just happened.

————————

Draco drove to your father’s house, not knowing what he was going to say to him; he only knew what he was going to ask. He pulled up at your house, walking to your front door and using the brass knocker that laid in the centre. A few seconds passed before your father opened the door.

“Ah Draco, my boy. How good to see you.” He embraced him, Draco remaining stiff. He beckoned for him to follow him inside and took him to his office. He sat down, Draco opposite.

“Sir, I’ve actually come here to talk about the arrange-”

“Oh. You’ve come to talk about that, have you? Listen my boy, Y/N has gotten into your head and I’m sure they’re not telling you everything. It’s an arranged marriage, yes. But, the man is a fine one. He has plenty of money, a stable job, a home. Y/N is set up there. All they need to do is cook for him, you know? Maybe provide a little pleasure, if you know what I mean.” He winked, and Draco felt his skin crawl at his words. He gripped the arms of the chair so tight that his knuckles went white.

“Sir. I’m going to say this plainly. What you’re doing is disgusting. Marrying your own child off to a man who’s twice their age, and whom they don’t even love. You’re aware that their marriage isn’t your decision, right? Just because you’re their father doesn’t give you the right to decide who they’re going to spend the rest of their life with. You’re aware how important love is in a relationship, are you not? You were married once. Could you imagine marrying a women who you didn’t know nor didn’t love? That is exactly what you’re doing to Y/N and it’s awful. The fact that you think it’s okay to do this doesn’t even give you the right to call yourself their father.” He started to speak but Draco held his hand up to stop him, talking over him. “And I’ll tell you something, sir. Y/N won’t be marrying this man. And you know why? Because they’ll be marrying me. That’s right. I’m not speaking on Y/N’s behalf, of course, but I plan to ask Y/N’s hand in marriage in the future, because I love them. So, you can tell ‘Robert’ to shove this wedding up his arse and that he certainly isn’t going to get Y/N.” Draco stood up, straightening his jacket. He stared at your father who looked down at his hands in shock and shame. Draco watched him and sighed.

“That’s what I thought.” Draco concluded, walking to the door.

“Draco! Wait.” You father stood up, coming to the front of his desk. “Make Y/N happy.” He said quietly, looking down at the floor.

“I will sir, you can count on that.” He replied, leaving your father in the study. Heading back to his car, he smiled at the thought of telling you the news.

———————

The doorbell rang and you got up from your seat to answer it. You’d been sitting watching muggle tv for the past few hours, not really wanting to do anything. You, quite frankly, wanted to tell whoever it was at the door to piss off. You undid the latch and swung the door open.

“Hey look, I’m sorry but I can’t really-” You were cut off when you saw Draco standing there. He looked so pleased, and something akin to hope bloomed inside you.

“Y/N. I wanted...erm...needed to tell you that you no longer have to worry about your marital status in the near future. Your freedom has been returned to you and I hope that your father no longer bothers you about anything such as this. Him and I had a nice chat this afternoon and I think I made it quite clear that neither you nor I were fans of the situation and he appeared to grasp the message.” Draco said, twiddling his fingers together as he spoke. You stared at him in complete shock. You put a hand to your mouth as you felt your eyes beginning to water.

“Oh my gosh, Draco. I can’t believe - have you really? Are you sure? My father can’t…can’t have been persuaded that easily. Oh my god.” You lurched forward into his arms, wrapping your own right around his shoulders.

“Thank you so much. Thank you so much.” You repeated, crying into his chest. “You have no idea how...how relieved I feel. I can’t believe…” You trailed off, pulling away and tugging him into your apartment.

“It’s fine, really. It wasn’t a bother, I...I was glad to help you. What was happening was awful and I couldn’t bear to see you like that.” Draco murmured, dumbstruck at how beautiful you looked now that your happiness had returned. Your smile was radiating, infectious even. In his eyes, you practically glowed.

“What did you do to persuade him Draco? I’ve been trying to for months.” You asked him, moving a bit closer. There was a long pause as he contemplated telling you the real answer as to why your father had called off the marriage.

“I...um...I told him you were going to marry someone else.” He said, anxiously awaiting your reaction. This could all go pear-shaped if you didn’t like him back that way. He felt his stomach swirl with butterflies as he awaited you to speak.

“What do you mean I’m marrying someone else? I’m not even seeing anyone, let alone marrying them. He’s sure to notice.” You worried, Draco’s excuse filling you with dread.

“Um...I’d like to think that you are...one day, Y/N.” Draco said, moving closer to you.

“What?” You said, confused. Draco knelt down in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Don’t worry I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m asking if you’ll go on a date with me. And then maybe another one. And then another one. And a million more after that. I’m asking if you want to go out with me, be by my side, put up with my snoring and constant fidgeting in bed. I’m asking if you want to, perhaps, make a home together; if you want to love me when I need it most. I’m not asking you to marry me, but maybe one day I will. All I’m asking right now, is that Y/N, Would you accept my love in return for yours? Would you give me a chance to show you that you’re the most special, kind and beautiful person on this planet by accepting my invitation to a date?” He asked, breathless. His heart beat in anticipation at your answer. He’d put himself out there and he prayed that he wouldn’t be shot down.

“I’d love to. Yes, I’d love to. My love is all yours Draco. A date is perfect, and one day, when that marriage proposal comes; I’ll say yes because I’ll always remember that I got to choose you. You were ‘my’ choice. I got you all by myself, and I’ll get to spend with rest of my life with someone I love, and who cares for me. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I always will.” You knelt down to where he was still stood on one knee and put your hands around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around the small of your back. You remained on the floor, lips together as you completely forgot about the world around you.

After a few minutes, you both pulled away and you rested your forehead against his, smiling.

“So, how about that date?”

——————————

@sleeplessnightsgirl :)

[kyulkyungs]

reverse-idol!jaemin | pt. 2

Requests:

can you do part2 of reverse idol jaemin pleaseee djabsnaja - @estrellajaemin

omg your reverse!idol with jaemin was so cute !! 😤💞 could you do a part two, please? - anon

Jaemin reverse idol! Part 2? - anon 2

Hi, hello~ I love-love-love your reversed idol au for Jaemin (my bby doesn’t have too many imagines...) and I was wondering if you could make a part like the others, if not then thank you anyways~! - anon 3

(part 1 found here!)

others: doyoung (part 2) | jaehyun (part 2) | haechan (part 2) | renjun | jisung

tbh jaemin never really saw you in person for a while since the school visit you did

he was all caught up on vlives and news info your group had from time to time

but there wasn’t much else going on other than music shows and the occasional appearance from you on the vlive itself

your members basically called you out saying you were shy and didn’t really like being on camera by yourself and everyone exploded because

wow you are a hardcore stage presence up there but backstage??? the fluffiest softest blushiest person who is stuttering a thanks to a staff member giving you a water bottle

the members caught that on film and now the whole world knows

or at least those who didn’t really know that much at least

but jaemin was like sEE!! I TOLD YOU THEY WERE SWEET AND CUTE AND FLUFFY!!!!! to everyone else

and he totally can’t forget that shy smile you showed him when seeing he was the most enthusiastic to see you... just you

he hasn’t actually seen you guys live since he’s a broke high school kid als;dnglksfng :(

he helps out his neighbors from time to time for some extra money though and usually buys some merch sometimes

has one of the first light sticks made and it’s even been signed by you guys on the handle of it since he bought it off one of his pals who wanted to trade for three of his photocards

he treasures this relic and absolutely adores it

he even notices that everyone’s signature has changed over time and there are certain things that are different

he even loves the little heart you never fail to doodle next to your name and it makes him so happy because wow you’re really cute

one of the loving fans who loves your shy side off stage along with your epic persona on stage

he gets a little upset inside when he finds that fans only see you as a cool and confident person and just that like he wants them to know that they only see the surface and what the company wants them to see?

screw you companies

but he adores your quiet side and your peeking into the cameras occasionally backstage

and the goofing off in front of the cameras with your members as if there is no camera in the first place

when comes the time where the managers wanted your group to be doing solo vlives, he knew that you were probably dreading that moment

and you were

because you wouldn’t have anyone to do the talking for you or to talk with you, or to just give the gif makers moments to gif by staring at the camera and making some faces or staring at the member with you

he wanted to see how’d you do and was prepared to spam hearts and comment a whole bunch of supportive comments

you can bet he tried to get so many of his followers and pals to signal boost his post telling everyone to support ‘his shy bb’

you didn’t know any of this until the day before your supposed vlive schedule was one of the members bringing up a bunch of posts about everyone loving you regardless of your shyness

granted there were those fans who didn’t even realize your shyness or were like ?soft stans just being soft stans where is the cute?

but regardless everyone was sending you support

which made you much more confident and ready to do your vlive

unlike the other members............. who all did their vlives in the dorms, on their bed, or in the practice rooms and walking around the building and being surrounded by familiar faces

this was when you were doing an errand for the group

you were completely fine with this until you realized that oops you had a vlive to do and this is probably why your manager insisted that you take the weird selfie stick with you

you were going to be doing a vlive in  p u b l i c oh golly you were NOT ready because not only were you out there by yourself but you’re just walking around talking to a phone on a stick that’s a foot or so away from you

okay, you weren’t going that far so someone has seen you around the area a bunch of times and you were only going a block away

so halfway to some shop for snacks you were fiddling around with the stick and the phone and you were seriously hesitating on pressing any of the buttons to start it up

because what if people look at you oh gOSH! YOU NEED SOMEONE WITH YOU!!! WHERE’S THE LEADER??? THEY KNOW WHAT TO DO THAT”S RIGHT THEY’RE STILL MAD AT YOU PHOTOBOMBING THEIR SELFIE SHOT FOR INSTAGRAM THAT MORNING OHHHHH SNAP

and that’s when you realize that you didn’t put the phone in properly and it might fall out if you don’t fix it

so you’re fiddling even more with the phone and stick and your shaky hands are being such a nuisance to you because the phone just 

will. not .go. in. its. place!!!!!

until somebody takes their hands over yours and guides them to put your phone into place properly

and you look up thinking it’s some creep but no??? it’s..... a cutie

who you recognize as the guy who was so happy to see you when you did your school visits and at first you’re like how is he here?

and you remember that in order to do the school visits you guys had to go to places nearby and at most you guys covered three high schools, two middle schools, and a kindergarten

so those schools aren’t really that far away, at most maybe an hour or two

and when he sees that you remember him he gets so excited and happy and starts to jump around a little bit like

!!!! HI!!! i know you and!!! you know me, right??

he’s just a happy kid and you let him do his thing because you don’t really know how to tell him to stop and plus

you don’t really want to?

he finally realizes that he’s still holding your hands and doesn’t pull away that quickly because he’s afraid of knocking the phone out and breaking it

but his touch lingers and you find that it’s warm and very...

comforting

he smiles and is like

‘my name is jaemin!! you’re my favorite!’ this sudden burst out makes you jump but it also makes your heart jump? not in shock or fear but like

it’s fluttering so wildly inside.........

and then he’s watching you and taking in your features like !!!IT’s reaLLy yOu!!!

but then he also realizes that you’re also setting up for your vlive and instead of being super jumpy and excited he just gets super calm and nice and he smiles warmly at you

and that smile being directed at you, just you, makes your cheeks warm and a small smile peek up on your own

now jaemin may look calm on the outside but listen he’s screaming

but he manages to keep his nerves on check and says ‘hey, no matter what, nobody with judge you for anything. nobody is always going to be watching. if they are, it’s because of your stunning radiance.’

and his words strike a powerful cord inside of you because he’s..... right there’s not a lot of people out here and even still nobody bats an eye that you’re carrying around a selfie stick still

before you say anything else, jaemin holds up his phone like ‘beSIDES THEY’LL BE WATCHING ME SO GO AHEAD AND DO WHATEVER, I’LL COVER FOR YOU’

and then he runs off and is prancing and jumping around like nonsense and now the very few people still out at the moment are all watching him look at his phone and jump and squeal and you’re about to laugh because

he’s super dorky looking and this is honestly so cute

you may or may nor have snapped a picture or two, just for later

and then you start your vlive

and you’re calm and confident and you deliver just enough to please the viewers and make your members and managers proud of you, but also still show your signature shyness and cute smiles

jaemin is now squealing because of you on the vlive instead of just randomly, but he was also squealing because of you earlier

and then you start talking about how you were going to pick up some snacks for the members and on the way you were having troubles starting it up because you were so shy

and you can see a certain comment from a certain someone, don’t ask, you just know

it’s telling you that you’re strong and beautiful and have all the support

and this leads to a whole bunch of other supportive comments and now you’re being flooded and it’s been maybe ten minutes into the cast

as you walk you talk about a ‘really nice person’ who helped you get the phone set up because you were having troubles

jaemin tries not to scream too loudly about it to his friends because in actuality, you said a ‘really nice friend’

and oh boy was this the beginning

[butsomeofusarelookingatthestars]

Classified: Part 12

Luke is still adjusting to life in the BAU when a familiar face from the past joins the team as their Communications Liaison. Last time he saw her they were in the Iraqi desert on a highly confidential mission. Some ghosts are meant to stay buried…

Masterlist (x)

Gosh I know you’ll all hate me, but I loved writing this chapter. It’s something brand new for me and all your lovely comments and feedback have meant the world. Please forgive me!

It was all a blur as the figures rushed into the room, shots cracking as they exchanged fire with the startled henchmen. You didn’t wait to witness Michael’s reaction, quickly rolling out of the way as you crouched behind the safety of stone wall.

Your heart leapt hopefully as your eyes fell upon the dark vests with the familiar white lettering emblazoned on them. FBI. It felt as if you were finally home.  

Omar was rushing away from the scene, acting like the coward he always had been. Your legs twitched as if to give chase, but you saw the blonde hair of JJ fly past as she tracked him down, Matt and Reid swiftly following in her footsteps. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you realised that they had this in hand.

They would get him.

Before you had the chance to enjoy your brief moment of reprieve, a heavy weight slammed into your head. Clearly, Michael wasn’t ready to give up without a fight. But, with the arrival of your colleagues a fire of defiance had ignited inside of you.

A loud grunt ripped through Michael’s throat as you spun around to land a well-aimed punch to his face. He doubled-over in agony clutching his ribs as you managed to knock him the floor. But, a deafening bang caught your attention, temporarily distracting you from Michael.

Prentiss had only just missed a bullet, the shot grazing her arm as she leapt behind one of the walls.

The breath hitched in your throat as you saw her quickly recover her composure, readjusting her aim as she fired in retaliation. The narrow escape made you realise just how much danger your friends were in…thanks to you.

A scream of agony ripped from your lips as you were suddenly sent crashing to the floor. The sneering face of Michael greeted you as he loomed menacingly over your broken body. Everyone else was too preoccupied fighting their own battles to notice what was going on. Terror flooded through you as you realised the gun barrel pointed at your head.

“I’ve waited a long time for this you-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his insult, the bang echoing through the air as a bullet flew into his forearm. You flinched as his gun clattered on the floor next to you, bodies hurtling past as Luke tossed him angrily against the stone wall.

“Greenwood, it was you along.” Luke snarled furiously, launching a powerful punch into Michael’s face as the traitor tried to squirm free from his grasp. “You betrayed us.”

A snicker escaped Michael’s lips as he glanced over at your injured form, his eyes darkening menacingly as he examined you clutching your side in pain. You froze in horror as Luke’s gaze followed them, his brown eyes unreadable as they fell upon your bloodied and beaten body.

“She put up a good fight, didn’t you Y/N?” Michael mocked cruelly, his eyes drifting towards your exposed skin and a smirk creeping onto his lips.

You spluttered violently as you attempted to snap a retort back, the smug grin on his face and the sinister hunger in his eyes making you feel physical revulsion. However, the feeble effort only made him laugh harder.

“It’s a shame you didn’t last longer. I would have liked to-”

The rest of his words were lost as Luke’s outrage spilled out into punches, the cracking of his knuckles against Michael’s bones causing you to grimace. The fury in Luke’s expression was truly terrifying. You had never seen him like this, not in all the years you had known each other.

But, it was as if he were a man possessed as he continued to pummel Michael against the wall…and you couldn’t stand it.

“Luke…” You croaked, your voice straining under the pressure. But, he didn’t hear you. He was too far gone. “Luke, please…” You coughed, wheezing slightly as an agonising burn shot through your ribs. “Don’t do this…”

Perhaps it was the pleading tone of your voice or the fact that his hands were bleeding with exertion, but either way Luke halted his punches. He tensed under your touch as you rested a hand on his forearm, gently urging him away from the collapsed traitor.

“Let him go. He’s not worth it.” You murmured softly, your heart thundering nervously as the familiar warmth of Luke’s brown eyes locked with your own. “This isn’t you.”

An almost peaceful silence filled the atmosphere as the rest of the world faded away. In that moment, it was only you and Luke. You had to say it.

“Luke I-”

However, the long-awaited words were suddenly interrupted by a deafening bang echoing through the air.

A gasp fell from your lips as your hands drifted down to your stomach, a confused frown spreading across your face as you felt the sticky substance seeping out. Your vision blurred as you lifted your hands, the crimson liquid coating your fingers causing you to groan in confusion.

“Y/N?”

The panicked tone of Luke’s voice sent a shiver of horror through your body. Never had you heard him sound so terrified. Not during all those nerve-wracking moments in Iraq, not even when you had been facing down a bomb together. He had always been the strong one. A source of strength and guidance.

To see him broken was unbearable.

“Luke...” You whispered, stunned by the paralysing sensation beginning to creep up your spine. “I-”

But, your words faded from your lips as you tumbled forwards into Luke’s arms, all the strength evaporating from your body as the shock consumed you entirely. A freezing cold engulfed the air as your breath came in ragged breaths, your hand shaking as Luke’s gripped yours protectively.

It was almost as if he thought he could force you to cling onto life, his fingers tightly entwined with yours as his terror-filled eyes gazed at the pool of blood seeping across the floor.

You didn’t even hear his piercing scream as he shrieked for help. Nor could you see Michael’s smug smirk as Prentiss and Tara wrestled him to the floor, the offending gun flying from his hands. All you could manage was to lock Luke’s brown eyes with yours, struggling to raise a hand to gently caress his face.

“Luke, I…” Blood trickled from the corner of your mouth as you spluttered on your own breath. “You…”

He shushed you gently, shaking his head as his free hand attempted to staunch the heavy bleeding from your abdomen. But, it was hopeless. A strangled sob escaped your lips as you glanced down at Luke’s crimson-stained hands.

“It’s okay.” His soft murmur more like a prayer than a reassurance. “You’re going to be okay.”

But, his own eyes betrayed the truth. The terror glistening inside their usual warm brown depths filling you with dread. It was bad.

“Welcome to the Sandbox Agent Y/L/N.” “You aren’t what I was expecting.” “Do you have a thing for the new girl…newbie?” “Ranger up Alvez.” “Luke, I can do this.” “I can help others.” “You survived. You’re here.” “Y/N, you could have been killed.” “I need to speak to you.”

All of the military tents, tanks, weapons and horrifically imposing compound walls couldn’t detract from the unique beauty of the desert landscape. The sky glittered with glorious beams of red, orange and yellow as the sun set behind the sandy hills.

He didn’t say a word as he stood silently beside you, only slowly lifting his hand to trace the outline of your lips. His eyes shone with intensity as you eagerly leant into his touch.

“You’ve always been like that.” “Like what?” “Hopeful.”

Luke shook his head firmly, his eyes stinging painfully as tears began to blur his vision. The memories were too much. They couldn’t be all he had left of you.

“Y/N… please don’t leave me.” He choked out, his voice breaking as his eyes locked with yours in a silent plea. “Not now.”

His fell silent as an agonised splutter ripped through your throat, his hand reaching up to tenderly cup your cheek.

“I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You desperately wanted to reply to his confession, to scream that you felt the same. But, the words couldn’t escape your lips, the world fading to black as your eyes finally fluttered shut.

Luke couldn’t hear anything. There was an eerie silence engulfing the air as he held his head in his hands, the crimson blood staining his skin as the sirens blared noisily, their lights illuminating the dark night sky.

Everything was out of focus. Nothing made sense. Nothing could make sense…not without you.

“Luke.”

Prentiss’ firm voice somehow managed to reach him through his daze. Perhaps a part of him had tricked himself into believing it was you calling out for him. Either way, he felt his body collapse under her comforting touch as she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

He could barely hear her soothing words. The only thing he knew was the terrible truth.

“I’ve lost her.”

TAG LIST:

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[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

The Way I Do: Chapter 1

Summary: You, Natalia, Pietro, and Wanda accompany high chief Nick Fritigern and a few other leaders (including your father) to the Roman capital of Byzantium to ask for asylum from their Emperor, Augustus Pierce. You explore the city, but run into trouble almost immediately only to be saved by a mysterious man. Warnings: None as of yet Word Count: ~4,232 A/N: For @killmongerdreams‘ song roulette writing challenge.

Masterlist // Prologue // Next Chapter

Chief Nick nodded. “Well put. See to it you study well. It may save your life. You’ll need to be able to pass this information on to others as well. I won’t have us walking into the Roman empire blind.”

At this, all three of you nodded in agreement. “We will, sir.” Even Pietro nodded diligently.

“Good. The delegation leaves for Byzantium in three days. And you’re all coming with me.”

Wanda blanched and even Pietro looked a little taken aback, though he recovered quickly. Natalia looked grave and you… you felt anxiety and anger course through your veins in equal measure.

“As you say, sir.”

The next two days saw you, Pietro, and Wanda cooped up in your house being tutored mercilessly by Natalia. You knew a little of Roman culture, and what you did know didn’t endear them to you in the least. As it turned out, learning about their society didn’t really paint them in a better light in your eyes. They were still as despicable as before, except now you knew the many layers of despicable.

The third day was spent packing, although Natalia still somehow found room to school the three of you on marriage customs.

“Cum manu,” Natalia said, popping into the doorway of your room. You jumped at her sudden appearance and turned to glare at her, but she only stared at you expectantly.

You sighed. “When the wife is placed under legal control of the husband in marriage.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sine manu?”

You crossed your arms and stared at her. “When the wife is still under legal control of her father even after marriage.”

She shot you a satisfied smile and scampered away, likely going to grill Wanda or Pietro next.

You didn’t see her again until all of your things were loaded on the wagon and you’d already finished putting the cart harness on your horse.

“Plebeians!” she said, head popping up over your horse’s back. You jumped and so did your horse and you glared at the redhead.

“Stop doing that!” you chastised. “You’re going to give Holden a heart attack. He’s too old for your shenanigans.”

Natalia looked contrite and patted the old horse affectionately. “Sorry, old boy. I didn’t mean it,” she said fondly as she picked at the knots in his mane.

You rolled your eyes at her fussing. “Plebeians are people who live in the Roman Empire but don’t have citizenship. By Roman legal perspective, they don’t exist. They have no rights. To work, they must sign away their lives and everything they own would henceforth be owned by the family that signed them.”

Natalia nodded, giving you a smile before she scampered off again.

“We’re leaving soon, you know! Have you even packed yet?” you called after her.

She merely waved off your concerns and you sighed in exasperation. To your dismay you saw that she’d managed to weave at least five braids into his mane in the short amount of time she’d been standing there. You groaned and set to work on undoing them before they became dreads.

The loud whinny from Holden clued you into the approaching person before the sound of hooves did. You looked up from your bag, head swiveling in search of the newcomer.

You grinned when you spotted Clinton turn down the road, his old plow horse Darius following dutifully behind him. That horse loved him so much he didn’t even need a lead.

The moment Darius heard Holden’s cry, he returned it, earning a chuckle from Clinton. “Go get him, then,” Clinton said, waving the old gelding on. He immediately trotted over to the two of you, and Holden met him halfway.

You smiled at Clinton as he walked over, chuckling as the two old men immediately began grooming each other. “It’s like they never see each other,” you said by way of greeting.

“It’s been at least a week,” Clinton joked, earning a soft chuckle from you. “I trust Natalia’s been teaching you about Roman culture?” he asked, just a hint of his fatherly tone sneaking in. Having a wife and kids had really changed him and you sometimes felt like you were one of his own kids, although you were certainly too old to be one.

You sighed and nodded. “She’s taught us everything but the language. We’re to learn as much as we can on the way over.”

Clinton nodded knowingly. “She was always better with Latin than I was. Dunno where she learned all of it. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Natalia’s always been a quick study. Absorbs information like a sponge.”

You glanced at him. You’d forgotten he’d fought in the war, too. Natalia had this dangerous air about her that never really allowed you to forget she could snap your neck in an instant, but Clinton was unassuming in that he only appeared to be a happily married father of three.

It was sometimes easy to forget that he could shoot you in the eye from a hundred yards or more.

“Wanda reminds me a lot of her. She’s grown up to be such a nice, intelligent young woman,” you said with a smile.

Clinton, however, groaned. “Oh please don’t tell me Fritigern’s dragging the twins along.”

You laughed out loud, having nearly forgotten about the playfully antagonistic relationship between Clinton and Pietro. “Oh, they’re coming with us, all right.”

As if on cue, Pietro appeared beside you. “Grandpa Clinton! Nice to see your old joints let you out of bed today,” he said mischievously, devilish grin on his face.

You stifled a chuckle behind your hand. When Clinton put on a matching smirk, you knew you were in for more than you’d bargained for. “It was a little tough to get out of bed today, actually. My wife always gives me very enthusiastic, amorous goodbyes,” he said suggestively.

“Oh gosh!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands over your ears. You didn’t need to hear this. Not from your brothers.

“What are you talking about? I loved many women last night and I’m just fine,” Pietro said with a smirk. “Seems like you’re just getting old, Clint.”

Clinton, however, only smiled victoriously. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that lovemaking isn’t a race, Piet? No wonder none of the women in town want to marry you.”

Pietro opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Please, please, please stop this conversation right now. I can’t take it,” you said despairingly. No matter how hard you mashed your hands to your ears, you heard their words anyway.

Clint and Pietro took one look at your face and dissolved into laughter. You glared at the both of them and smacked them on their forearms. They kept laughing, however, and a moment or so later you joined them.

Natalia and Wanda joined you a few minutes later, closely followed by Chief Nick Fritigern, your father, and two other village leaders.

Not fifteen minutes later you were on the road. Clint drove the carriage while you, Pietro, Natalia, and Wanda studied in the back, smashed in with all of the luggage and food. The chief and the other leaders rode on their best horses, Fritigern up front and center.

The trip to Byzantium took days and by the time you arrived in the capital you fiercely missed sleeping indoors. The river crossing had been particularly grueling, but all of you, your horses, and your equipment made it through it unscathed. The countryside passed slowly and you only stopped for a short while in each village you passed. The locals were surprised to see “barbarians” down this far southeast, but seemed eager to trade with you anyway. The kids (especially the young boys) seemed enamored by your group. You supposed they’d probably never seen your clan’s clothing before. You probably looked as strangely dressed to them as they did to you.

The closer to the sea you traveled the warmer it got and you eventually found yourself shrugging out of your furs. It felt wrong to be without that layer, yet it was freeing in a way.

When the capital finally rolled into sight, you couldn’t help but stare. Even from this far away, the buildings looked huge. They were red clay and brick and stone and looked far larger than anything your tribe had ever built. Wanda and Pietro stared at it, heads peeking around Clinton who merely chuckled at their star-struck expressions. The road sloped gently downward towards the city and from this high up you had a stunning view of the sea which glimmered like many-faceted jewels in the sunlight.

You turned to Natalia and pointed to the sprawling city barely a mile down the road. “That... that’s Byzantium?” you said, hardly daring to believe your eyes. Surely thousands of people lived there. How did humans ever create such a marvel?

Natalia smiled and nodded with a chuckle. “Rome is just as beautiful. Perhaps we can visit there later, if all goes according to plan today?” she said, mischief sparking in her eyes.

You turned to stare at the city, eyes wide with childlike wonderment. “I can’t even imagine another city like this... It’s amazing that there’s even one...” you whispered. Beside you, Wanda nodded in agreement. Even Pietro nodded for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to hate the place. He tried to scowl determinedly, but it kept slipping off his face when he saw something new and interesting as you neared the city gates. Natalia stifled a laugh in her palm at his rapidly changing facial expressions and even you had to tear your eyes away from the quickly increasing number of buildings to smile at him.

Eventually the tall city gates loomed in front of you. A couple of city guards glared at you from under their heavy, feathered helmets. One stepped forward, though he nearly stumbled over his own two feet. If you weren’t mistaken, he was drunk.

“What’s your business in Byzantium, barbarians?” he slurred, sneering down his nose at you.

Just like that, the magic of the city faded, ruined by one bigoted idiot.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Nick spoke perfect Latin, but you still couldn’t help an eyebrow raise when he responded politely, valiantly ignoring the guard’s frankly offensive demeanor. “I’m Nicholas Fritigern of the Thervingi tribe of the Dniester River. We’re here to petition your Emperor. We’ve brought gifts for his majesty in the hopes that he’ll hear our pleas.”

Even though Nick sounded nothing but cordial and humble, you and everyone else from your tribe knew he was swearing in his head. Bending to another ruler, even in words, pained him greatly.

The guard scoffed. “Let’s see it, then. These ‘gifts’,” he said. It was clear he thought anything you offered wouldn’t be worthy of his Emperor.

He moved to walk towards the cart, but Nick’s hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. He narrowed his good eye at the guard and the man visibly paled. “My gifts are not for ordinary men’s eyes, soldier. Would you truly belittle your Emperor by claiming yourself as worthy as he? Are you that audacious?” he asked challengingly.

The soldier gazed up at him, slack-jawed. Nick raised an eyebrow expectantly and the man quickly shook his head so violently his helm would have come flying off if not for the chin strap.

Nick smiled (it was a predatory thing that would have frightened the man if he’d been more cognizant). “Good. Now, if you’d be so kind as to open the gates?” Fritigern said, finally releasing the man’s shoulder.

He nodded furiously and scrambled back to the gate. “Open it up! They’re clear!” he called to the men on the ramparts. One startled awake and looked around for the danger, only to let out a sigh when he realized it was his fellow guard making a nuisance of himself. They leaned over the wall, stared at their fellow guard, then at your group. They shrugged and, a second later, began turning the great wheel that controlled the metal gate. It rose slowly and after a moment Nick urged his horse onward, the rest of you following closely behind him. As you passed below the great archway, your awe from earlier returned tenfold. People bustled about on stone streets. The buildings had two floors and some had roofs and ceilings so high you had to crane your neck to see the top. Back home, your largest most opulent buildings were your churches and even then they couldn’t hold a candle to even the most basic building here. People stared at you as you passed and you knew enough Latin by now to recognize that most of what they said was not complementary. Eventually your party came to a stop in a market row.

Nick pulled his horse around and Clinton and Natalia immediately looked to him, awaiting instruction.

“Natalia, Clinton, the other leaders, and I will go the palace. I don’t know if Emperor Pierce will be willing to talk today, but I’d like to spend as little time here as possible, so we’re starting immediately. While we’re gone, I want you three-” he pointed to you, Wanda, and Pietro, “-to run the stall. Trade what you can... but do your best to collect information, too. Play the stupid barbarian card. They’ll tell you everything. People like to talk when they think they’re smarter than you,” he said. 

“Is that why you never stop talking, chief?” Natalia asked playfully.

You, Wanda, and Pietro clammed up at the jab, but Clinton was biting back a laugh. You would never talk to the chief like that, but Natalia was a special case. She was practically raised by the man.

Nick rolled his eyes as he hopped off his horse and handed Wanda the lead. “Let’s go, Romanova. You too, Barton. We have things to do.”

Natalia and Clinton hopped off the cart and you dug through the bag in the back until you found the one with the gifts for the Emperor. You hefted it over the side to Clinton’s waiting arms. He never ceased to amaze you as he shrugged it over his shoulder with ease.

“Good luck,” you told them all with a small smile, earning a smile from Natalia and Clinton and a scoff from Nick.

“You don’t need luck, (Y/N). You have me,” he said with a smirk before turning and walking towards the palace, which stood above the other buildings in both height and opulence at the top of the hill by the sea.

“Stay safe!” Natasha said with a smile before turning and jogging to catch up to Nick.

Clinton was walking away, but kept turning around to yell reminders at you. “Watch out for pickpockets! Don’t fall for scams! Oh, and stick together! Don’t get captured by slavers, we don’t have the money to buy you back!” he joked, though you knew there was a vein of seriousness in that warning.

You rolled your eyes. “Go, Clinton! Or you’re going to be left behind!” you yelled, smile on your lips.

The moment they were out of sight you turned to the twins, excited expression on your face. “I’m going exploring! Stay here, don’t get kidnapped or murdered, all right?” you said as you jumped out of the cart, startling a few citizens that had stopped to stare at the oddities in their marketplace.

“Wait, I wanted to explore! (Y/N)!” Pietro called after you, frown on his face. Wanda didn’t say anything, but you could tell she wanted to, too.

“Too slow for once, Pietro! I won’t be long, though! Make sure you tie the horses up correctly, or we’ll have to walk home!” you said cheerily over your shoulder before you disappeared around the corner.

Everywhere you went you attracted stares in your odd clothes, but you paid them almost no mind. There were statues everywhere. The stonework on buildings was so intricate you were sure you could stare at it for an hour and still find something new about it by the sixtieth minute. The streets were wide, allowing carts to pass each other with ease. There were so many people you could hardly comprehend it. How did they all live like this, packed together like peas in a pod? You supposed that it wouldn’t be that difficult if the food was brought to you.

But how did these people even get the money to buy their food? Did they make things? Create art? You supposed a lot of them had to be fishermen, judging by the copious amount of boats in the harbor.

You’d never been on a boat before and quickly added it to the list of things you wanted to do while you were here.

You rounded the corner with a huge smile, only for it to slip off your face at the sight before you.

People of all color, shapes, sex, and sizes stood on top of a raised platform, their bodies weighed down by chains. The expressions in their faces ranged from fearful to resigned to absolutely empty. They were all naked as the day they were born, greased up to make them look even more appealing to potential buyers.

You’d walked into the slave market. You watch in horror as a young boy- no older than 18- was brought forward. The slave auctioneer showed him off almost like was a prized cattle and you fought the urge to vomit.

How had you been blinded by stone and artwork? This empire of lies was where Fritigern sought aid? This place, where they sold people like pieces of meat?

You turned to run back the way you’d come, but ran smack into a wall.

You stumbled backward a step or two with a yelp, hand flying up to rub your nose and forehead tenderly. You looked up at what you’d run into, only to freeze.

Not a wall, a man.

One with a sword and dangerous, dark dead eyes that held no light.

“My my, what have we here? A little barbarian girl, all alone? Isn’t that a shame,” he murmured dangerously, taking a predatory step towards you that had you scrambling backwards. The two men next to him grinned wickedly and you suddenly knew you were in trouble.

Why hadn’t you just listened to Clinton? You should have stayed with Wanda and Pietro. Going off into a city alone was stupid. These weren’t your people. They couldn’t be trusted.

“What do you say, sweet thing? Would you like to make me a very rich man?” he asked silkily, taking another step towards you that nearly had you letting out a squeak of fear. It all became clear in an instant: This man was a slaver.

“Away!” you hissed, wishing you’d learned more Latin.

There man raised an eyebrow and the grin turned feral. “Oh, and she speaks Latin, too! Someone will pay a hefty price for a bitch like that!” He lunged for you but you’d already turned on your heel and ran. You didn’t know where you were headed, but as far as you were concerned, the only thing that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the slaver as possible.

You heard the man and his two fiendish friends running after you. “No, you idiots! This one’s mine! I love the chase!” he yelled, causing a shiver to run down your spine and your feet to pick up speed.

You tried to weave in and out of people, but you simply weren’t used to the sheer weight of this many people pressing down around you. The only thing you had going for you was that he was much larger and therefore had slightly more difficulty pushing through the crowds.

You turned a corner onto a less busy street and ran down at it, only to run face-first into a person for the second time that day. Two strong hands caught your arms, preventing you from falling straight down onto your butt.

“Whoa there, slow down! What’s the rush?” came a deep masculine voice.

You looked up and felt your breath leave you in a whoosh. Gorgeous blue-grey eyes stared down at you, and you could just barely see a glimmer of white teeth behind a sinfully attractive crooked smile.

“There you are,” came a slimy voice from behind you, snapping you out of your sudden daze.

You squeaked and hid behind the man, chest heaving as your pulse raced. “Please, help. He want hurt me,” you whispered in broken Latin, clutching at the back of the man’s shirt. He glanced over his shoulder at you, expression unreadable for a moment before he turned to glare at the other man who was stalking towards you, hardly sparing the man in front of you a glance.

“That’s far enough, cretin,” your savior said, voice low and threatening.

The man’s head swiveled, gaze locking onto the man, the smile faltering for only a moment. “My name’s Rumlow. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I saw her first. She’s mine,” he said, causing another shiver to run down your spine.

“Leave now, slaver. This is your last warning,” the man said, tone calm and collected but with a promise of danger that scared you nearly as much as the other man did.

“Oh yeah? And who are you to boss me around like that, sir? She’s not a citizen. She has no rights. The gothi are fair game!” he argued.

The man closed the distance between them and, though you couldn’t see his face, he must have looked absolutely murderous because Rumlow froze in his tracks, eyes widening in fear.

The man only placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, whispering so quietly in his ear that you had no hope of hearing his words.

Rumlow’s face fell and he sunk in such a low bow his nose practically brushed the street. “Sorry, sir! My mistake! I’ll leave at once! I beg your pardon!” he sputtered. You watched in shock as the man sprinted away and around the corner, not even chancing a glance over his shoulder.

You stared at the man as he slowly turned around, face impassive. The warmth that you’d seen at the beginning of your encounter had vanished.

“Th-thank you,” you murmured shyly in halting Latin, not quite sure where to begin on how to thank someone for saving you from slavery.

“Did you come here alone, Visigothi?” he asked, tone cold.

You frowned and straightened your back, suddenly on edge. “No... friends, family. Here. What ‘Visigothi’?” you said, racking your brain in attempt to communicate in his tongue.

He turned his back on you and began to walk away. “You are Visigothi, Visigothi. Go back to your people before Byzantium swallows you whole, barbarian.”

You frowned and, before you knew what you were doing, you lunged forward and grabbed his hand, tugging him to a halt.

He froze, staring over his shoulder at you. You didn’t know what had urged you to stop him, but something in you refused to let him go. Something about him drew you to him like a moth to the flame.

“Want thank you. What name?” you asked hesitantly, eyes wide and beseeching. 

You weren’t sure if you imagined it or not, but it seemed like his eyes softened just a bit and he turned to face you. “You don’t need to thank me... and my name is James,” he said, lip tilting up just a fraction at the corner.

You smiled widely at him, happy to see even a tiny chip in his ice cold armor. You weren’t sure what had brought it on, but after seeing what he could be like, you hated this iciness with a passion. “Thank you, James. Saved me. Owe you,” you said with a sincere smile.

Your breath hitched when he took a step forward and raised his hand as though to cup your cheek. You stared up into those endless blue eyes and felt your heart beat hard in your chest. Yes, you thought. Just a little bit closer and-

But then his hand froze just inches from your face and curled into a fist which promptly dropped to his side, the warm look in his eyes vanishing in an instant, only to be replaced by stone cold indifference. He tugged his hand from yours and your heart nearly broke when he turned and walked away. “Go home, Visigothi... and don’t come back.”

You wanted to run after him, but your feet refused to move. Your legs felt like jelly after running all over town (and likely because of James) and even standing was a struggle. You watched him until he made it to the corner, eyes widening in surprise when he looked back at you. His expression was hard to read from this distance, but you thought you might have seen sorrow or regret there. But then he turned and walked away, leaving you an emotional wreck in his wake.

You wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but the fear of being discovered by Rumlow- without James to protect you this time- spurned your tired feet forward and, using the palace and waterfront as guidance points, you worked your way back towards Wanda and Pietro.

Next Chapter

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[saey-bae]

hc: rfa with tone deaf!mc

here's to all the mcs who can't sing,, 💜 :')

 check out my masterpost here

Yoosung:

yoosung loveslovesloves you,, don’t get him wrong,,,,, you’re so talented and amazing and wonderful

just.....not when it comes to singing

you’re kind of pretty off key for most songs

the only thing he can really listen to you sing is maybe twinkle twinkle little star. maybe.

still, he doesn’t say a word about your singing because you absolutely love singing and he doesn’t want to be the bearer of bad news

“just grin and bear it, mate. it’ll be over soon” idk how much more of this i can take tho

it’s when you decide to try out for the university choir that yoosung starts getting nervous 

oh god,, you can’t sing to save your life,, 

what if people make fun of you?? he doesn’t think he can handle people making fun of you ;A;

“mc, i love you and you’re wonderful, but i only want you singing for me~”

“aw,, baby, i’ll always sing for you, but i reallyreally want to try this out i think i can do it”

you don’t make it is it a surprise, really?

much depressed. so sadness.

he comforts you by making you breakfast in bed and tries to be extra sweet and gentle with you for the rest of the week bc honestly gosh you did try really hard and that earned you brownie points

also makes you brownies 

and he still has to listening to your bad singing,, but he’ll do it with a smile bc he loves you

Zen:

he tries to teach you how to sing

he's been trying to teach you for a while now, actually, though there's been no progress so far....... 

listen,, you've got a good sound, a good vibe going on

you just don't understand the concept of notes, rhythm, or tempo aha

ok maybe you need a lot of polishing but he's too sweet to say anything about the three key changes that you decided to add in, the terrible falsetto, and the... well, that bit right there

however, he's so, so patient with you and he's always there to comfort you when you have a lapse in confidence

it's when he's practicing for one of his musicals that he catches you with one of his scores 

and you're rapping his lines it’s totally not hamilton, your voice no longer soft and sweet, but hard and edgy and your rhythm is perfect and jlvrfbjrfvbjfrcbjfcr

you're spitting fire

and --no pun intended-- that's so hot ??? 

it's then that he realizes you might not be able to sing bc the weird tied notes and dotted quarter notes and difficult rhythms in slow music are messing you up

maybe he can teach you with pop or rock music or something with a definitive beat !!

he's very excited for your next lesson to come bc he knows his jagiya’s going to be i n c r e d i b l e

Jaehee:

this babe is so so so supportive of you, you don’t understand

you were the one who helped her turn her dream into a reality-- you’re her biggest cheerleader, so it would only be right for her to be your biggest cheerleader

it just so happened that you liked singing and you’ve been harbouring the dream of becoming a singer someday since you were a child

ok great,, that’s great !! that is, until she realizes you can’t sing

but even after knowing that, she continues to encourage you bc she loves you

that only prompts you to sing all the time

even when you’re in public

darling, people are staring pls put down the loaf of bread you’re crooning to and let’s move on we need to go pick up some vegetables

she loves how you’ve grown more confident under her praise, even if your singing isn’t great bc she can see how happy you are and you’ve improved. kind of. a little teensy bit.

still, there are days when even she can’t bear the offkey singing

especially in small enclosed spaces, like the car, where your voice seems to bounce everywhere

so she’ll turn up the stereo and drown you out a little

you’ll match the volume

she’ll sing along with you and drown you out

and hopefully you won’t notice

you do, though, and you smile her way bc, although you haven’t said anything, you know you’re not a great singer 

and you love her all the more for being so loving and encouraging

Jumin:

this man will hire vocal teachers for you  

like...........the best of the best-- even the professionals, if that’s who you need to help you

he will buy the nicest mic and headphone set for you, and he’ll commission someone to write music for you personally

he’ll even buy a recording studio he’s already bought actually. you’re welcome.

if your teachers even make slight mention that you have no vocal talent whatsoever.....

“how dare you claim that my wife has no talent? i believe it is you who is incapable of teaching. you are dismissed” 

you know that saying “love is deaf, dumb, blind, and stupid”  ?? well jumin is especially deaf

this man will ask you to sing for him on a regular basis and actually enjoy it bc of your effort

and well,, bc it’s you and he adores you

if the rfa goes for karaoke, well,,, good luck guys you’re gonna need it bc he will insist that you sing just one more song, kitten, please?

the only time karaoke is bearable is when jumin sings along with you bc, let’s be real, this man can sing

and as much as zen hates jumin, he will absolutely go bonkers if he has to hear you screech my heart will go on once more 

so, like the rest of the rfa, he’ll plead for jumin to sing

and right before you start, seven lowkey messes with the mics so jumin’s is just slightly significantly louder than yours

you notice your mic must be broken and juju’s a sweetheart, so he offers to switch

hnnnnnnnnnnng karaoke is always a painful experience with you

Seven:

are you kidding this boi can’t sing either

but hey,, just like you-- he has no s h a m e in singing loudly and proudly, even with his terrible voice

the rfa dreads car rides with the two of you,,,, honestly 

if they didn’t have to take car rides with you, they would so avoid it, but it was much more convenient to take rides together to meetings

still.........

you’re screeching out holding out for a hero at the top of your lungs and it’s a rendition that makes yoosung want to tear his hair out 

you have to be very good at being a bad singer to sing so terribly

seven only tops you because, in addition to that horrific voice of his, he’s singing this while he’s in drag-- in other words, he’s wearing his fairy godmother costume that he so happened to bring with him 

jaehee’s staring up at the ceiling, willing for the time to go faster because please she can’t take anymore of this 

but you and seven? 

the two of you are grinning at each other while you sing, fully aware of the agony surrounding you 

and you’re enjoying it bc you little memes are Chaotic Neutrals and you two live off of their suffering

when the music finally ends, the other members of the rfa are breathing sighs of relief

that’s until seven leans over to fiddle with the stereo and changes the song to friday it’s a tuesday?? and hooooooboy

it is a long, long ride indeed

[askmyboys]

Kevin Waters Ward

| Name: Kevin Waters Ward (a very UNFORTUNATE name oof)

| Nicknames: Floatie/Rot/Rottie (he likes those nicknames a lot even tho there aren’t even related to his real name like at ALL)

| Gender: He/Him and It/It’s

| Age: N/A

| Height: 5’0”

| Species/Race Drowned (Zombie)

| Eye Color: Turquoise (there’s a glow from his mouth that’s also turquoise)

| Hair Color: Dark Brown (his hair is pretty gross honestly, it’s matted and weirdly slimy, its just- super gross (his hair is long as well because he doesn’t… really know how to cut it)

| Skin Color/Body Type: Ocean Blue and his body type is average really not too chubby or too skinny

| Appearance: Let’s start off with his outfit, his main outfit and only one is the typical ones Drowned’s wear, after all it's simple and honestly the best thing considering they have to stay in water, it’s the ripped and tattered brown shirt and pants, he wishes he could wear other types of clothing honestly, he also wishes he could come out of the water just in general, sure, there’s nighttime or rainy weather but still, he doesn’t wanna just HAVE to go back to the water- either way, he has pointed ears, he has normal teeth surprisingly ...except for of course his fangs, he has claws as well, and before I forget he has a circle beard as well, he has parts of his rib showing, some of his cheek has been torn off exposing a bit of his jaw/teeth, he’s got some bone showing as well on his arms and legs, his joints have also seemingly been stitched together by someone… He also has a few stitches on his fingers as well.

| Personality: Given his mob’s nature naturally people and others are terrified of him, and he honestly wishes it could be different, he’s got a LOT of curiosity to him especially when it comes to humans, humans fascinate him honestly… He’s also a bit childlike as well, he can’t speak TOO well and big words confuse him but gosh dammit he’s trying his best, he’s also an EXTREMELY slow learner so please be patient with him, hates loud noises and will start crying (him crying is really gross, both sound wise and look wise), especially if you yell at him or threaten him with anything, he can’t blame you if you threaten him though or if your scared even if he doesn’t want that, he can see how terrifying he is.

Despite being so friendly, sweet, and outgoing, he does have the urges to nibble sometimes, his bite is unfortunately toxic so if you get bitten (not nibbled on but I’d still be careful either way…) but if you get bitten welp have fun with zombification motherfucker lmao, he does love to nibble on things and chew things, so honestly just give him a fuckin squeaky/chew toy of some kind and that way he won’t have a big of an urge to chew on skin or anything, he does try to control his urges though, he doesn’t like how strong they can get sometimes, how strong his urge is to p much eat someone, its frightening… But he tries his best, humans just… Fascinate him so much, he wishes he could get close to them without them being afraid or trying to hurt him, he just wants to hold someone (touch starved boy) and he wants to feel their skin, their hair, etc-

Do humans feel warm or cold like him? Does human skin feel weird like his orr normal…? ...He wonders what it’d be like to be a human sometimes, he’s babey essentially excluding when he has his “episodes” however, when those happen he can become very violent and aggressive even though he doesn’t mean to, he just let himself go waaaayy too long without food, I’d recommend running when he’s like this because I mean, ya don’t wanna let him eat you, do ya? ….Don’t answer that, its a no, no you don’t… Whenever he’s finished with doing t h a t however if he’s hurt or worse killed anyone he always winds up beating himself up over it, there’s a lot of breaking down and crying involved, he didn’t mean to, he didn’t WANT this…

Being a Drowned can be such a burden sometimes... 

(tl;dr: Friendly, sweet, outgoing, just wants friends, someone to hold, touch starved lad for sure, has episodes here n there and can go into a frenzy which he always feels guilty bout afterwards even if he didn’t actually hurt anyone, sometimes wishes he could be human bc being a Drowned feels like such a burden, loves to chew on things a l o t, childlike for sure, hates that people are usually terrified of him, its 100% gotta be like a FULL ON bite, nibbling/a lil chewing doesn’t REALLY count as long as it doesn’t wind up breaking skin)

| Side Facts: He has a Trident, he never ever uses it but its there in case he needs protection, it was given to him at a young age and despite being pretty slow (both learning wise and slow movement wise usually) he’s REALLY good and VERY accurate with the tridents, not sure about a bow/crossbow however, he’s never used one of those but I can say with confidence he’d probs be damn good with one of those as well, despite me saying he’s slow, he’s pretty fuckin fast when in water, one moment he could be way down below in the deepest parts of the ocean, next moment he’s right beside you or in your boat even like ….hh...hiiiii… ...please dont shoot the lad or stab him- he means no harm genuinely.

He loves exploring the world, its so vast and beautiful… So much out there, so much he STILL hasn’t even seen yet! 

(lmao for a funny side thing, I imagine Kevin is SUPER lucky like he’s found shipwrecks, desert temples, jungle temples, fucking STRONGHOLDS of all things, ruined nether portals, etc-

what’s sad though is he’s easy to trick/manipulate/guilt, if you wanna go to one of those all it takes is a promise of being his friend and then boom, you’ve got a free ticket to one of these things ….DAMMIT I SAID THIS’D BE FUNNY AND IT TURNED SAD- JUST, DONT LIE TO HIM- JUST BE HIS FRIEND DAMMIT fkjdslkfdjksl;f, he’s a very sweet Drowned who won’t ever even attack you, he just wants someone to be with and that’s all.

The other Drowned however I will say don’t like him for how soft he is towards people, he’s a zombie-esque mob, he needs to ACT like one, he needs to stop holding his urges back and just go for people like the others, the zombies along with husks, p much any zombie based mob doesn’t like him for these factors and that he’ll actually PROTECT people from his own damn kind, traitor much?

He doesn’t much like them either though, they are all mean, all they care about is hurting and killing innocent people… In the end all they care about is themselves really, he cares about others and he’ll NEVER stop caring about them, even if they hurt him, he usually chalks that up to them just attacking out of fear which he understands, I will say though… Despite being so passive and friendly, he isn’t just going to let you “kill” him… He won’t fight back but he is going to try and get away at the very least.

Also! His favorite music discs are Ward (why I chose his last name LMAO and shh he doesn’t need to know bout that first bit sounding like funeral music just don’t even tell him),he REALLY loves Cat and Far as well, and finally Strad is one of his comfort songs that can help him calm down.

He’s a bit scared of Mellohi, that song gives him a feeling of dread, Chirp isn’t one of his favorites really… That song makes him feel weird… Music Disc 11 absolutely TERRIFIES this poor boy, any time he hears that playing on someone’s juke box he swims the fuck AWAY as FAST as he can, feels the same as Thirteen as he does with 11.

He’s got no opinion on Stal really, he’s neutral toward that song- Mall is a good song for long journeys, he loves Wait for how funny it sounds, and even though its EXTREMELY rare to hear, Pigstep actually isn’t one of his favorites unfortunately, that type of music just isn’t his cup of tea, it isn’t like TERRIBLE tho by any means.

Oh yeah a few more things, his home is actually a cave, it's under the water but the part he’s in SPECIFICALLY that he’s made himself, he made sure to clear the water from that area to put his chests and items in, those items are stolen ones or ones left behind from people, he just… Likes having things like that, and if somehow he for once meets a human friend he’ll be more than happy to share his items or even give some! ...He does make sure to keep water nearby, he’s made a tiny pool right outside his cave house just in case he can’t make it back to the other water sources before he feels dried out.