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thewebcomicsreview · 4 years

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Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!

Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out!

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We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?

Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid

ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid

ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

What.

So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too.

ROXY: sup

ROXY: follow me

ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way

JOHN: haha ok.

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.

...

What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert

JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.

JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?

He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.

ROXY: u said ur house is gone??

JOHN: yep.

JOHN: completely.

ROXY: jeez

Heh. I like Roxy, still.

JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.

If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.

ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push

ROXY: we both got sick muscles

ROXY: no other adjectives necessary

I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.

....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope?

JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?

ROXY: hmmmmmm no

JOHN: oh ok.

JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.

JOHN: space.

JOHN: wherever we are.

ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now

ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi

ROXY: and by that i mean

ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn

JOHN: right, sorry.

JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.

ROXY: u catch on fast egbert

Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?

JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.

ROXY: well no not x actly

ROXY: were in the old meteor

It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this.

CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.

This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.

CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.

CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?

Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.

CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.

JOHN: ok.

A’ight, that got a laugh out of me

JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!

JOHN: i'm so sorry.

JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):

I like this conversation a lot.

ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you

JOHN: listen.

JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.

Quite a bit, in fact.

ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love

JOHN: aw.

Roxy and John have a good dynamic.

CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

JOHN: ...right.

John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.

CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.

CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u

Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.

CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.

ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point

CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan

CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.

CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.

CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.

CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?

So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.

This is actually a great plan.

And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.

#homestuck #homestuck 2 liveblog

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2018shawn · 4 years

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newborn???

I’m soft for dad!Tom atm so how about surprising him that you’re pregnant by giving him a mini Spider-Man suit. 🥺🥺🥺

a/n: I can’t believe how much I’m writing am I feeling OkAyY??? I really loved this request so THANK U I also really enjoyed writing this and think it may be one of my favourite things ever wieghnksd thank u to @shawnsmoose for putting up with me annoying her

a/n 2.0: can we also appreciate the ending bc I feel it is true tom style ... caring ... but not necessary

warnings: the teeniest tiniest talk of smut until Tom does a tom. swearing I think?? maybe??? fluff???? TESSA. BABIES. HAPPY BYE

You sighed, looking at the ridiculously big clock on the wall opposite you. 6pm; Still at least another hour until Tom got home and that’s with the best of traffic. Straightening the table runner yet again, you brushed over it with your hands to remove any creases before moving on to straightening the cutlery. It was funny, really; that you thought cooking tom’s favourite dinner would somehow soften the blow of the news you had to break to him.

Okay, you said aloud to yourself, stepping back with your hands on your hips to admire your - if you say so yourself – perfect display. Checking under your seat where you always sat, you made sure the small gift bag was there, just in case you’d dreamt putting it there, nodding to yourself when you saw it sat waiting. Might as well make a start on the vegetables.

In the kitchen, you played some soft music to calm your nerves. You stood in the door of the refrigerator, the light hitting you as you squinted at the half-finished bottle of white wine which was screaming your name. It’s gonna be a long 9 months. Sighing as you grabbed the peach lemonade instead; you flipped it towards the counter, feeling super impressed with yourself when it landed upright. Tom and Jake would never, you thought, laughing to yourself as you recalled their excitement on the plane when they managed to get it in the cup holder in one go.

It was safe to say, after one and a half months of him filming in a completely different country, you were ready for him to return as even the pictures on the walls were rolling their eyes at you talking to yourself. Your phone pinged, and you pulled it from your back pocket before it had even stopped vibrating.

Traffic ain’t too bad. See you soon, baby girl 🥺🏡💛

Can’t wait, roastie’s are in the oven and beers in the fridge 🐷🍺

Marry me? 💛💛💛

You giggled as you were about to shove your phone back in your pocket, another vibration forcing you to open your phone screen again.

Actually, that’s not even a question. You will marry me 🍑😈

“Oh honey, I’m homeeeeee!” He sang, and you heard his suitcase roll across the hard hallway floor before it stopped, assumingly being propped up at the bottom of the stairs. You’d missed his goofy ways, he annoyingly loud voice, his warm hugs.

He practically ran into the kitchen, hitting the breaks when he saw you heading towards his direction. “HI,” he screamed, actually running up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You think he almost knocked you over, but you knew he wouldn’t allow that to happen. Holding you close, he made a super squishy noise as he bear hugged you, lifting you off the ground.

“Hi, baby” You giggled, pulling your head away, your chests still touching, and arms still tangled around each other.

His lips came crashing down, eager to feel you, touch you, taste you. He’d missed you more than he’d let on since he’d been away. He knew you struggled being alone for such a long period of time, so he took it upon himself to be the stronger one, insisting that it wasn’t long until he’d be home and you’re in his arms. He, of course, felt even possibly worse than you did, wanting nothing more to be home with you, to make sure you’re safe. He’d be lying if he said his brothers coming around to borrow his computer shit was all coincidental.

He tasted of a mixture of mento’s, the mint ones, and cherry pepsi max and it felt infectious. He hummed into your lips as your fingers found their way into his bouncy hair and his fingers curled into your waist, almost like he was checking you were actually real. “How long do we have until dinner’s ready?” He smirked, nudging your nose with his.

On cue, the timer on the oven starting a repetitive beep and he groaned, pouting his bottom lip out like a little kid when you walked away, swaying your hips with an extra bounce. He tried distracting you as you dished up your meal, which was the last thing he wanted to eat with you stood in front of him. “Tom, I need to talk to you first, remember.”

“Yeah, but we could also talk after?” His arms were wrapped around your waist as you spooned the vegetable on his overloaded plate; you were definitely a feeder. You swatted his arm away as he tried to steal a roast potato, which were of course covered in your secret seasoning. He managed to sneak one, groaning and whistling out loud when he realised it was far too hot for consumption. Raising your eyebrows, you scowled him as if to say I told you so.

To say he was more interested in tasting you than tasting his dinner, it wasn’t on his plate for longer than 7 minutes, approx, washing the whole thing down with the rest of his beer. He joked that he’d finished filming now, meaning there was room for more food without a strict diet for once.

“So, you wanted to talk?” He asked, leaning back in his chair as he patted at his stomach. Oh the irony.

“Uh, yeh…” you shuffled in your seat, palms feeling sweaty and throat going a little dry, “I got you something.”

You started to bend down, to retrieve your gift from under the table but he slid back in his chair, causing a screech across the wooden floor, “OOOO, NO. I got YOU something!”

“No, Tom, can it…” he was already out the door heading to his suitcase before you could finish, leaving you to finish your sentence, “… wait.”

He came back through, holding a tiny bag, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. “There was this little store and I knew you’d love it, because you like silver jewellery, so I got this made.” He shoved it in your hands, pulling the seat out and sitting next to you, instead of in his normal seat opposite. Your heart warmed at his thoughtful gift, although you had to chew at your lip as your nerves built. Inside was a little box, wrapped in a delicate white ribbon, with assumingly the company name’s initials embossed onto the front. It was like he was watching you open a Christmas present, spilling tails of how he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s got you yet and if you don’t wear it, he will. Your lips parted as you opened the lid, the silver bangle shining up at you. Wrapped around were three separate charms; two T’s, and your own initial. “Because we’re like a little family, right? And I wanted to be with you, and you…” he laughed as he stroked Tessa who was sat under his feet, “even if I’m physically not.”

You weren’t soft, by any stretch of the imagination, but something about tom made you feel like jelly and melt like butter. “I bloody love you, you idiot.” You beamed, “it’s beautiful, thank you.” You couldn’t help but note how there may soon need to be another initial on there, panicking as you played his words over in your mind. We’re like a little family. What if what you’re about to tell him is going to ruin everything? What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t want you?

“So… my turn now,” he smiled, fluttering his eyelashes at you. You sighed heavily. Here goes nothing. Reaching under your chair, his eyebrows raised with an impressed glow at your organisation, much different to his presentation. He furrowed his eyebrows, hands reaching out for the small, brown gift bag, clinching his fingers back and forth like a little kid himself.

If he thought you opened your present slowly, boy, did he wanna be in your shoes right now. He fought with the white tissue paper you’d wrapped the small item in, muttering to himself as he eventually just ragged it out and threw it behind him, tessa immediately jumping to it and running around with it in her mouth like the proudest dog in the world.

The pattern of the item was familiar to him - how could it not be? The red and blue suit, with black lines decorating the majority, was exceptionally smaller compared to the one he wore on set. His face was scrunched up in confusion, “you know I can just get one that fits me right?”

“It’s not meant to fit you,” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and turning over the size tag that was still attached.

“First size/newborn” he whispered to himself, “newborn...”

He sat for about 10 seconds in silence, and it killed you, because it felt like 10 hours. His eyes finally snapped up to meat your worried overwatch, “NEWBORN?!”

Excitingly repeating the word, he pointed at the small baby grow “newborn?”

Then to his (in true Tom style) his penis, “newborn?”

And then finally to your lower stomach, “newborn?”

You nodded, bringing your lips together into a thin line as you let him digest the news. He grabbed the small sleepsuit, clutching it in his hand as he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you, wanting to never let go. “I didn’t know if you wanted this yet, and I understand if you’re not ready, and we can talk, but I really think I...”

He pulled you back, a hand on each shoulder, resting his forehead against yours. “Y/N, this is the best fucking this to ever happen to me, to us. Thank you so much...” your eyes filled up, just as his did, only yours was with relief. You’d never considered getting rid of the baby, and hoped Tom didn’t want to either, but you did come to accept that he might not be ready.

“I think I should thank you, it’s you that looked really hot at the premiere. And it’s also you that didn’t pull out quick enough, evidently” You giggled, and he laughed too, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that were only just escaping your eyes.

“You looked hot too.” He stated, giving you a peck on the lips. “How long have you known?”

“About a week, I knew your dumb ass would fly home and ruin filming for something that’s the size of a blueberry.”

“Oh my god, we got a baby blueberryyyy” he grinned, his hand coming down to rest on your stomach.

“I mean, yeh, but at the minute all you’ll feel is just roast potatoes in there”

Tucked up in bed, you rested on his chest, his fingers drawing random patterns on your side as you leant into him. “Are we really.. gonna do this?” You stuttered out, feeling his lips press to the top of your head.

He adjusted so you shuffled gently onto your back, rolling himself on top of you, leaning on his forearms to be careful not to crush you, and your blueberry. “I wouldn’t ever force you to keep it... him... her? Baby berry?... But I know you’re just scared. And I am too but that’s ok.” He pressed loving kisses to your tingling lips between each set of words as your hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I mean, we were gonna have one eventually.”

“We were?” You smirked, interested to hear more.

“Mhmmm...” he hummed, moving his lips from your mouth and across your jaw, eventually ending up at the delicate skin on your neck as he spoke, “I think 3. 1 boy, 1 girl, 1 blueberry...” Your laugh filled the room at not only his tom-ness, but the way his breath tickled your neck as he spoke. “In a big house, and another tessa, maybe a couple more chickens because my kids are gonna love dippy egg and soldiers.”

His tongue lapped the areas his teeth were nibbling, swapping his needy, harsh touch for a more gentle approach. You groaned into him, back arching as he grazed all your sensitive spots, his hands running up your t shirt and cupping your breast. You moaned his name into him, with nothing but love filling the word.

Your nipples grew hard between his fingers as he toyed with you, barely noticing how he was moving around on top of you, reaching over to the bedside drawer and rummaging through.

“Tom, what on Earth are you doing?” You laughed.

“Getting a condom?

#dad!tom #tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland oneshot #BABY

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ptersparkers · 4 years

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angel (chilling adventures of sabrina)

summary: as the only pure mortal in the fright club, there seems to be an influx of interesting things happening in greendale that you are unaware of. a certain prince of hell happens to find that interesting.

warnings: typos, probably.

a/n: ummm maybe i binge watched caos this past week and maybe i’ve fallen in love. i’ll let you figure that out. also this is my first time writing for caos (and not marvel, lol) so let me know what you think!!’ pls give feedback thank u.

add yourself to my tasglist!

ps: this gif is mine so if you use it, please credit!

When all was said and done, Sabrina and Caliban had come to amicable terms regarding the shared responsibility of ruling Hell.

It didn’t take much convincing for Caliban to relinquish his prior ambition after learning his rule would end within a day, as the Pagans would have defeated him and taken Earth for themselves. Sabrina’s ability to show him the time loop she was once trapped in gave him a reason to quit the fighting and rule Hell on an equal scale, no questions asked.

Plus, he started to like the bleach blonde witch.

You, on the other hand, felt like you had missed out on the most important plot piece of the greatest film of all time.

While Harvey, Theo, and Roz had known about Sabrina’s secret since her sixteenth birthday, you were left in the dust about the shenanigans that went on around Greendale. You were truly the only mortal with no magic or witch ties, but the other four couldn’t say the same. Sabrina was a witch, Theo’s ancestor Dorothea often visited him in time of need, Harvey’s family had a history of witch hunting (which he does not partake), and Roz’s ability to foreshadow the future with a simple touch proved to be more useful than she had originally thought.

You were a mortal. A regular high school student whose biggest problems were studying for four AP classes every day while balancing cheerleading and other extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until recently that the strangeness came to light. What the Fright Club had failed to mention was that Sabrina had continuously hexed you in order to keep you out of harm’s way by leaving a small bag filled with her Aunt Hilda’s concoctions in your bedroom. It worked its magic when you slept, an invisible blanket covering your eyes that made their strange disappearances seem normal.

But it seems like that hex was fading. Sabrina neglected to change it out every other week due to being preoccupied by Caliban’s yearning, the Dark Lord’s agenda, and Lilith’s drama regarding Hell. Now you sat with wonder and couldn’t help but feel left out of a great adventure that your friends embarked on.

A month had passed since Sabrina and Caliban had made amends. You grew to understand the nature of it and the four filled you in on all you had missed with a guilt hanging over their heads. It was hard to hear and understand, but ultimately you couldn’t hate your best friends for wanting to keep you safe.

You knew not to question Sabrina’s whereabouts if you weren’t able to find her because she was most likely taking care of business down below. You still had yet to meet Caliban and the only information you gathered from him was what the gang caught you up on and Sabrina’s grievances whenever she felt annoyed by him.

“You know, this is all a weird concept,” you said. “I mean, I guess I always had my faith and doubt kept me guessing about what’s really out there, and it’s really out there,” you said, stealing a fry from Theo’s plate. The five of you sat in Dr. Cerberus’s diner and decided you weren’t going to do anything that wasn’t normal for teenagers.

“It still creeps me out,” Harvey admitted. “Hell was worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“Caliban’s got things under control and Lilith’s doing just fine being an advisor,” Sabrina said. “I don’t think she’s mad about the ruling situation anymore. Lucifer’s still doing his bidding but I think they’ve reconnected.”

“That’s...good?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“That is an absolute understatement.”

The door to the diner chimed while you fished inside of your purse for a quarter.

“I’m gonna go pick out a song, any requests?”

“You’re the music genius,” said Roz. You smiled and walked towards the front of the diner.

As you approached the machine and put the quarter inside of the slot, a tall man with sand colored hair loomed over you and watched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Not really. Just observing.” You quirked an eyebrow, not recognizing his face despite knowing everyone in the small town.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Greendale’s a pretty small town. It’s easy to spot someone who’s not a local,” you replied.

“Well in that case, I’m not from around these parts. Far from, actually.” He looked at your hand and then the juke box. “What song are you choosing?”

You pried your gaze away from him to look back at the machine and put the coin in the slot, choosing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” before looking back at him.

“Satisfied?”

The handsome stranger looked at you and didn’t try to hide the face that he was checking you out by letting his eyes look at your body up and down. Not that you minded.

“Very,” he said with a sail try voice before walking around the corner. “The name’s Caliban.”

“Y/N,” you replied. You raised your eyebrow before walking back to the other four and sat down in your previous seat only for the handsome stranger to approach the table.

“Caliban,” Sabrina greeted. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Nice choice,” Roz commented, hearing the song play throughout the diner.

“That’s Caliban, as in the Caliban?” you asked.

“It’s good to know you lot have been talking about me,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I decided to take a break from, you know, and come see what you love so much about Greendale.”

“She knows about Hell,” said Sabrina.

“Funny how I’ve never seen her there, or anywhere with you four, as a matter of fact,” Caliban replied.

“It’s a long story,” you said, sipping on your chocolate milkshake. “Not an important one, though.”

“Contrary,” he began. “You’re the first purely true mortal I’ve met in Hell or otherwise with no ancestral ties to witches or greater magic. That’s pretty important to me.” You blushed, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harvey asked with a slight attitude. Caliban shifted his focus from you to him, which made your body relax a little bit.

“I didn’t come here for business or to whisk Sabrina away, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just here to see what makes Greendale so special, though I think I’m starting to see why.” Caliban spared no expense and was not shy about looking in your direction as he spoke his last statement.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said sternly. “You are not going to get any ideas, are you?”

Caliban chuckled and put his hands up in defense. “Whatever you say, Sabrina.” He began to walk away but not before turning around and winking at you. “See you around.”

Caliban walked out the door and you didn’t bother asking where he was going next.

“Dear Satan, he’s so annoying,” Sabrina said, exasperated. “It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to make my life, well, a living Hell for lack of a better term.”

“At least he’s not hellbent on defeating you anymore,” Theo reasoned. “I think he’s trying to get to know you a little bit better.”

“And he’s doing it by flirting with my best friend?” Sabrina asked. She put her head on your shoulder and and ate a fry from her plate. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying you need to stay away from Caliban, but you need to be careful around him. At least until we’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him completely.”

“Loud and clear, Brina,” you said. “I still can’t really wrap my head around this whole thing. I can’t watch horror films about Hell and witches the same ever again.”

The Fright Club laughed.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Harvey said. “I mean, I was pretty apprehensive at first. Remember when Brina and I broke up and I spent every day at your place after school?” You nodded. “That’s when she told me she was a witch. It was kind of hard to wrap my head around until everything with the Pagans and angels happened.” You nodded, soaking in his words. “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you don’t understand. I don’t even understand most of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“In think that’s enough food for me,” said Roz who pushed her plate to the middle. “Seeing Hell with my own eyes really suppressed my appetite.”

”Oh, shoot,” you said, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. “I have to head home and help my mom. I promised her I’d help clean the kitchen and I’ve got to be home in ten minutes. Can I pay you guys back?”

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?” said Theo.

“Count on it!”

***

You saw Caliban not long after your first encounter with him. The idea of him being the ruler of Hell (alongside Sabrina) was still a hard concept to understand and you weren’t quite sure if you were supposed to bow in his presence or not.

“Unnecessary,” he said when you asked. Caliban sat across from you at the local coffee shop, offering to walk you when you had caught his eye. You harbored a hot latte and he held a blueberry scone in his hand. “I think you mortals like that glory.”

You shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hell doesn’t have formalities when it comes to celebration other than referring to each other by one’s title,” he explained. “It’s just easier that way.”

“You make it seem like Hell’s a relaxed place to be.”

He pinched a piece of his scone off at put it in his mouth, smirking at your statement.

“Oh, far from it. As righteous as demons are, we’re not that shallow.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you’re made out of clay,” you said, taking a sip of your latte.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno,” you said. You reached over the table to poke his bicep. “You seem so real. So human.”

Normally, Caliban would’ve been offended by such a comparison. But he smiled.

“I suppose. I don’t question my creation. I accept it and try to live as adventurously as I can.”

“I hope to,” you said. “Getting out of Greendale, I mean. It’s my biggest dream.”

“You’d want to leave this town?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied. “I have nothing going for me here. I’m powerless and there’s no reason for me to stay where I’m not needed.”

To his surprise, Caliban felt his heart jolt at your comment. He was wordless for a moment.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe somewhere on the west coast. Maybe I’ll still be in New England. College is the perfect opportunity to explore the world and come back home for a few weeks at a time.”

“This is where Lucifer fell, you know,” said Caliban. “The sacred place is hidden deep in the woods where there’s a clearing of rocks and stone. That’s why this place is driven by witches of the Church of Night.”

“I still can’t believe the Devil is walking among us,” you said, shaking your head. “My mom used to force me to go to Sunday school, and I suppose I did have faith. It’s all meta now.”

“Are you still a believer?” he asked.

“I kind of have to be, considering you’re here.”

Caliban smiled.

“Do Heaven and Hell ever interact withe each other?”

“Not exactly,” he began. “We’re on civil relations but don’t want anything to do with each other. They stay up there so long as we stay down here. I’ve never encountered an angel before.”

“You haven’t?”

“They aren’t allowed to come down to Earth unless absolutely necessary,” he explained. “Not really sure why but it’s one of their more important rules.”

“I think I have a headache,” you teased. All of this knowledge about celestial beings truly made your senses adapt to your surroundings in Greendale and you were more than aware of the fact that God was real.

“I should go,” Caliban said, standing up. “I need to escort some souls back to Hell and send some up north.”

“You mean not all souls who are sold to the Devil go to Hell?”

“Sabrina and I negotiated that,” he said. “No more soul-selling. The ones that preexist will be discussed by her and I, and we decide if the punishment is worth the crime. I don’t think someone who sold their soul for a good cause needs to spend all eternity down in Hell. That’s why she comes down there all the time.”

“Huh,” you said at a loss for words.

Caliban smiled. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

***

The next time you see Caliban was with the rest of the Fright Club. He was wearing a linen button down with several buttons popped open, exposing his bare chest with black slacks and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and you swore this was the most human you had ever seen him.

“Ambrose is being a little paranoid and wants me to check out the edge of Greendale for threats,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s just worried about me co-ruling Hell while living on Earth. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say that like it’s just another day in Greendale,” you said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Well, do you need us to do anything?” Roz asked.

“I want you to come with me, if that’s okay. Harvey, Theo, and Y/N, you don’t need to come. I’m sure this is Ambrose being Ambrose.”

“Are you sure, Brina?” Harvey asked.

She waved him off. “It’s fine, really. Roz and I will spend a few hours making sure things are normal and we’ll meet back at my place for dinner? Aunt Hilda’s kind of expecting us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Theo said enthusiastically.

Sabrina gave the group one last smile before she took Roz’s hands and teleported out of the room, which left the four of you.

“I can give you a ride, Theo,” Harvey offered before looking at you. “And you too. I don’t mind driving to the other side of town.”

“I can take her home,” Caliban said. Harvey looked at you and Caliban spoke again, noticing his hesitation. “Part of our deal was that I made sure her friends remain unharmed. That includes Y/N.”

Harvey seemed to accepted this answer and grabbed his keys from his pocket before bidding you a goodbye. He and Theo drove off in his truck before you and Caliban left in the opposite direction.

“So, uh, do you want to come in?” you asked, awkwardly standing by the front door after he insisted on walking you in.

“I don’t mind,” he said. You fumbled with the keys before opening the door with a shaky hand and let him inside. It was the first time you were letting a boy into your home (other than Harvey and Theo, but your relationship with them was strictly platonic) and you felt a little more nervous than usual. After figuring out you had liked Caliban more than you originally expected, there was nothing you could do to stop your heart from beating just a little too fast when we he was around. Him being in your house did nothing to help the situation.

As for Caliban, his usual overwhelming desire for a carnal relationship was nowhere to be found when he stepped into your house. He looked at the white walls decorated with family photos and admired the ones with you as a child. Caliban watched as you put the house keys in a glass dish and followed you to your bedroom.

It was odd, Caliban thought, to feel nothing but tranquility. He was almost always hyperaware of his surroundings and wary of demons and souls roaming past him in Hell, but it was just the two of you. Two bodies under one roof.

“My parents won’t be home until later tonight. N-Not that we have to do anything!” you added. “I just mean they’d freak out because they haven’t met you before.”

Caliban chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on making a move, if that’s what you were wondering.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Your room suits you,” he said. Caliban admired the photos on your nightstand and polaroids pinned to a brown board on the wall filled with memories from your past with the Fright Club and other friends and family members. He saw a stack of books beside your bed and a fish tank sitting by the window, your closet doors closed, and decorative pieces that highlighted your personality.

“Thanks,” you said, laying down on your best. “You can sit, you know.”

Caliban took this opportunity to lay next to you. When you felt the bed dip, you averted your eyes to the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” Caliban asked after a long pause of silence.

“How fast life changes,” you replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, but with all that I know, how can I keep all of this celestial knowledge a secret from my parents? The world is always doubting Heaven and Hell but I know the truth. I don’t know if being purely mortal is helping me out in this situation either.”

“You’re an innocent,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. “So pure and clean. Your soul has been untouched by neither light or night and it’s probably the one thing that’s going to save you in the future.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. “I’m still powerless.”

“Maybe in one way, but not completely. You have no witchcraft magic but you have intelligence and intuition. You know not to meddle with things that aren’t of your concern.”

You were silent.

“What else are you thinking about?”

“How much I like spending time with you,” you confessed. “But it’s hard, you know. You’ll be in Hell most of the time and you’re made of clay, for crying out loud.” Caliban chuckled. “I didn’t really think you’d be around as often as you are.”

Caliban was silent.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied. “I’m always thinking about you. I used to think morality was a disease, but it’s not. It’s a rationale, just like any demonic presence.” Caliban moved closed to you.

“I think about what love is and how I don’t know what it really means.”

“I think love means different things to different people,” you said. “I think it’s mutual respect and loyalty. It’s knowing details about someone, big and small. It’s about being together but knowing you can be independent. Love is hard and it takes time. Love is not instant.”

“You’re pretty wise for an innocent,” he said.

You laughed. “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe not.”

Caliban lifted his body to hover above yours, your chests barely touching as his eyes gazed right over your lips. You dared not to move and Caliban hesitantly leaned down further so that your lips barely brushed against one another, the goosebumps on your skin taking affect. Because you weren’t pulling away, he took it as a silent signal and pressed his chaste lips against your soft ones.

There was no spark. No magic and no fireworks. There was only you and Caliban, and there was no other way you would’ve wanted your first kiss to feel like. Time slowed down as Caliban relaxed by your touch and your hands roamed his neck. The cold outdoor air was replaced by the warmth of Caliban’s body and when he pulled away, he let his thumb stroke your cheek as he cupped the side of your face.

“You are, dare I say, an angel.

“That’s a compliment, considering I know how much you despise them.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception.”

Caliban leaned down once more to press a tender kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes in bliss, happy to accept the good that came with the craziness of the last month. You looked at his structured jaw and grinned at his loving gaze, letting out a tired laugh.

“Perhaps.”

#caliban x reader #caos caliban #caliban #caos caliban x reader #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos x reader #sabrina spellman #my writing #angel

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smalltragedy · 4 years

Text

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out).

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts.

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now.

#abuse tw #violence tw #drug abuse tw #gangs mention #eye injury tw #irvingintro #( ducky mercer. ) about. / ice boy.#sighs sm #also sry fr hw embarrasingly late this is #did i even spell tht rigth? no #did i spell tht one right? bno.#fuck.

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azbagans · 4 years

Text

Stuck With You

Pairing: Zak Bagans x Reader

Summary: Stuck in quarantine with Zak is slowly driving you both insane, but a minor argument brings things back into perspective. (Inspired heavily by “Stuck with U” By Ariana Grande & Justin Bieber.)

Warnings: None (basically fluff central with minor hints of angst.)

Lately you and Zak had been bumping heads, and honestly you couldn’t pin point why. Problems were a rare occurrence in your relationship, and in the case you were to argue it would be because you were upset at how careless he could be when taunting spirits or whatever it might have been. You only argued because sometimes he wouldn’t even tell you about it, so you’d find out when you watched the episode air, which was the frustrating part.

However, that wasn’t the case this time, because he had to postpone any planned investigation for the time being since the coronavirus forced states to lockdown, urge citizens to stay home, and social distance. Truly, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad. You both had missed spending time together, so you both enjoyed spending time together. Learning new meals to cook, having him assist any baking you wanted to try, cuddling up and watching movies and TV shows, or playing with Gracie out in the backyard. This was the soft domestic side you missed Zak showing, and it was comforting for you both.

Of course Zak was often FaceTiming Aaron, Billy, and Jay as they did their best to work from home either on editing old footage or planning for future renovations for Zak’s Haunted Museum. Honestly, sometimes they were simply just joking around with each other as they talked about everything and nothing all at once.

“Babe, you forgot to refill Gracie’s bowl.” You sighed as you refilled both Gracie’s water bowl and food bowl while you were at it. He was recently deep into who knew what, typing away on his laptop, calling the crew, and obliviously to you some producers too. “I’m sorry y/n, I’m a bit busy.” Zak sighed from the living room, where he sat with his laptop being used to arrange certain things, as well as his cellphone pressed to his ear thanks to his shoulder.

You had noticed he stopped putting calls on speaker, and spoke softer when you were around, which grew to annoy you. Of course you trusted him, the annoying part was that he clearly didn’t trust you. A soft sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes and entered the kitchen, making sure all the dirty dishes were around, if not in the sink, before starting to wash the dishes. How there was such a pile of dirty dishes in a household of two was absolutely beyond you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even suggest a spirit had been helping make the mess.

The sound of your phone ringing drew you from your thoughts, sighing as you dried one hand quickly to pick up the phone. Using your shoulder to keep the phone in place as you returned to washing the dishes. “Hello?” You responded, setting a now clean plate on the dish rack. “Hello y/n, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.” Nancy’s voice came through, smiling at the sound of Zak’s mother’s voice.

“No! Not at all Nancy, just washing a few dishes. How are you doing?” You responded softly as your hands became a soapy mess. “I’m doing just fine honey, thank you. I hope being locked up hasn’t caused Gracie a problem,” Nancy responded with a soft laugh. “No, not at all! We play with her in the backyard often, she still enjoys the outdoors at least.” You laughed, relaxing slightly at the news that she was indeed healthy and well.

Meanwhile, Zak had been typing away on his laptop to put together a rough draft for their investigation. “No, that won’t be necessary. We’ll handle all the filming. The security cameras will help us make sure we get absolutely everything, so we won’t need anyone else but us four.” Zak finalized with their producer. He, Aaron, Jay, and Billy had agreed to quarantine themselves within his haunted museum for two weeks. It took them some convincing before Zak was able to get everyone on board with the investigation. Zak had grown restless, and he couldn’t just stay home.

Of course the investigator loved being home with y/n and Gracie, it was relaxing and peaceful, definitely something he had needed. However, he was now ready to get back into work mode, which was challenging considering their ‘stay at home’ order had just been made longer. He was yet to tell y/n, not that he meant to hide it from her, but they had enough with their petty arguments lately. Surely, this would only be the cherry on top.

“So what can I do for you, Nancy?” You asked with a small smile as you were drying your hands, having finished washing the dishes during your small talk. “Well, I was hoping to get in touch with Zak? He hasn’t been answering my calls and I had some questions for the new investigation.” Nancy responded, you grew confused as you let Gracie outside, following her into the backyard. “I’m sorry, he’s been rather busy on the phone lately. He’s on the phone as we speak.” You explained, a small frown on your face as you sat down on the grass. “New investigation?” You questioned.

“Ah, I figured. I just wanted to check in and make sure things were sorted for their new quarantine location. I can’t believe they are going to stay in the museum for the next two weeks.” Nancy sighed, oblivious to the fact that her son hadn’t told you yet. “But anyway, please have him call me as soon as he can? It was nice talking to you, y/n.” Nancy bedded her goodbye. “Of course Nancy, take care.” You responded, hanging up shortly after.

Zak was going to stay at the museum? You weren’t sure what bothered you the most. The fact that Zak hadn’t even told you yet, the fact that none of the boys had told you either, or how stupid that idea even was. You knew the paranormal was Zak’s life, and you respected that, but you worried for him endlessly. He tended to be a little too ambitious when taunting, or exploring dangerous grounds with demonic or poltergeist activity. “Hey, my favorite girls are hanging out without me?” You heard Zak approach you, as you were torn from your thoughts while watching Gracie bark and chase after a squirrel.

“Hard to tell,” you muttered as you crossed your arms over your chest. Zak sighed as he took a seat beside you, the outdoor scene of the backyard would have been peaceful and relaxing, had it not been for the tension between the pair. “Babe, we can’t go on this way.” Zak frowned as he glanced your way, though you hadn’t met his gaze. “I agree. You know, I was wondering what I did to make you avoid me so much. When were you going to tell me?” You responded, your voice a bit hoarse as you fought back a few tears.

Zak wasn’t sure how you’d found out, but he figured it hadn’t mattered much. A sigh leaving his lips as he watched you with a soft gaze, “I’m sorry y/n. Honestly I wasn’t sure the others would even agree, and working with production to approve has been a nightmare. I didn’t want to spark another argument in case it wasn’t even approved.” Zak explained, knowing he should have told her sooner. Zak knew you’d be worried and upset, angry even, but he wasn’t expecting your response at all.

“I don’t get it.. Do you not want to be around me anymore? Am I not making you happy? I just don’t.. understand..” You frowned as your eyes began to water, blurring your vision slightly. “What? No! Where did you even get that from?” Zak frowned as he gently reached for your hands, taking them into his. This wasn’t at all the response he had imagined, and some how, it hurt ten times worse. Seeing you cry was something he never wanted to see.

“Why else would you want to lock yourself in your museum? For two weeks? Surrounded by the most deadliest and cursed objects on Earth, Zak why are you doing this?!” You asked, the hurt in your voice audible as some tears slid down your cheeks, doing your best to blink away any others. “Y/n, sweetheart…” Zak sighed as he gently let your hands go, to instead cup your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears away. “I’m so sorry, that’s not at all why we decided to do this. I figured it would give us something to do and considering the fights we’ve been having, it would give you some space. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately,” Zak explained with a frown on his face as he gazed into your eyes. “But I love you, y/n. I love being around you, even when you run that smart pretty mouth of yours.” Zak reassured with a small smile, before pressing a soft yet sweet kiss to your lips.

The tension slowly began to ease away, as you relaxed under his touch, kissing back. The contact being something you had missed the last few days after petty disputes. “I love you too Zak. I’m sorry I’ve been so petty lately.” You sighed softly before pouting, “What on Earth am I supposed to do without you the next two weeks?” You selfishly asked, though of course you were only teasing.

“Don’t worry babe, you’re stuck with me the rest of this quarantine after that. Whether you want to be or not,” He joked towards the end, a soft laugh leaving your lips as he wrapped his arms around you. He brought you into his chest as you now sat on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m stuck with you, Bagans. Go ahead and drive me insane, its just you and me.” You responded with a small smile, an arm around his neck as you leaned upward a bit and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, Gracie soon running onto your lap as you both shared a laugh.

There’s no where else you’d rather be.

#zakbagans #GAC #ghost adventures #zak bagans x reader #x reader #imagines #quarentinelife #quarantine #zak bagans imagine #aaron goodwin #billy tolley #jay wasley #paranormal #stuck with u #one shot

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keanuvibe · 4 years

Text

Professor Reeves (Keanu Reeves x Reader)

A/N: Okay, here it is. The full continuation of the teaser i posted earlier this week :) I'm v excited about this okee. Thank u @keanusreefs for inspiring me, ily<3

Words: 7.0K

Warnings: Swears, Age-gap, SMUT ;), teacher/student (does that need a tag?)

Disclaimer: all characters, places, and people are of my own imagination save for Keanu :) thank you for reading <3

The bell ringing overhead signaled the end of class and the shuffle of students erupted throughout the quiet room. The mild anxiety that came with first day nerves began infecting your veins again, and you took a deep breath standing up. You gave the teacher a nod on the way out, beginning the trek to your final class of the day.

You are a freshman in college, a newbie. However, the catch is: you’re twenty-eight. You started late, leaving highschool with big aspirations didn't turn out like you’d hoped. Being into movies and film since you were a young child, you decided a career in acting was your best option to maybe, eventually, move up in the ranks and get famous. Shortly after high school graduation, you moved to New York and began starring in small plays. Each night you hoped a scout would enter the audience and give you the break you were looking for, but over the years nothing happened. During the day you worked as a bank teller, having started after running out of money. The job was great, and you ended up staying at that location for six years before it got robbed.

You ended up moving back to your home state and with your parents at twenty-six. You were kind of a deadbeat for two years before your parents urged you to take a couple ‘fun’ classes at the local community college; mentioning how the school had a wonderful drama program. Having nothing better to do, you took out a small student loan, got a part-time job as a waitress, and enrolled at Tulip Ridge Community College focusing on Theater and Acting. You chose a few small art classes to fill the first few hours of the day, and a required English course as well, leaving your last class of the day to be Drama.

Luckily, the theater department wasn’t far from English, being that it is the class prior. You made it to the Drama room placed in a large room just off the hallway from the auditorium, greeting a hustle of students. The ages ranged, but for the most part it looked to be teens fresh from highschool. You scanned the room, greeting the over decorated space. Props from previous shows, you assumed at least, littered the painted white brick walls leaving barely any white to show. Long tables with cheap plastic school chairs sat in the middle of the room, parallel to a large prop presidential stand. On the wall behind the stand was the whiteboards with a projector screen pulled down covering the center. You assumed that was where the teacher stood. You didn’t even know their name.

In the back of the room stood a mock carpeted stage. It was most likely the place they either used to practice plays when the auditorium was occupied or sat an audience in when they did more intimate shows with a smaller crowd, like a dine-in show. You did plenty of those with your theater company in New York.

Picking a table that was empty, you quickly hustled to it before anyone else could and sat down in a corner seat. As a couple minutes passed, more rowdy theater kids had filled the room; greeting the others from their summer breaks. Most of the crowd seemed young, however the wonderful thing about community college is there's always going to be older people.

“Hi, I’m June.” A high-pitched tone spoke, catching your attention. Turning your head, you noticed a lady had taken the seat next to your own. She looked older, maybe early thirties. She donned long brunette hair and was dressed as though it was the year 1984.

“Oh, uh, Hi.” You smiled back, holding your hand out to shake instinctively, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She smiled wide. “Not to pry, but, I haven’t seen you at Tulip Ridge before, are you new?” June seemed like a preppy type, but very vintage.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a freshman.” You responded with a slight chuckle.

“Oh, well, welcome!” The woman responded, cheer evident in her tone. You were about to respond and ask her a few questions, however you were interrupted before you began.

“Good afternoon class, I’m Professor Reeves.” The humble, deep voice of the teacher startled you and you quickly glanced in his direction. Eyes widening, you greeted the sight of the delicious man. He was tall, towering over the presidential podium prop he stood behind. His hair was long and disheveled framing his face perfectly. He donned a dark brown tweed jacket with a soft green button up underneath, however, and unfortunately, you couldn’t see the bottom half.

“Welcome back, how were your breaks?” He asked, looking around the room. Students that seemed to know the man chimed back with colorful answers, prompting the man to laugh. You looked over to June who seemed engaged and intrigued by whatever the man was doing. So, is Professor Reeves the hot teacher of Tulip Ridge? What makes it even worse is he’s the Drama teacher. You’ve always had a weakness for theater boys; probably just the inner thespian in you. You had a few boyfriends back in New York, however their ego’s always tended to get the best of them and you’d have to break things off.

“I see a few new faces in the crowd this year, let’s see,” Professor Reeves’ dark eyes scanned the class once again; eyes connecting with your own. You felt a chill run down your spine as the swarm of dormant butterflies in your tummy rushed to life.

“What’s your name, breaktaking?” You felt your stomach drop as the teacher gestured towards you. A nervous snort escaped your throat and you felt your cheeks gain heat like a house on fire. You could perform in front of hundreds of people; yet the single attention of this one man was eating you alive.

“it’s- it’s (Y/N).” You nervously chuckled in response. The eyes of your classmates didn’t help the heat retaining in your cheeks. June gently patting your back snapped you back to reality and you looked in her direction. She gave you a reassuring nod, humoring the teacher still.

“And what compelled you to pursue acting, (Y/N).” Your name rolling off of Professor Reeves’ tongue made the butterflies excite even more and you cleared your throat in an attempt to brush off some embarrassment.

“Um, well, I’m not exactly new to acting and drama. I’ve been doing this medium since I was seven. After highschool I even performed in New York for a bit, but um, just small shows.” You answered with a shrug, keeping focused on the teacher. The stares from the other students were burning into your skull, but you ignored them.

“So, what’re you doing at Tulip Ridge then?” The teacher pushed, his dark eyes gleaming into your own. He leaned forwards on the podium a little, his attention still burning at you. You sat up in your seat slightly, not really wanting to admit to a room full of strangers that you feel like a loser and deadbeat and are only here because your parents convinced you.

“Well, I-” You paused, “I want to further my education, that’s reason enough. Plus, there’s no better place to start than community college.” Typical answer, but it hides the truth enough, you guess. Professor Reeves’ stare indicated he knew you were hiding something. You kept eye contact long enough before another student spoke up breaking the stare.

The abrupt bell ringing interrupted the movie that was playing on the projector screen. The class erupted as everyone began to gather their things and shuffle out for the day. Shortly after all the new and old students had been introduced, the Professor had quickly jumped into the curriculum for the semester. He went over the syllabus as well as the first project you’d be doing in the class; which is to perform a quick, no longer than three minute, scene from your movie of choice. It has to consist of at least two characters and be school appropriate, obviously. Of course you and your new table mate decided to partner up for the project with high hopes of good scores.

Speaking of the enthusiastic woman, you and June had talked throughout class slowly learning about the other. You discovered that she is thirty-one, works part-time in a bakery and has a four year old son. She isn’t married, but her and her son’s father are on good co-parenting terms. She’s been going to Tulip Ridge for one year now, making this her final year before she moves on to a four year college. She decided to go back to school after her and her son’s father split, leaving her with half an income but a full child to feed.

“Where are you headed after this?” June asked, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and grabbing her backpack.

“Back home, I’m sure my mom will want me to do some chores for her. I’ll research a scene for us and send you a link, as well. How about you?” You smiled at the woman. Being only a couple years younger than June felt nice, as most of your class as previously mentioned is overenthusiastic teenagers.

“You have got to move out, Sugar.” June laughed with a shake of her head. “I’m going to pick up my kid from daycare and spend a few hours with him before work tonight.” You could tell the woman loved her child a lot. Her voice and demeanor always softened at the mention of him. It almost made you feel the rush to be a mother; but you’re still young.

“Trust me, I know.” You responded with a chuckle. Shortly after, June said her goodbyes and excused herself. As she exited with the main crowd, only a few stragglers remained including you. You scanned the room, greeting the sight of Professor Reeves standing by the door saying his goodbyes to the students. You scanned him up and down now, actually being able to see his bottom half.

He was attractive, there was no doubt about that. The man was goofy too, as you’d expect a Drama teacher to act. During class you asked June if she knew anything about him and she actually gave you a quick rundown. Apparently he used to be a famous Hollywood star back in the mid-eighties to nineties. He did quite a few indie films, and one or two blockbusters. He fell off the radar in the year two-thousand after his wife died; resurfacing as a teacher in your rinky-dink hometown seven years later. The catch is, nobody knows his real name; at least locally. He keeps it hidden, only going by as Professor Reeves or Mr. Reeves. The fact you’d never heard of him kind of shocked you, but it really seemed like the fame world had moved on from your teacher. Students somewhat reacted to him, if they were film buffs, but otherwise he seemed like he lived a quiet life.

Your teacher's eyesight meeting your own caused you to stop staring finally. As a hot blush covered your cheeks once again, you quickly focused back down onto your backpack acting as though you were doing things. The room now sounded mostly quiet, and the pad of the Professors shoes echoed louder to your person.

“Miss (Y/N).” The deepness of his voice gave your spine a chill. You shyly looked up, greeting your teacher. Up close he was stunning. Gorgeous dark hair framed his face and dark full eyebrows covered his fierce brown eyes. You, however, were loving his salt and pepper speckled beard.

“Professor Reeves.” You greeted back, swallowing the intimidation. The man towered over your smaller frame, you couldn’t help but want to climb him like a tree (it’s been seven months since you last got laid. Things have gotten heated).

“It’s always refreshing to see new students.” He gave you a small grin. “You said you’ve done shows in New York? What’re you doing back here, superstar?” The man joked. The familiar hot feeling flooded your cheeks and you released a nervous chuckle, quickly casting your eyes to your shoes.

“Well- Like I said earlier: to further my education.” You managed, gathering the courage to make eye contact again. “I could ask you the same. You were a blockbuster star.” When your eyes met, butterflies erupt in your stomach again. What was it about this man that made you so horny and shy at the same time. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was saying touche.

“Well, I’d love to see your work some time.” The deep tone in his voice gave you another shiver down your spine as you kept the eye contact.

“I’d love to see yours. And, uh, then I’ll see if I have a copy somewhere. I did Phantom back in New York. Well, I was ensemble, but…” You trailed off, chuckling to cover the nervous feeling.

“Ensemble is the backbone of theater, darling.” Professor Reeves’ hand gently tapped your arm after his comment. You felt the shock of his touch and immediately made eye contact as you did so. The man must’ve felt the same, as his eyes shot to yours as well.

“I-I’d better get going.” You spoke so quietly, quickly shuffling past your teacher. However, you felt his hand linger as you pulled away. You felt as each individual finger dragged against your body before you were out of reach. That’s definitely going to help some tension releasing activities tonight.

It’s been three weeks since the first day and college isn’t too bad, you’ve come to discover. Befriending June was a good option, as you two easily got along being similar in age. You even met her son the other day after school. Plus, your classes are simple too; only taking Art and English credits was a smart decision. Drama had quickly taken place as your favorite class, however. Acting was fun, but your Professor also had taken part in your sway on the choice.

“Alright, we’re going to be doing the quick-minute scenes today, I hope you all came prepared.” The drama teacher's voice settled the rowdy crowd of students as he walked into the room. June slunk back into the chair next to you and you glanced towards the woman. She didn’t have as much performance history as you, she’d mentioned at one of your practices that she was nervous for today. You leaned over and gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder.

“Run over the lines again, it’s gonna be great.” You smiled gently. The woman pulled out the sheet you’d been using to run lines and you saw as she began to mouth the words.

Looking back towards the front of the room, you caught your teacher's eyes. He stood up by the podium, a student clearly trying to converse with him although his eyes seemed fixated towards you. Realizing you were staring in return, he quickly turned his attention back towards the student, consciously adjusting the way he was standing. You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing the smile that dared to take over and quickly cast your eyes towards the desk again.

The professor quickly got the class into order, quieting everybody down. He stood behind the stand, now facing everybody as they adjusted into their seats. The man shuffled a few papers around before looking back up and tucking some hair behind his ear. You sighed quietly, slinking further into your chair and crossing your legs. Your crush was only getting worse.

“So, before I start calling names, who’d like to present first.” Professor Reeves made a point to look directly at you. You raised your brow, shaking your head ‘No’ slowly. June would die if you two went first anyways. His eyes then moved on, looking at the other groups of students before he clicked his teeth and shrugged, choosing one of the fresh-from-highschool kids.

The kid sighed loudly, tapping his partner on the shoulder and standing up. Professor Reeves pushed the podium out of the way and to the side so the students could stand front and center.The two of them introduced themselves as Travis and Mike before jumping into it. As they started, you easily recognized the scene to be from the third Lord of The Rings installment, when Gandalf gives Pippin the speech about death.

June’s phone sitting on your table vibrated and she quickly picked it up to avoid any more distraction. You glanced over to her, watching her read the text and her expression turn more sour with each word. Furrowing your brow, you scooted your chair closer and quietly whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

The woman didn’t answer right away, instead you could see as her eyes reread the text before she finally seemed to snap to reality.

“M-My son got into trouble at daycare- I need to go. I can’t perform our presentation today.” She seemed annoyed by this but started to collect her things. I guess it was the last class of the day anyways, and you’re sure you can convince Professor Reeves to extend your scene to tomorrow.

“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out, go.” You gave her a reassuring nod and she smiled back. After gathering her things and waiting for the current group to finish, she stood up and quietly made her way to your teacher, asking to be excused. The man seemed to comply as she thanked him and quickly turned to leave, giving you a small wave and smile on the way out the door. You let your smile linger before a quiet sigh escaped.

Class proceeded normally. A few groups went before the Professor ended up calling your name. He clearly saw your partner leave, so what is he planning?

“(Y/N), why don’t you give your presentation?” His deep voice always had some sway over you. But you resisted, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Uh, my partner had an emergency and left.” You spoke, furrowing your brow. Your teacher nodded, acting as though it was new information in front of the class before he looked back at you.

“Well, maybe I can be your partner today. What were you going to perform?” The coy expression that covered his face said all it needed to. You felt the mock anger that covered the romantic feelings you felt made itself present and you let out a sigh before answering.

“Alright, well, we were going to perform an excerpt from ‘Moulin Rouge’, um, right before they burst into ‘Silly Love Songs’. I have a copy of our lines if you want.” As you spoke, you’d already gathered your copy of the sheet and made your way to the front. Ignoring the stares of your classmates was the best way to deal with your nerves, even though their eyes were burning into you like you were a demon and they were holy water. You were about to perform with your teacher, and that needed all of your focus currently. Handing over the sheet, your fingers brushed and an electric feeling coursed through your body starting from your fingertips. It gave a jolt to your heart, stuttering your breath for a moment.

“Um, June was a bit scared to do the minor singing part, so I’ll be playing Christian and you’ll be Satine.” You spoke, first looking towards the Profesor then glancing across the class. A few muttered laughs came from the immature minds humoring at the gender switch. The man let out a low chuckle himself but nodded, holding up the sheet so he could read the lines.

“Christian, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe.” Your teacher began, his eyes cast between your reaction and the paper. You quickly got into character, prepared to react.

“Yes. Silly of me, to think y-you could fall in love with someone like me.” You spoke with a sigh, feigning to be sad.

“I can’t fall in love with anyone.” The man responded with a sad chuckle, stepping closer towards your figure. You felt your heartbeat raise slightly.

“Can’t fall in love? But a life without love… That’s terrible!” You lightly exclaimed, leaning into the character more. You and June chose the movie having seen it as young girls and loving the romance of it all. Of course you ended up doing a romantic scene with Professor Reeves.

“No!” The man reacted, “Being on the street, that’s terrible.” His tone suggested he was getting defensive just as Nicole Kidman did playing the line.

“No, love is like oxygen!” You reacted again, stepping towards the man. As you got further into the scene, your nerves began melting away. The second hand feeling that came when you did act was starting to kick in. It's been a while since you last did a show, since you left New York two years ago.

“What?” He spoke, furrowing his brow. You started pacing towards him more.

“Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!” By now, you were in his face, arms spread with determination; just like you’d practiced with June.

“Please, don’t start that again.” Professor Reeves sighed, his hand placing itself on your shoulder and lightly pushing away.

“All you need is love,” You began singing softly, leaning closer to him.

“A girl has got to eat!” He exclaimed, taking a step away.

“All you need is love,” You sang again, a smile overtaking your face. Your teacher stepped back, turning away from you, really leaning into the character. You assumed he’s seen this move before by how well he was acting.

“She’ll end up on the street!” He spoke again, turning to face you again. You got up close again, capturing his hand into your own, your faces positioning closer than they should be.

“All you need is love…” You sang softly to finish off your lines, eyes connecting with your teachers. You hadn't noticed the slight wrinkle around them until now, and couldn't help the endearment that rushed your body.

“Love is just a game.” The professor didn’t sing the part like in the movie; instead he spoke it, but the emotion that line carried still was present. You were getting swept away in the intensity of the scene. His dark brown eyes stared back into your own, hinting his own feelings of lust and want. The sound of someone's chair scraping brought you back to reality and you quickly stepped away to a normal distance. Clearing your throat, you turned towards your classmates and took a quick bow before making your way back towards your table. The burning stare of your teacher's eyes into your back definitely didn’t help.

“Good job (Y/N). I’ll go ahead and give June the credit too.” Professor Reeves spoke as soon as you sat down after the class had finished clapping. You nodded towards him, trying to catch your breath from the whole situation. You wish June were here to witness that, though. She wouldn’t believe it, and to be honest, you could barely believe it either.

The library was surprisingly empty for prime studying hours, then again, it is a Friday afternoon. Most students are probably drunk right now, pregaming for the weekend, anyways. You, however, decided to study for some test in English at the library instead of going home. You didn’t really want to deal with your parents anyways. Ever since you started school, they’ve been more helicopter-y and won’t leave you alone when you’re home. They want to know everything and it’s exhausting. You honestly miss living alone. Your parents are treating you like you’re in high school again, over eleven years ago. No matter, it was nice to escape the insanity with the quiet, always warm because of the broken heater, library.

Plus, the escapism helps with distracting your brain from a certain someone. Ever since your presentation in Drama with Professor Reeves about three and a half weeks ago, you’ve been kind of avoiding him. That happening did nothing to help your crush, in fact it only made it worse. He is so handsome and you just can’t help it. His dark, lengthy hair that he often tucked behind his ear; His dark, fierce and sultry eyes that lured you in every time you caught stares. You, without a doubt, are smitten for a man whose not only an authority-ish figure in your life, but twice your age.

The acting exercises you did in class were not helpful either. You noticed he’d minorly started favoring you to play roles. Of course the students hadn’t caught on yet because he hid his favoritism so well, but you just went along with it. Secretly, you kind of wanted to see how this would play out. It’s been nearly two months since the semester started, and the spark you seemed to have acquired hasn’t fizzled.

“Miss (Y/N)? Not partying?” Professor Reeves spoke behind you. Jumping slightly, you sat up and turned around to look at the man. You already saw him in class today, well, avoided him in class today. This is like a waking nightmare to see him in a safe space. Hiding your feelings, you swallowed before answering. The look on his face was innocent, but you never know what feelings he could be hiding too.

“You scared me,” You commented before continuing, “And, uh, no. It’s not really my scene anymore.” You muttered with a chuckle, turning back towards the table. The echoed footsteps from your teacher indicated he was going to take a seat at the table you currently occupied. Sitting up, you glanced around the library as he did so, but came across nobody.

“Anymore? You look quite young.” He spoke, setting a few books down that he’d had in his grasp. You didn’t notice them before.

“I’m almost thirty, I’m not young.” You commented with a dry chuckle, finally gathering the courage to look at your teacher. He gave you a laugh, prompting you to let a smile break.

“Well, I’m in my mid-fifties so what does that say about how old I am?” He rebuttaled with humor lacing his tone. You finally broke the resistant act and chuckled, looking towards him. He gave you a soft smile in return, enjoying seeing you filled with humor. The man didn’t want to admit that he also had developed some type of emotion for you as well. Since the moment you introduced yourself he knew you were going to be an issue. Not necessarily a bad thing, just a hindrance. He’s seen a lot of students come and go over the years he’s been teaching, but you’re the first one that’s captivated his eye, ever.

“Right, sorry.” You laughed, looking back towards the notes you’d been writing on. The two of you fell into a silence before your teacher spoke up.

“Hey, are you okay? It seems as though you’ve been avoiding me... If I’m overstepping as your teacher let me know-” The deep voice of your teacher has gone quiet, you knew he wanted to keep this private.

“No- No… You’re right.” You cut him off, sighing and rubbing your temple quietly. “I, uh, I have been.” The silence of your teacher caused you to look up at him. It was kind of strange to be having such a candid conversation with this man, though he’s just like any other human on earth.

“Well, may I ask why?” He asked quietly, almost sounding hurt from your choices. You nodded hesitantly before proceeding. Were you about to admit your feelings? Can you even do that? Is it even legal for faculty and students to date? Well, that is if you even date.

“Ever since our... well my presentation… There's been this weird energy between us and I honestly don't know how to react.” Your voice remained quiet as you spoke and your eyes kept pointed towards the table. Though, you could feel Professor Reeves’ eyes boring into the side of your face.

“(Y/N)...” The voice of your teacher caught your attention and you looked up. His eyes glanced around the room before he stood up in one quick motion. The towering height of the man was slightly intimidating, however he leaned over swiftly, capturing your face with both of his hands and connecting your lips.

Fireworks. Explosions. Electricity.

These were all the words you could use to describe the way his lips melded perfectly with your own. His stubble scratched your chin and upper lip so wonderfully and his hands help your face gently.

The man was the first to break the kiss, as you could've stayed there forever. He parted and stayed only an inch or two away from your face, however.

“Wow,” You softly breathed, feeling your body physically relax. A slight giggle escaped your throat as you did so. The man smiled back, gleeful from the event that just occurred.

“I've been wanting to do that since the first day.” He spoke hushedly. You captured his lips once again before quickly shoving your things into your backpack. If things were going to escalate, there was no better time. You cast your eyes up to his, staring through your lashes hinting at the lust you were feeling.

“The drama room, now.” You rushed, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You felt your teacher's body heat behind your figure as the two of you quickly, but trying their best to remain inconspicuous, made your way across campus to the Arts building.

Your teacher shoved open the door, his hand hooking onto your backpack and pulling you in. He swiftly shoved the door closed and locked it shut, making sure it was actually locked. You quickly rushed towards an old prop couch in the back corner of the room, tossing your bag and jacket off. You heard your teacher's footsteps quickly follow and the heat of his hands as he grabbed your arm, flipping you around and shoving you back onto the couch. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him down on top of your figure as you fell. Your bodies felt electric causing your heart to beat faster.

His eyes glanced down at your chest gazing delightfully at your cleavage. It only gave you confidence as you tangled your fingers into his dark locks, pulling your lips together. His hands then moved and melded firm on your ass, as he didn’t want you to get away. The scratch of his beard only added pain to the pleasure, enhancing the overall experience. Your hands found their way to Professor Reeves’ jeans; slyly unbuckling his belt and with one motion undoing his button as well. Your hand began to explore, finding his member semi hard and still tucked away behind his underwear. You gently began to rub over the cloth, prompting the man to moan quietly into your kiss.

In the meantime, the man's hands found their way to the zipper of your pants, he’d managed to unzip it entirely and then shifted his hands to unclip your bra through your top. You broke the kiss while he sat up slightly and pulled the apparel off, freeing your legs and top, leaving you in panties and a bra.

“Jesus, you are… breathtaking.” He muttered, eyes scanning your figure up and down. You felt the self-conscious feelings start to fill your brain and subconsciously hid your figure. Professor Reeves’ large hands grasped your arm, however, and kept you from hiding your gorgeous body.

The man’s mouth was swift to latch onto the swell of your breast, intending to mark the flesh. His fingers gently latched onto your bra, exposing your breast more. He gently kissed down the skin before his tongue swirled your nipple, occasionally flicking it with the muscle. The sensation only fueled your fire down south, and you quickly gathered the courage to gently slide your hands underneath his underwear. Your hand first met the feeling of pubes as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, beginning to pump slowly.

Professor Reeves carefully maneuvered his shirt off his body, tossing it somewhere in the classroom. You admired his body; he was slightly toned on his chest, however his shoulders and arms were more defined. He donned a small patch of chest hair, and a dark happy trail that led to a nice patch of dark pubic hair. His hair was messy, and he combed his fingers through, desperate to remove the strands from his eyes.

The man now stood up on his knees, quickly shucking off his pants and underwear leaving him completely nude. After that, You took the moment to ogle him and come to the reality that you're about to sleep with your teacher. This is a good idea, yeah?

Professor Reeves linked his fingers into the sides of your panties, gliding them down and off your legs all while staring at you through his lashes and fallen hair. Afterwards, his fingers gently made their way to your heat, fingers toying and exploring, eyes gazing you up and down. He bit his lip, as a single digit ran up your slit, hitting your clit at the end of it’s journey. You squirmed and gasped at the sudden sensation, earning a whisper of praise from your teacher. He redid the motion, this time with two fingers. You reacted the same, a squeal and squirm, gripping your hand onto his thigh.

“Darling, so wet for me already.” He commented, voice heavy. “How would you feel I…” He trailed off, slinking down and scooting back until his head came level with your stomach. With the last word escaping his lips, he kissed around your navel, working his way further and further down until a light kiss peppered your clit. Your hands flew to the man's head immediately tangling themselves within his long hair. He took this as an eager invitation, and began to suck your clit with excitement. One of his free hands worked its way up and began to twist your nipple gently. The sensitivity of your body caused you to moan and tighten your grip on the man's hair. His free hand left your nipple and moved down to your vagina. He continued to lick and flick your clit with his tongue as he slowly inserted a single digit. You tightened around his finger, enjoying the feeling of it all as he began to finger you carefully.

“Oh, Professor,” A breathy moan left your lips. The man’s reaction was to finger you faster while he sucked your clit harder. His beard rubbing against your inner thigh felt so wonderful, and you nearly suffocated the man between your legs. The teacher began to move his fingers skillfully. He kept tapping your g-spot as he did so, earning even louder cries of pleasure from you. He could tell you were getting close, as you kept tightening around his fingers and were basically giving him a head massage. He gently pulled them out, and gave one last sweet kiss to your clit before sitting up on his knees again. His dick was now fully hard and he nonchalantly touched himself, scooting closer to your position.

You sat up a little, reaching out to grab his member. Your hand replaced his and you switched positions once again, landing you on top. You moved your hair from your face and leaned your head down so your lips were just above his cock. You gently licked the tip, earning a shudder from the teacher. One of your hands gently rubbed your clit while the other held you up as you sucked the bass player off. Your tongue swirled around his member and you bobbed your head, making sure to keep your mouth as airtight as possible. He kept releasing delightful moans, occasionally letting his hand hold your head or fix your hair. He even used it to guide your bobs, keeping you on beat.

“Oh, love,” The man breathed. You cast your gaze up to his face, making sure to stay within rhythm. His eyes were turned dark from lust as he watched your pretty mouth circle his cock. You then stopped playing with yourself and used that hand to rub him while sucking. His moans only increased and became more frequent with each nod. You finally popped off, finishing with a few kisses around his navel. You wiped the corners of your mouth with a slight grin, sitting back on your knees. The man was only harder now, periodically causing his member to twitch from need. You lazily jerked him with one of your hands as you straddled his lap again, placing you into the cowgirl position. You lined yourself up with him, your entrance just barely touching his tip.

Professor Reeves gently placed his hands onto your hips, guiding you down onto his cock. You instantly moaned; his hard member filled you so perfectly as you sat down on him, giving you the warm feeling deep in your stomach. The man’s hand stayed firm on your hips as he began to help you bounce up and down on his dick. He even began to thrust up, only resulting in his member going deeper and harder in you.

Each ram seemed to make his hard cock find your g-spot perfectly. Your stomach kept twisting with every thrust, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. The teacher kept averting his gaze between your face and breasts while you fucked, enjoying the bounce of your figure. When you were able to, you would look into his eyes showing you how much you were enjoying him.

Professor Reeves surprised you by wrapping his arms tightly around your bum, trapping his cock in your pussy as he lifted and laid you on your back again. He then began to thrust more rapid than you'd ever been handled before. Slaps of sweaty skin echoed around the room but you didn’t care at all in the throes of pleasure. You moaned loudly, the Professor as well, only fueling both of your satisfaction. One of his hands found its way to your clit and he began to rub with his thumb. Swirling sensations began to fill your tummy, prompting louder moans. The deep warm feeling before orgasm began to fill each of your limbs.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You moaned, opening your eyes long enough to see your teacher's reaction.

“Darling, cum for me.” He raised his eyebrows in bliss, immediately rubbing your clit faster and harder. In response you tightened around his cock as he thrust, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. The pressure was building fast and before you knew it, an orgasm overtook your entire body. You wrapped your legs around the man's back, trapping him deep within you. He let out a pleasure filled gasp as his thrusts became staggard. You could feel his cock throbbing in you as he collapsed and lay with his head snug in your neck. You both lay still, but breathed heavily trying to recover from the incredible orgasm you both just experienced.

Professor Reeves slowly sat up and pulled himself out of you, wincing from how sensitive he was. You felt his hot cum slowly drip out of your pussy, but you didn’t care. The man groaned as he laid down next to you, now both of you laying on the couch, you tucked into his side.

“That was everything I imagined it to be.” The Professor commented after a few moments of silence. You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you turned on your side to face the dark haired man.

“I don't even know your name, Professor. You’d think I would've figured it out by now…” You trailed off, studying the man’s face. His eyes caught yours and he let out a short chuckle.

“I keep it hidden… for reasons.” He trailed off, mindlessly playing with a section of your hair.

“June told me you used to be a Hollywood actor. I never did a google deep dive to respect your past and, well, you. I wanted to ask you about it instead.” You cast your eyes towards his chest and mindlessly drew shapes with your fingers.

“It’s Keanu.” His voice was quiet, scanning your face for a reaction. You gave him a soft grin, looking up to meet his gaze.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You spoke in a whisper. He kissed the top of your head as a response, holding your figure tighter. It felt nice to be held by someone again. Keanu was the perfect man for that. Ever since the first day of class he’s made you feel safe. Most encounters with men haven't been pleasant, especially as a female actress.

“So, when are you going to show me the tapes of your shows?” Your teacher's deep voice gave you goosebumps, and you let out a short chuckle, sitting up and reaching for your bra. In the odd chance anyone was the show up, you wanted to be dressed.

“When you show me your movies.” You responded cheekily, eyes turning to give the man a wink. He let out a laugh as his large hand landed on your still exposed back, rubbing gently and avoiding your bra straps.

“I remember a certain lady telling me she started in and has a copy of Phantom, and it was mine.” He smirked, sitting up as well and pulling his clothing back on. You shook your head, laughter leaving your lips.

“How about this, over the course of the semester we…” You paused, eyeing the tall man up and down, “Keep whatever this is going on.” You paused for effect, “And once in a while we’ll watch one of our shows. Deal?” It appeared as though Keanu was thinking for a few moments before he answered.

“Deal.”

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu x you #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves fan fic

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 4 years

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There’s More To Her #6

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Preparing a Date

Twenty four hours after Akash's grand declaration of a first date, Akash found himself in his brother's cabin as the latter looked flipped through lookbooks.

"Pathetic," Arnav murmured, mentally listing out the fifth set of people to be fired. The new designs were not only unambitious, they were an exact replica of Sabyasachi's fall bridal collection. Clearly he was hiring the wrong people off late.

Akash made himself industrious, pacing left to right within the circular walls of Arnav's cabin.

"Akash, if you were to exercise in silence, may I know what you're doing in my cabin?" Arnav murmured, without looking up from the photographs. Akash sat in front of Arnav, shutting the files close.

"What the-"

"It's my first date."

---

"I know Khushi, you are forgetting that I was present when Akash ji asked me out for a date." Payal mused. Somehow Khushi was more excited than Payal for her own date. Out of happiness Khushi had cooked an extra batch of jalebis and given them off for free in the morning at the store and ended up retelling a story instead of tutoring the kids.

Khushi kept the money box aside and climbed up on the bed next to Payal. She grabbed her sister's hands and squealed.

"I know Jiji, but this is like a romantic picture." Khushi sighed, lying her head on Payal's lap, "But not like a Hindi film, more like those English ones!" She said. Payal chuckled and tapped Khushi's head. Khushi got up and frowned.

"What Jiji, aren't you even a bit excited?" Payal could only blush in response, "Oh ho, I see..." Khushi giggled.

"Shut up. But Khushi, you've seen more films than me and you also know more about all this romance shomance than me. Where should the first date be?" Payal asked.

"Why should you decide that? According to the first laws of Hindi cinema dating, Akash ji should worry where to take you out!" Khushi proclaimed.

"And that is the problem Bhai, where do I take Payal?" Akash asked. Arnav took his file back from Akash.

"Why are you asking me, do you have to get married to Payal or me?" Arnav shrugged. Akash rolled his eyes and took the file away from Arnav, again.

"Bhai, obviously I want to marry her. But I'm asking you because you have more experience with dating and-" Arnav raised an eyebrow, daring Akash to speak about love, "-I mean, Bhai, where do I take her for the perfect experience?"

"All right, let me stop you there." Arnav sighed, "First thing, don't strive for perfection. Relationships need to be based on effectiveness and common grounds. If you try too hard, or too differently, you'll be telling Payal a whole different story about you. Then don't come running to me that you guys are having compatibility issues because you're the one giving her false impressions in the first place."

Akash stared at his brother. This was the longest he had ever spoken to him, and this includes their childhood.

"So do you think I should ask Payal for advice?" Akash asked.

Arnav struggled between palming his face and gawking at his brother.

"So you want to ask Payal, where to take her, as a surprise, to her first date?" Akash nodded, completely missing Arnav's point.

"Khushi! Ab kya?" Payal stared at Akash's text message.

"What? What!" Khushi gasped, the second 'what' dedicated to the message on Payal's phone. Akash had... asked Payal where she wants to be taken on a first date that should be a surprise?

"Hey Devi Maiya, by living with his brother Akash ji has also become like him!" Khushi grumbled.

She turned to Payal and grabbed her shoulders, shaking the bashful smile off Payal's face, "Jiji, the second rule of dating is that the first date should be a surprise! S-U-R-P-R-I-S-E! Now if you do all the planning with him, then who will be surprised? Me! Arnav ji?" Khushi wailed.

"Actually it's not a bad idea. If we both plan together then it'll be just the way we want it to be. And we can also learn many things about each other." Payal said, unaware of Khushi's sinking heart.

To her agony, Payal and Akash were derailing from her epic Hindi-film romance. They left Hollywood right about when Akash messaged her.

"Terrific idea Jiji," Khushi threw her hands in the air, her anger lost on an optimistic Payal.

"Excellent." Arnav deadpanned on seeing the text message that Akash sent Payal.

"Thank you Bhai," Akash smiled. Arnav pinched between his brows. Of course, Akash wouldn't get sarcasm. For all the maturity in the world, his brother was quickly turning into a lost cause in the case of dating.

"Nevermind," Arnav took a deep breath and addressed Akash, "What's the most important place for the both of you?"

Akash answered without missing a beat.

"Lakshmi Nagar bazaar."

"WHAT?" Khushi choked on her jalebi, staring at her moon eyed sister.

"What what? That's where it all happened. We first met, he bought my dupatta, vegetables - potatoes! - a diya, all from this market." Payal murmured, her cheeks red as she recalled her favorite moments.

Khushi, on the other hand, clutched her heart in pain. This was worse than she expected.

"Jiji, your whole love story happened in Lakshmi Nagar bazaar?" Khushi asked.

"Nahi-" Khushi breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank-"

"It also happened in Happy Ji's garage."

"What the fu- garage?" Arnav winced in distaste. Akash nodded, smiling his thirty two pearly whites. Of course, recreating Akash and Payal's first moments for their first date was out of the question.

"Why are you so surprised? Where else could it be?" Akash asked.

"Anywhere, abandoned buildings, your car, this office or let's make this easy... house - yours or hers!"

"Really?" Payal scoffed.

"Yes Jiji, now you and Akash ji can't hold a candlelit dinner at a vegetable stall, right?" Khushi explained, as if she were speaking to a five years old kid and not a sister who was older to her by five years.

"And you both can't have your first date in his house, nor in ours - unless you want Bua ji's presence." Khushi ducked the pillow Payal threw her way.

"So, according to you the mandir, dargah, pedh, jungle or dhaba is the place for a first date?" Payal asked.

"Haven't you heard? Jungle main mangal? And you even met Akash ji in the mandir and by the tree in Ber Sarai." Khushi smiled.

"Khushi, Akash and I are to meet for our first date, not head to our pilgrimage." Payal shot back.

"Kya Jiji!"

"Bhai, are you serious?" Akash asked.

"Have I ever been anything else?" Arnav countered. True, Arnav was infamous for his seriousness. Yet, he was equally infamous for his humor and one wouldn't ever know if Arnav was cutting a joke with him or at his expense.

"You think I should take Payal home, or to this office... or an abandoned building for our date?" Akash chuckled.

"Better than a market." Arnav stated.

"I think I should call Khushi ji, she knows Payal and above all, she has more EQ than both of us combined." Akash stood and pulled out his phone. Arnav ignored him and sat back in his seat to review the designs for the next calendar shoot.

Akash turned and assessed his brother for a quick second. No one could say that ten seconds ago Arnav was between laughing and exploding on learning about Akash's unconventional trips to see Payal.

"Bhai, I think you're the one who's weird." Arnav graced his statement with narrowed eyes.

"Why would anyone associate romance to abandoned buildings?" If Akash had not turned away to call Khushi, he would not have missed the look of pure terror and agony flit across his brother's face.

Of course Akash wouldn't understand. He wasn't in the guesthouse, pressed against the woman who had thunderous eyes and the softest lips. He wasn't the one struck by lightning. Subconsciously Arnav grazed the flesh of his palm where her broken bangle had pierced through. Agony gave way to denial, and Arnav reached out for his files, flipping through them without seeing them.

"Khushi, you're really Sanka Devi! Do you think that this is Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak? That we'll go to the jungle, get lost-"

"-How romantic!" Khushi gleed, already imagining the imaginary songs her sister and potential brother in law would dance to. That is, if Akash and Payal would move beyond practically figuring out how to get out of the jungle.

"Yeah, and all I need is for Akash to fight some goons for me?" Payal drawled, having suffered several cheesy hindi films with Khushi, "And he and I have to pretend we're husband and wife, right? There goes our first date-."

In our fight we seemed to have forgotten that today we got married. Khushi stiffened, her mind assailing with several memories. Khushi, are you ok? To her horror, each memory had grown fonder in time.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, her words devoid of all the joy.

"Aur kya, if this isn't your typical Salman, Aaamir or any Khan love story then what is it?" Payal chuckled, tidying up the bedroom.

"So this can't happen in reality?" Payal paused at her question and sat next to Khushi. Her little sister still seemed to believe in the stories. Her face was crestfallen and Payal mentally smacked herself. She put a pillow on her lap and put Khushi's head down.

"You know, maybe it can," Payal smiled, in a soft, sing-song tone and gently played with Khushi's hair. Khushi gripped on the blanket, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.

"And you know what, the day we see a couple like this we'll get them married, deal-" Khushi shot up from Payal's lap. Payal's smile fell at Khushi's horrified face. She gently cupped Khushi's cheek.

"Khushi, what happened?" Never had Payal seen Khushi so terrified. A sister before a lover, Payal's focus shifted rapidly from her own date to Khushi's engagement.

"Chutki," - an endearment Payal only used to soothe Khushi's darkest fears - "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Khushi choked out and to her luck, her phone rang at the exact moment, stopping Payal from digging further.

"Ji Akash ji," Payal watched as Khushi's smile fell into place. As days passed it was getting more difficult for Payal to realise when Khushi smiled, versus when she was happy.

Nowadays there seemed to be a difference between the two.

---

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you liked this update! Thank you for all the notes <3 This story will bite the dust in not two but more (hence I should never promise story lengths!) but I’m really looking forward to your notes!

Thank you for your time and for reading. Don’t hesitate to chat - I love to speak!

Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak is a classic Hindi 90s romantic film where the leads get lost in the jungle - much like our dear Arnav and Khushi.

Love,

P.S: Also read it on: Wattpad

#ipkknd ff #ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #Arshi ff #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #Akash & Payal #fanfiction #There's more to her

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ziracona · 4 years

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The tendency in fandom to take every white girl with short hair, regardless of the status of their canonical interest or lack of interest in women and explicit interest and/or sexual history with everything but, proclaim them a lesbian queen, and then ignore or absolve them of every single horrific act they take in fiction because of this. Is not doing feminism. Women. Lesbians. Or anyone. Any favors. It’s just bad.

Somehow. Some people really do apparently need to hear that...being any specific sexuality...is not a personality trait.

And also. Women aren’t inherantly less vile than men (or anyone non-binary, agender, fluid, etc, else), and whatever bad deeds they do should be judged based on just that—on the deeds, and their context. Not their sexuality, imagined sexuality, or their gender. Becuase none of those things effect whether committing murder is bad. At all. Not even a little. And none of them. Is even a personality trait. Affecting the character’s value as a person.

It’s cool, and good, to see characters with minority identities. And it’s real nice. When it’s whatever you are. But them being whatever. Is not a personality trait. Just a fact. And sometimes. People of any type. Are not good. Pretending any minority status—gender, sexuality, race, disability, neurotype, etc—is a get out of jail free card? Is not. Doing them. Or anyone. Any favors. Personality disorder. Doesn’t make you bad. Also doesn’t make you good. Your actions do. Acting like Amy from Gone Girl did nothing wrong when she date rapes her boyfriend & then frames him for doing that to her & ruins his life, then blackmails her husband who is terrified of being murdered by her into staying with her for the sake of the child she made at a fertility clinic with his sperm without his consent, bc she’s a woman. Isn’t good. Men aren’t more deserving of violence than women. Neither is anyone else. Jane. Left an infant child in an unheated car in subzero weather in a snow storm with zombies around that easily would hear it cry and go eat it. So she could lie and say she already let zombies eat it to bait a man with easily triggerable PTSD who had just lost his family to zombies for the second time into starting a fight. Because he was injured, unarmed, weak, down an eye, and 50, while she was fit, mid 20s, healthy, and armed with a hunting knife. Because she wanted an excuse to kill him without looking bad, because she wanted the 11 year old girl she was co-parenting with him, all to herself. And her immediately responding to the dude throwing a punch by stabbing him in the stomach to escalate the fight from brawl to life or death, then losing her knife, and instead of telling him the baby was alive & she’d made it up to start a fight which could have at any point ended the fight, begging the 11 year old child to gun down her oldest surviving friend with her own hands in cold blood so that she’d get what she wanted? Is evil. As is crying on the 11 year old and using pity as a weapon to get her to stay with her if she gets mad and wants to leave when she realizes Jane staged the whole thing for an excuse to murder, and so is after realizing like a month later that she is pregnant, committing suicide, and leaving the 11 year old that she just manipulated into killing her oldest surviving friend/completely isolated on purpose so she could have her to herself, totally alone in the apocalypse to care for an infant. Jennifer’s Body? Is a fantastic film. And Jennifer didn’t deserve any of what happened to her. But not one single boy she kills during the course of that film deserved it—and explicitly so. Even the guy who could easily have been a meathead jock bully is outside alone crying becuase his best friend just died and he loved him before she decides to lure him off and eat him alive. And acting like it’s totally fine & Needy should have just let her keep eating boys instead of killing her? Is fucked up. None of them deserved to die. And no one deserves death innately more because they are or are not something that is just a factual designator of their makeup as a human. The exchange student was scared and alone and nice, the catholic kid was sweet and Needy’s friend, Chip is a bad boyfriend but he meant well and being stupid doesn’t mean you deserve to die. And this girl ate them alive. That’s not funny. Or cool. Or fine becuase they were dudes. Gertrude Robinson? Chose again and again to betray people who loved her, or trusted her—sold out victims of awful trauma to their worst nightmares. Killed friends in the worst possible ways, like it was nothing. Michael loved her, and trusted her, and tried to care for her, and she without faltering fed him to his worst nightmare and forced him to become it. There is nothing excusable about that action.

Jude Perry? Has 0 redeeming features. Didn’t even stay faithful to her poor gf & was creepy obsessed w Agnes. Literally murdered her co-worker friend just because he was happy, and she wanted to destroy things: that’s it. She didn’t even dislike him. Murdered him because he had a wife and kid and house and it seemed fun, then burned down his house, took his wife’s money, and now checks in on his kid every so often in case he ever recovers from the trauma she inflicted enough to be fun to kill. There is literally nothing good about this woman. Yes. I mean that. Because being a lesbian? Is just a thing. There is no g/b tag, there is no tag at all. Amanda Young? Got kidnapped and tortured and forced to choose between killing a man who couldn’t resist but was conscious to watch her, and letting herself die, and she killed him. Then, instead of responding to that trauma with guilt or responsibility or anger at her captor, joined up with him and started helping him kidnap people just like her. She was not forced, she was not lied to. It does not matter if John was manipulative; she is a grown ass woman and like all grown ass adults, responsible for her own actions and choices. She did not get manipulated pitifully into this—she did not go unwillingly. She volunteered, with a happy vengeance, became obsessed with John and in love with him, despite his complete lack of interest. And she did not even just do what he did. She decided on her own that no one deserved redemption, & she killed them for fun in traps that wouldn’t let them go even if they did whatever awful thing the trap demanded as a price for life, just for the fun and power trip of watching them die helpless & in agony. That was all her, & her alone. She sat in a house full of people slowly dying from organ decomposition over the course of a few hours, for no crime worse than drug addiction—the thing she of all people should have been most sympathetic to—knowing full well at any time she could have saved them and stopped the game, and did nothing. She held a woman in her arms and stroked her head lovingly while she let her die in one of the most inhumane ways possible for the crime of having not been able to break an addition. She got saved by a 16 year old child multiple times, who had done nothing more than shoplift, and stood by while he had to watch a man get his brains blown out, another burn to death in an oven. As his organs slowly dissolved too. Watched the kid kill another human being & massively traumatize himself to save her life. And responded to that by attacking & knocking him out, tying him up, locking him up for days in a tiny safe bound and gagged with an oxygen supply to keep him alive, to be a piece in another game. Left his father, who had shown up to try & save him, to starve to death in chains in a horrible abandoned rotting room, & never even told him his son was alive. Let every other addict die horribly, let that kid sustain permanent damage to his organs that will kill him young, antidote taken or not, took his dad from him, & went back to torturing without a second thought. Kidnapped a woman whose worst crime was being a doctor & dating someone while maybe separated instead of divorced from her husband, put her in a trap that would take her head off with shotgun blasts, threatened her for fun, & then killed her even after she did everything she was asked, because it was more important to her that the old man she was obsessed with think she was special and great, than for the other woman to get to stay alive another day & go home to her daughter. There is nothing sympathetic about Amanda. She’s just not only evil, but too spineless to take responsibility for her own choices & actions, & tries to hide behind a “UwU I am sad & lonely & damaged & having trauma means I can literally torture people to death to feel special & it’s really tragic and sympathetic about me, not evil. Uhm. Some people??? Commit torture-murders?? To cope??” And acting like she’s somehow a victim in this becuase she is a pretty white girl with short hair? Is fucked. Up.

But every. God damn. Time. I see this. Please. It needs. To stop. People go: “UwU pretty girl short hair want” & I go “Ok. I see where u. Come from. Indeed.” But then. They go. “Girl pretty I like. So she was blameless. For this atrocity.” Those words...

Every day. I wake up. Thinking of Janic saying. Iconically. “At least me and Regina George know we’re mean,” and I weep inside. Because I cannot fathom. Or stomach. The lack of responsibility. I will kill. Characters who cannot admit they are bad. Myself. But somehow. They become. Flames. To moths. Of the “UwU pretty white girl short hair. We stan. Victim. Queen. Love her. Never done wrong.” Boy. We all done wrong. Even all my faves. At least once. I think. ...not if we count dogs probably, but people, yes. Ok. Anyway. All this is to say. Characters. Should be judged. Based on what they did. And why. And the aftermath. Not a grouping tag. I don’t mean any of these. Make bad characters. At all. Amy is a great character. So is Jennifer. So are most of them. I have quite affection even. For Jeneffer specifically. But you can like. Character. Without proclaiming. Them perfect humans. Who never did a thing wrong. Or their acts somehow. Justifiable. And ok. And you better stop saying. Ok. Because done. To men. Men do not. Deserve violence. Any more. Than anyone else. No one deserves violence defacto for factors. Outside their control. Wtf. Really people. It’s ok too. For character. To do much bad stuff. And still like character. Villains. And often just complex characters. Sometimes just characters. Do stuff. That is bad. It’s not supposed to be not their fault. Or ok. Also. Women are not a sisterhood. Of flawless beings. Who never hurt anyone or do any bad stuff. They can. And are. Often purpotrators. Of awful acts. And when they are. It is still. Very bad. Still. An awful act. Same level. Even. Of awful. Wild.

In conclusion.

Having short hair. While a girl. Doesn’t make her a butch queen. Who is absolved of all responsibility for that murder she committed. It just makes her a girl with short hair. That did a murder. I’m gonna. Kill someone. Too. And if I chop my hair off. I guess I can get away with it.

#personal #*dances wildly to abba music while delivering speech*#some of you all apparently really need a girl to come fuck up your life bc the lengths to which some of y’all so devotedly seem to believe #women are less evil is astronomical. and let me tell you. from personal experience? a girl can ruin your life. just as easily. and with as #little pity. guilt. remorse. or afterthought. as a man. and it aint any more ok. & you know what? so can a fluid person. or a nonbinary #person. legit anyone. can be bad. or good. and do bad. or good. theyre not defacto worse for coming from X starting point. and theyre also.#OuO not. better.#not everyone who likes or is sympathetic to these specific characters even be like that either like u know what? its possible to both be #sypathetic to a character & not excuse & atand their actions. I like & feel bad for Jennifer. a lot. one of my bros in college loved Jane #from twdg. Not bc she thought it was totally fine she’d been super evil though. its *dances* not that hard actually #also nothin against lovin evil lady characters or evil characters in general. just me or anyone else loving them does nothing to make their #evil deeds suddely ok or vanish into the mist #people have some real trouble w nuance huh. folks like a character & assume that means stanning everything theyve ever done. hate a charactr #and suddenly forget how to factor any outside factors into their view of said person’s actions. its a wild bad ride yo #like i get it. im a girl & ive had plenty of men ruin my life i truly get it. but is there anything truly more detrimental to feminism & to #just treating people decent in general than the WomenDoNoWrong mindset & apologism thrown up like its actually a decent counter t patriarchy #? probably actually yeah im sure there are worse. but its still REALLY not good!! feminism is just a stance that all people deserve equal #treatment & an investment in pursuing that reality. if youre excusing people of horrible actions bc girl & treating violence against non-#women as fine youre not a feminist u actually just suck generally as a person #i also lose my mind how half the characters i see get this treatment aint even lesbians & often explicitly like men yet get both assigned #that & treated like that sexuality is a hall pass for human rights violations. im dyin #this entire thought rant was prompted by reading a post earlier today about bi-phobia & gettin mad about how bi people get treated idk how #spagheti brain exactly went there to here so /fast/ but anyway. same brand of problematic. & i am v tired :] of this :] specifically :]#every time i see that post abt women killers in horror i am like ‘OP hiw are your points so good but all your examples so /terrible/.’ rip #i guess this is just life. and i feel excessively better after screaming jnto the void of my blog #also i get it gertrude robinson wanted to stop the apocalypse but fuck gertrude robinson she has no excuse. nothing could justify what she #did to people who loved her. and shes a well written and layered character whonisnt like just pure evil but she is VERY bad and i WILL kill #her (again) myself if given the chance & i have every right to.#spoilers #again. great charcters. amanda an iconic saw villain. gertrude fascinating. etc. but also. they be doing mad evil deeds & tis not ok

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moodyvalentinestories · 4 years

Text

Direction – Three | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Thomas and Danielle reminisce about the past and make a deal.

Words: 1800+

Notes: Y’all, remember when I was writing Wherefore Art Thou My Professor? and thought it was an absolute trainwreck? I think I’ve found its worthy successor because this is so much worse (in the best way, if you ask me). I keep getting hella sidetracked and even though I know how it’s gonna end, I have NO IDEA what my brain decides to do with the middle part. So stay tuned, I guess.

❥ Previous Parts: Prologue | One | Two ❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

Danielle was almost certain that Hunt would freak upon seeing her collection of photos from her time at Hollywood U. He wasn’t in all of them – not even half of them, really – but she did have quite a few pictures of him. Nonetheless, she felt like she at least owed it to him to let him see them. “Okay. I’ll get my laptop,” she said and got up from her chair.

“Please tell me you did not store them online,” Hunt replied, rather condescendingly.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, no, I saved them to the most easily hackable cloud I could find. Jesus, Hunt, the ones you’re worried about are all safely stored on an encrypted flash drive. Stop assuming the worst of me for two seconds, would you?”

He mumbled something she didn’t understand – and she was sure that was for the better – while she retrieved her laptop and the flash drive.

“You’ll have to promise me not to tell a soul about the things you may see on this,” Danielle said when she returned, and Hunt raised an eyebrow.

“What exactly am I going to see?” he asked.

She shrugged as she plugged the drive into her laptop. “I’m not sure. I’ll try not to show you any things that don’t concern you, but these are pretty much all the photos I’ve bought off paparazzi that some people might not want to see published.”

“I didn’t know you did that,” Hunt remarked while she unlocked the flash drive.

Danielle chuckled. “What, you thought I needed you to save my ass all the time? You know, I try to learn from my mistakes.”

“Could have fooled me,” he huffed.

“Do you want to see the pictures or not? I know I fucked up, you don’t have to remind me,” she said and got up. “Scoot over. I’m not letting you go through them alone.”

Hunt reluctantly did as she told him, and she sat down on the sofa, closer than he probably would have liked her to be. But there were things on there she certainly did not want him to see.

There were several folders on Danielle’s flash drive, and though Thomas didn’t have a chance to get a good look at them before she’d clicked on the one titled Centaurus Lost, he had a fairly decent idea of just how many people’s photographs she had kept out of the press – and therefore just how many people she could have under her thumb, were she ever to stoop to Montmartre’s level.

One of the folders he had seen was titled Chris, which should have been the least surprising as Danielle and Chris Winters had dated for some years during her time at the university, but considering the images Thomas had seen of the two in magazines, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what could be found inside. The other folders, as far as he could tell from the short glimpse he’d caught of them, all bore the names of either projects she’d worked on – such as Centaurus Lost – or of her friends. And, all of a sudden, Thomas had to re-evaluate what he knew of Danielle.

That she had kept so much from being leaked to the public was admirable, but the fact that she had kept everything was certainly cause for concern. Perhaps she truly was capable of worse than he’d thought.

“Most of these aren’t pictures of you,” Danielle said once the contents of the folder – multiple hundreds of images – had fully loaded. “In fact, almost all of them are of Holly and Mike. I’m actually quite surprised by how many I could get, considering the whole thing with May.”

Thomas simply nodded along, beginning to feel somewhat uneasy. Many of the photographs of Tanner and Holly could have very well been used to support May Gordon’s narrative, had she ever got her hands on it. It made sense, of course, that Danielle would have wanted to keep them from being leaked at the time, seeing as it was her film as well, but now… now she could very well release them, and likely make good money speaking about everything that happened behind the scenes. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what she could do with whatever images she had of him.

She would be able to spin a pretty story, he was sure of it, and come out unscathed, while he… well, considering that many a despicable Hollywood giant got what they deserved these days, he was sure he could easily be lumped in with the lot of them, and his career – or what was left of it – would be over.

Because Thomas knew he’d made some questionable decisions while working with Danielle, and though they had never quite become friends – or, God forbid, more than friends – they had been closer than they probably should have been during that time, and he was certain the photos she had reflected that.

“How many are there?” he eventually asked while Danielle was scrolling through the images to find the ones they were looking for.

“Potentially incriminating ones? Two or three, I would say,” she said nonchalantly, which did nothing to alleviate his concerns.

Had she perhaps been lying again? Had she given the photographs to Montmartre after all? She’d seemed upset before, but she was an actress, and as much as Thomas believed he was skilled enough at reading people to tell whether or not they were putting on an act… Danielle was Danielle.

“And how many overall?”

She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “We worked together quite closely on the daily. What do you think?” With a shake of her head, she turned back to the screen and said, “Ah, here they are. See for yourself.”

Danielle clicked on the first file and a picture of her and Thomas walking out of the studio together just before dawn filled the screen. That, he imagined, would have been one of the two or three problematic ones – at least in combination with the ones Montmartre already had.

“I remember that night,” Thomas said involuntarily. He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, but he knew it wasn’t that, and it most certainly wasn’t supposed to come out the way it did – as if it was a fond memory.

Danielle smiled at that. “So do I. I think it was the first time we managed not to yell at each other for more than two hours.”

“If I recall correctly, you almost ruined the peace by finishing off my Scotch without asking me,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to reminisce about photographs he was worried could be used as blackmail material.

“You ate my snacks first. It was only fair,” Danielle countered, then let out a sigh. “God, that seems like so long ago.”

Thomas had to agree, though it really hadn’t been. It had to have been just over a year and a half, and yet it felt like an eternity. He didn’t say that, though, and just remained silent as Danielle began clicking through the images.

Most of them were harmless – the two of them at work, several obvious disagreements, or just a conversation – but then there was another one from a late night. It had clearly been shot through a window and showed Thomas and Danielle in an embrace that, to an outsider, would most certainly not look appropriate for a professor and a student.

“You should…” Thomas began, then trailed off. He remembered that night, too. It had been one of the last nights before filming – and therefore their working relationship – had ended. They’d officially made peace then, promising to respect each other as they hadn’t before they’d started working together. Needless to say, that hadn’t worked out. Thomas cleared his throat. “You should probably delete this one.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head. “I promise, no one will get their hands on this. Dean knows his stuff; he’s made sure it’s safe, and nobody knows where I store this. I swear—”

“Danielle,” Thomas said quietly and much more softly than he had intended.

Chewing her lip in that way she always did when she was nervous, she regarded him for a moment more, then looked back to the image on screen. “You know, I really thought you meant it then,” she said wistfully. “That we could be civil, at least.”

“We are civil right now,” he argued, which made her turn to him again, a stern look on her face.

“Right. But only because you want to check out what I have on you. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know that. I’m not quite that naïve, Hunt.” She sighed. “Look, if you want me to delete the photos, I’ll delete them.”

Thomas wanted to believe the offer was genuine, but if his concerns were justified, she’d certainly have copies of everything lying around somewhere. And if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter whether or not she kept the photos.

“No,” he said eventually. “But I’m going to need something in return, to guarantee you won’t release or use them against me in any way. Insurance, if you will.”

Danielle narrowed her eyes at him. “You honestly think I would – of course you do.” She huffed. “Fine. It’s a good thing I happen to know you only pretend to be scary so people will respect you,” she said as she removed the flash drive and put the laptop down on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.

“Oh, I’m not giving you my nudes,” she said and got up from the sofa, smirking when an odd choking sound escaped Thomas. “Come on, I’ll give you something better.”

He followed Danielle to her wardrobe and watched as she climbed onto a chair to get a cardboard box off the top shelf. She handed it to him without another word, then jumped off the chair.

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

“Open it.”

He did as she told him and gasped when he saw the contents. “I thought the university had taken care of this.”

“They did,” she said, biting her lip. “Nothing ever got out. And it’s not everything, but it’s enough proof, I’d say.”

“I couldn’t – this would ruin you,” Thomas said and tried to give the box back but Danielle wouldn’t take it.

“Kind of the point, isn’t it?” she said with a shrug. “ You’re worried I’ll ruin you, so I’m giving you the tools to return the favour if I ever do. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but—”

“Good. Good,” she said resignedly and inclined her head towards the door. “Then I suppose it’s time for you to go.”

Tags: @lilyoffandoms @trappedinfandoms @flyawayboo @oneemofungirl @alleksa16 @silversparrow02 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @alj4890

#thomas hunt #hwu hunt #danielle

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trashinaglass-archive · 5 years

Text

Bad Trip

Hands Off Part Two

Request: can u write imagine about tom coming back to hotel and freaking out about the paparazzi incident

A/n: This was a separate request but they came in one after the other and fit perfectly and I’m excited😁

You woke up to Tom rustling around, getting ready for his day. He had a schedule full of events that you were previously excited to attend with him, but that was all going to be put to a halt. You sat up in the bed, watching Tom as he turned at the sound of you moving.

“Morning, love,” he said, moving to stand in front of where you sat and placing a kiss to your forehead as you leaned into him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. I just wish I could go with you,” you said softly. Your head resting on his chest as he held you, hands rubbing over your back.

“Maybe you can meet us when you get done at the doctors?”

You smiled at the suggestion, “we’ll see.” You looked up at him, placing a kiss to his lips, and standing up to move to the bathroom. You winced feeling the pain in your ankle, slowly limping across the room.

“Are you going to be able to get there by yourself?” Tom asked as he watched you struggle to get to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take Harry with you. Last thing we need is for you to fall and get even more hurt.”

You leaned against the wall as you turned to look at Tom again. “Then who’s going to be there to film all your adventures?” You joked. You were already upset with yourself having to miss out- you didn’t want to force Harry to miss out too.

“Trust me, so many people. He’ll probably be thankful for a few hours away from all of us,” he tried to assure you. You sighed, accepting that Tom wasn’t going to let you go alone. He couldn’t go with you himself, but he could definitely send someone with you.

“As long as he doesn’t hate me for stealing him away,” you answered.

“He won’t, y/n, I promise,” Tom told you with a laugh. “And if he does, I’ll beat him up for you.”

You laughed at his joke, “my hero.”

. . .

You made it to the doctor’s office, Harry helping you walk in without having to limp or worry about falling. Like Tom, he made sure to assure you that he was okay with missing out on the mornings events. You were taken back and seen by the doctor after a long wait where you took x-rays and tested your range of motion before he told you the news. Just as great as you thought they would be.

The doctor left you alone, giving you time to call Tom and tell him the news.

“What’s the verdict?” He asked as soon as he answered the phone.

“Not broken but severely sprained. He said just a smidge more pressure and we would’ve been looking at surgery, but thankfully it wasn’t. But I can’t put any weight on it so I’ll be in a boot with crutches for the next few months.”

You heard Tom sigh, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He shared the information with someone that was with him before speaking to you again. “Will you be able to join us tonight?” He asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, Tom. I don’t want to slow you guys down and with how crowded it’ll probably be...”

“Yeah- no, I understand. You should probably be resting it anyways.” The disappointment in Tom’s voice broke your heart.

“I’m still definitely going to the premiere though. I just need to find a new dress- I had a gown, and I’m not going to be able to wear that with this boot,” you started thinking out loud.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you something. Even if it takes an emergency visit from Law- I’ll make sure you’re the most beautiful girl on that carpet. And we can get your boot bedazzeled also if you want it,” Tom began to speak excitedly. He was scared that you wouldn’t be able to go, but he was determined to do everything in his power to make sure you are not only there, but that you are comfortable and happy and have so much fun.

“Slow down, cowboy,” you said with a laugh. “I think the bedazzeled boot would be a bit much.”

“Sorry, I just want you to enjoy your time at the premiere. Not be upset because you’re injured.”

“I appreciate it, but that night is about you, Tom. And as long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy,” you told him. You laughed as Harry made a face and let out an ‘ew’ at how cheesy you sounded. “Love you, Pete.”

“That’s not my name,” he replied, trying to sound mad but not able to control his giggle. “I love you, too.” You were ready to hang up the phone when your heard yelling causing you to bring the phone back to your ear. “Jacob says hi by the way.”

You laughed at the sweet friend of Tom’s. “Hi, Jacob.”

“Hey, y/n! Sorry about your foot, but it’s good you can still go to the premiere. You’ll have so much fun,” Jacob said.

“That’s the plan. I’m invincible- sprained ankle can’t stop me,” you joked making him laugh. You heard Jacob laugh before Tom took the phone back saying ‘bye’ once again before hanging up. The doctor walked back in shortly after, fitting you for the boot and showing you how to use all of its features.

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Harry asked when you got back to the hotel, placing the crutches on the wall beside your spot on the bed while you sat on said bed.

“If you want to go meet up with Tom and them, that’s fine. I don’t really plan on leaving the bed for the rest of the day,” you told him.

“You sure?” He asked again. “I don’t mind staying.”

“No- go have fun,” you told him.

“Okay, call if you need anything,” he said before walking out the door leaving you alone. You scooted back to lay on the bed, turning the tv on to a random channel and sliding under the covers, not bothering to take the boot off.

Hours pass and you find yourself watching Tom on Stephen Colbert. You smiled as you heard him talk, seeing his smile and hearing his laugh making you feel better. You were worried Colbert might bring up the airport incident, but thankfully he didn’t. Tom left not too long into the program, heading straight back to the hotel. You grabbed your phone off the bedside table when you heard it vibrate.

Harry: Just a heads up, Tom is pretty mad about something that happened earlier

“Thanks” you send back simply, wondering what had happened. A few minutes later, Tom walked in, throwing the contents of his pockets on the counter. “What happened?” You asked softly. You heard him sigh and shake his head before turning back to you.

“What didn’t happen?” He asked angrily. “We’re at the Empire State Building first and there was a huge crowd of people wanting pictures and autographs, which is usually fine, but they couldn’t just stop. They just kept pushing and screaming- I tried to tell them to calm down, but they wouldn’t listen. I just fucking walked away.

“And then at the Colbert show, before it started there was a line of people waiting behind some barrier things and these huge, grown ass men are literally crushing this girl against the metal. Like on her knees, getting choked out because some meatheads want to make money off a stupid pen scribble. It’s pathetic- fucking ridiculous.”

“Is she okay?” You asked, hoping she didn’t go home with a panic attack or something.

“She told me she was, but I don’t know. I just can’t believe how they’re acting. Fucking men that probably don’t even know who I am for real are so worried about getting a signature, they’re hurting young girls. My girlfriend included. I can’t even process it.”

“Tom, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him, but he wouldn’t take it.

“It’s not! It’s not fucking okay. That girl was basically choked, you have a sprain that almost needed surgery, and you’d never admit it but I know the back of your head is hurt too. Who knows how many other people haven’t gotten hurt like that. They shouldn’t be allowed to do that shit. And there’s nothing I can do about it either- that’s what pisses me off the most.”

“Tom- stop,” you said firmly, needing him to calm down and hear you out. “What did you do when you saw her?”

“I told the guys to back off- threw their shit on the ground. I talked to her, made sure she was okay and that they weren’t touching her anymore.”

“And when hammy touched me, you knocked his lights out,” you reminded him. “Tom, you are doing everything you can to take care of the situations you’re handed, and that’s all you’re responsible for. I’m sure that girl is over the moon that you did what you did when you could’ve just walked away. You can’t control someone else’s actions, but you can step in and try to help. And you did. Be mad about their actions as much as you want, but don’t be mad at yourself for what you can’t control.”

“Yeah, note taken,” he said with a huff. He sat on the bed next to you, wanting to distract himself from the topic. He pulled the blanket off your leg to reveal the chunky boot you wore. “You have to sleep in it?” He asked.

“No,” you replied. Tom took that as his cue to remove it from your leg- unclasping the velcro and gently sliding it off your foot. He took the time to inspect your ankle where the damage was.

“It looks a lot worse today,” he said quietly. “Darker bruise, more swelling. Does it still hurt?”

“When I move it, yeah, but the doctor gave me some pain meds for it so it’s no big deal.”

“That’s good,” he said mostly to himself. “I spoke with my publicist about tomorrow, and I have the entire afternoon off to take you shopping- find something for you to wear to the premiere that’ll look lovely with your beautiful new boot.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Tommy,” you declared, but you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. It touched your heart that he was willing to make time to help you find a new outfit. “I could’ve gone by myself.”

“I know, but I want to,” he simply said, looking at you with a smile. “Besides how are you going to pick something without my expert opinion?”

You reached over and smacked him, your smile mimicking his own. He leaned over to kiss you once before standing up and doing his nightly routine. “How did you know my head was hurt?”

“Last night- I was wide awake and started to play with your hair. I guess I moved some strands that were connected to that spot because you winced and moved your head back.”

“Why did I react if I was asleep?”

“I don’t think you were fully asleep, yet. Or if you were, it was a light sleep,” Tom answered. It amazed you the things he noticed about you, as if he studied your every move.

He made his way back to the bed, sliding under the covers and cuddling into you with his chest to your back. He made sure to be careful where he moved his feet, not wanting to accidentally kick your injured ankle. You intertwined your fingers together when he wrapped his arm around your waist. Bringing his hand to your mouth, you place a kiss to his knuckle.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” He responded sleepily. “It’s the least I could do for my gorgeous girl.”

Tom nuzzled his face into your shoulder, placing a kiss to the exposed skin. You fell asleep feeling comforted, happy, and safe in the arms of your love.

Tag list: @rexorangecouny (Add yourself here)

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader

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izukult · 5 years

Text

this is the end {chapter two}

summary / things couldn’t get worse than this. but, they did. the chapter in which everything in your life goes wrong.

warnings / cult, kidnap, actual foRCED cannibalism (if that’s too much it’s under the first break and ends after the second break!), stalking, death, angst, angst, angST, not much peter this chapter, swearing. idk bad stuff man. i use the word silence a million times just call it motif. didn’t proof read.

word count / 2015

notes / wow this is hard to write. PLEASE read my disclaimer. sorry there’s not much peter. this is filler. coolio. this will be like the last chapter that only focuses on what they’re doing to u, i promise this will get momentum

disclaimer / please don’t support or romanticize the abuse in this fic! this is something i’m simply writing to help me deal with trauma and/or my mental health to try to give it a positive spin. i apologize if it is dark, i needed an outlet. :))

the white cotton stuck to your skin with the water, leaving your breath to moisturize the air as you gasped. you lifted your chained hands as far as you could, trying to brush the hair that clung to your face. you looked at the cracked porcelain of the lonely bathtub, nausea going to your throat as you saw how your blood mixed in with the ice and the water. your cough was scratchy, burning your throat further as you leaned over, gagging, water spilling up.

“son of a bitch.” you let your head fall towards your chest as tears formed in your eyes again; the sob that left your throat stung almost as bad as the cold. you knew you could get out of this. you weren’t chained to the tub, and they weren’t holding a gun to your head if you dared to move an inch. they wanted you to move, to see if you really could fight the way your personality said you could after what you’d endured. you wanted to lift yourself, heave your body up and make your fragile knees bend, but you didn’t know how to do that without making them shatter. you didn’t know how to breathe without your ribs piercing your lungs. they were killing you and every day you felt your soul disconnecting from your body.

the metal of the handcuffs on your wrists clanged against the tub as you tried to push yourself up. ice pressed against a gash on your stomach (that you didn’t know you had) through the fabric of your dress, evoking a short scream from you. your body racked with sobs that hurt you so much more and you grit your teeth as you continued to try to get up. your body sunk down, trauma holding your bones back.

“god dammit,” the words came out like a desperate prayer and you slammed your hands into the side of the vat. “god fucking dammit!” you were sobbing harder, your cuts pruning along with your skin, but your energy to fight had completely vanished. you knew you’d be in there until someone came for you, and you knew when they grabbed you out it would be a whole lot worse; so you might as well try to enjoy getting clean.

—————

your eyes widened, head shaking rapidly. you jerked your body against the hands holding you, tears welling through your disgust. “no, no, no.” your body thrashed as your eyes stayed trained on the plate in front of you. “no.” it was simple, white ceramic with a silver fork and knife on each of its sides. the white was splotched with red- blood. you gagged slightly, the smell reaching your nose. “fucking no!” you twisted yourself, almost moving out of their grasp. you desperately attempted to stumble away, not caring what kind of beating you would face, but they pushed you forward.

“you have to become accustomed to it,” one of them started as they moved to shove you into the chair. “the queen should have no limits, no weakness.” once you were sat, they were clamping your shoulders. you pressed against the wood of the chair enough to try to tip it, but they simply brought you back up.

“please,” the word was croaked- choppy and sickly and raw. “don’t make me do this, i’ll be good. i promise i’ll be good.” you didn’t typically beg them, and you felt as if any integrity you held was gone. but you’d also never had what you could only assume was a human kidney (you remember peter telling you the shapes of organs one time while you studied for biology, which caused you to tell him he sounded like a serial killer.) in front of you on a fucking plate.

there was silence around you. typically, you would’ve begged for silence. a moment without their heavy breathing or the sound of your pain, but now it was just eerie. they watched you and waited and when you refused to move for the cutlery, they did it themselves. and, for some reason beyond them, you didn’t seem to enjoy it nearly as much as you did when your mother would feed you as a baby.

—————

his fingers traced your arm, nails forming a temporary tattoo.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

he was vile to you. they all were. your temples ached as he pierced your skin with what could only be described as his claws.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

“i missed you, pretty girl.” a scowl found its way on your face at the name they’d all become accustomed to calling you- although it was a name only peter should call you. and, quite frankly, his praises of longing for you go unnoticed at the fact you can’t remember which one he is.

you have about thirteen comebacks to each of his phrases of want, but you’d learned that silence was the biggest killer to them.

your eyes filled with tears (like they always did) when his hands slid under your top, which didn’t cover much to begin with.

“but now it’s just you and me,” the animation of his voice was scratchy to you and you wanted nothing more than to rip the voice box out of his mask.

you continued to count in your head, eyesight trained on the wall in front of you rather than the situation presented in front of you.

your eyelids started to hang heavy. you were tired. of all of this. you were tired of pretending you were okay.

maybe if you fell asleep, this would go quicker. maybe, if you slept well enough, you wouldn’t even remember he was here.

—————

you watched as they set up the camera, feet burning against the cold cement. since that day of exhaustion, the feeling had been perpetual. you wanted to care about how you looked if you knew the world was going to see you (or was that another lie?), but it was the least of your concerns.

‘how did the phrase go? if peter couldn’t handle you at your ugly state during your kidnap, he didn’t deserve you at your best. something like that,’ you thought as they moved you to the middle mark for the perfect angle.

you were certain the recording was trivial. some dumb black market snuff film type shit that honestly no one would end up watching, but more time in front of the camera meant less alone time with them. peter had sworn that you deserved stardom, so maybe this was it.

your eyes darted from the man in front of you to the one who pressed the button on the camera (a riveting job, honestly) and then forward, to the lens.

you didn’t pay much attention as they droned on about you until your loves name got mentioned. your head snapped quickly, eyes widened and gaze afraid.

“and, peter parker, this ones for you.” his head tilted towards you and you became fascinated with the way the inside of your bottom lip tasted.

you shook your head slightly hoping peter would understand you desperately meant this wasn’t about him. you didn’t speak up though. silence was key.

he continued to talk about you, about your glory, and your hands, and your lips, and the way your face felt when they’d hold onto you.

that’s when you realized the smell. you hoped it hadn’t shown on your face, but it probably had. poker had never been your strong suit. and then you were scanning the room again and they could tell and you knew that they wanted this and that they wanted you to know something was up and they wanted to record you finding out and your stomach started to fucking churn.

a sob left your throat as a light you didn’t know existed shined behind you. there had been a curtain between you and the wall that had now been moved and you saw it. the reminiscence of a series of girls who looked somewhat like you.

“oh my, god.” it was a quiet prayer for a being you couldn’t say you believed in as you stared at the heads with hair just like yours, eyes a shade so close to your own. “oh my fucking god.” you were louder this time, your knees wobbling as you struggled to keep your balance.

you couldn’t see their faces but you imagined the men around you were smiling. you didn’t recognize the tears falling until they hit the ground but you ignored it, disgust covering your features as you turned from the girls to the man who had been talking.

“what the fuck have you done?” your voice was raw. you were furious, you were sick, you were sorry. sorry for the people who’d never be able to go home.

“don’t worry, sweetheart, they didn’t come close to you.” you lifted your chained hands to your mouth, retching out a sob.

“you’re- you’re all monsters.” you felt vacant. you felt empty. you felt useless. they had died because of you. they had died because they looked like you.

“oh my god.” you repeated yourself, sobs wracking your body as you were recorded by the long forgotten camera.

“oh, sweetheart, no reason to cry.” he moved towards you, placing a hand on your head, tangling his fingers through your hair. and, you realized, this was the first time you’d truly wanted to kill someone.

you continued to cry, not following the urge to do any harm to him as you stood in your spot.

“did we go too far?” your mind screamed yes. yes you’re evil and you’re bad and i hate you all. yes you went too fucking far. but you stayed unspeaking.

“what do you want, pretty girl?” your eye twitched. you felt it. you felt the physical change in you. you turned your head, eyes meeting the eyes of his mask and you smiled faintly.

“do you really want to know?” your voice was sweet, sickly, and he moved his hand from your hair to your shoulder.

“of course.” your smiled turned to a scowl as you raised your hands to place them atop his own, fingers digging into his hands.

“i want to rip the skin from your fucking hands so you never had the fucking luxury of touching me or those girls.” you moved your hands to his throat, but none of the other men moved to his rescue.

“and then?” you simultaneously leaned into him and brought his head to you, where your nose was against the nose of his mask. “then, i want to blow my brains against the fucking wall.” even though your words came through gritted teeth, each of them were over enunciated.

you shoved him away by his neck, continuing to stand tall as you did so. “and, unfortunately for me, i plan to get what i want.”

your gaze finally found the camera lens again and you let out a small breath of realization. your hands were shaking. you knew there were the girls behind you, and the man you’d been threatening was gasping for breath now. maybe you looked like the monster.

you looked down at your hands, teeth slightly chattering, and you could only imagine how peter felt. he probably hated you. this was your fault. this was your fucking fault. all of it.

your mouth parted slightly and you gulped. “i-” nothing else came out and you bit your lip again, shutting your eyes as tight as you could.

you wanted to sob. to fall apart. to break. but, you had just made a commitment to your captors. you were going to give them hell, and then find your way there. you just hoped peter would understand.

the camera turned off and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

unbeknownst to you, peter was sat at the tv with wide, glossy eyes, praying you’d get out of there as soon as possible. just not in the way you planned.

tag list: @greenteavee @jacksnoodlez99 @sarahalkhalifaa @lilsxtan @honeymarvel @awaywithtime @5secondsofpeterparker

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman angst #peter parker angst #mcu #marvel #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #marvel cinematic universe #this is SO DARK IM SORRY #TBH I WOULDVE DROPPED THIS IF THERE WERENT REQUESTS #COPING WEIRD #THANKS

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criminalhotch · 6 years

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“Going the Distance”~An Ethan Dolan Imagine

Can you make an imagine where you’re dating Ethan and you’re like half way across the country in ur state and see the sister squad and the whole Emma and Ethan thing; and you end up like unintentionally ignoring Ethan and everyone because you’re like hurt?? And confused?? And mad?? And all of a sudden he like gets fed up and just comes to see u and and it’s all angsty

Don’t know if you taking writing ideas but I just thought of one: Y/N, Grayson, Ethan, and Emma go back to Jersey. Everyone is loving Y/N and Ethan feels like no one is like Emma. It causes a lot of problems between Ethan and Grayson bc Ethan is rude toward Y/N bc he feels it is her fault on my no one seems to like Emma. In the end, Ethan and Y/N talk everything out. Thanks! Your writing is like flawless! ❤️

A/N: Thank you to the two people who sent in these requests. It was going to be really hard to make two separate storylines so I combined them! Long distance sucks, my best friend lives 11 hours away from me and I only see him a couple times a year. This one isn’t my favorite but it matches the requests. I hope you guys like it!

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cursing, nothing major

Word Count: 4,454

I sat in my apartment in my home state. I was miles upon miles from my boyfriend, Ethan Dolan. We had been together a year, but the fans didn’t know. I wasn’t famous, Ethan didn’t want me to get hate because it was a long-distance relationship only making it worse. I hadn’t seen him in three months. Every time they go home to New Jersey I have a big test, so I can never go. I adore his family. I miss him more than anything. I love him I do but distance is so hard. They travel so often it makes it even harder. He does treat me so well. We call, text, snapchat, and FaceTime all of the time. He sends me things to my apartment just because he misses me but with school there’s just never a good time for us to see each other. I decided that I would Facetime him. “Facetiming Turtle Man”. It then stopped ringing meaning he declined it. Soon enough, my phone dinged with a text from him. “Filming a vid with Emma, Gray, and James. I’ll call you later, baby. Love you” it read. Emma, imagine that. No wonder everyone is shipping them. My thoughts made me that I shouldn’t respond.

A couple of hours later I looked at my phone with two missed calls from Ethan. I had decided to take a relaxing bath and left my phone on the counter. I thought about calling him back, but I was tired. I knew that us talking would only end in a fight or with me crying, probably both. I decided it was best to just go to bed and I did just that. I threw on some sweats and one of Ethan’s shirts that I had even though it had lost his scent months ago. The next morning, I woke up at 8:02 and my first class is at 8:30. It was also a 15-minute walk from my apartment to my class. I threw my hair in a bun, kept the clothes on I wore to bed, brushed my teeth, then left. I got to my class with three minutes to spare. I decided to check my phone. Three missed calls from Grayson and 12 from Ethan. As well as four texts from Grayson and 21 texts from Ethan. Unfortunately, I had no service in this building so responding was not an option and to make it worse this class is three hours long. I guess they will just have to wait.

Ethan’s POV (Last Night after filming)

“Has Y/N responded to you?” I asked Grayson. “No, you?” he asked. “No, and it worries me” I admitted. “She might have fallen asleep, E. You know she has her 8:30 tomorrow” he reminded me. “You’re right, I just worry, and I miss her” I sulked. “I know you do, dude,” he said patting my back. “What if she is mad at me? I don’t know what I did” I told him. “Maybe it’s not something you did but who you are with” he suggested. “Grayson, you are my brother why would she be mad at that,” I asked him with a tude. “Not me, you fucking idiot. Emma” he said. “Why would she be jealous of Emma?” I asked. “Let’s see it’s a female who sees you way more than she does. All of the fans ship you and Emma with that ugly ass ship name because they don’t know about you and Y/N, not to mention you guys are kind of flirty in our videos” he explained. “That’s just how we are, it’s not serious. I love Y/N, not Emma” I told him. “Ethan, I know that. I have to listen to you complain about it every day, but she doesn’t see you, every day. It’s hard for her too, E” he told me. “I don’t know what to do Gray” I admitted. “She’s probably just asleep. If she doesn’t respond before class tomorrow, then you can worry” he negotiated, and I nodded. “I’m going to go play Fortnite and hope I can clear these thoughts up,” I told Grayson as I headed to my room. I started my game and before I knew it the clock read 4:13 am. I decided to get into bed and try to get some sleep. I tossed and turned for hours. It’s now 8 am and I didn’t sleep a wink. I got up and walked across the house. I found Grayson working out, imagine that. “Gray she never responded to me,” I said. “Me either but why are you out of bed before noon?” he questioned. “Is it out of bed if I never fell asleep?” I asked. “E” he sighed. “My mind wouldn’t shut off, Gray. I can’t lose her. I love her” I said pulling my hair through my fingers. “Go pack. I’m going to book you a flight while you pack. Go see her. The video for Tuesday is almost done and I can finish it. We can do something in New Jersey for next Tuesday. You just go get your girl, alright?” he said. God, I love this kid. “Thanks, Gray,” I said hugging him. “You’re welcome. I am the best twin ever, now go” he demanded. I went upstairs and packed. It was pretty last minute but if I forgot anything I could have Grayson bring it to New Jersey. I walked back downstairs around 8:45. “Ok, you have a flight at 10. I have printed off all of your information. If I were you I would have Y/N come to New Jersey with us for Thanksgiving later this week. You guys can meet Emma and me there” he explained. Emma was coming to New Jersey because her parents decided on a last-minute vacation but didn’t ask her to join so she didn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, so Grayson and I invited her to come to New Jersey with us. I ate a quick bowl of cereal then had Grayson drive me to the airport. We got to LAX about 10 minutes before my plane boarded. I got to my gate as soon as boarding started. I got on the plane and before I knew it I was in the air. I was so ready to surprise her. I need it. She needs it. We need it.

Before I knew it, we had made it to the next airport. I got off and headed straight to Y/N’s house. I had her address from sending her things in the mail. I went straight there hoping that she was home. I knocked but no one ever came. I decided that I would do what any good boyfriend would do. I would wait, at her doorstep for her to arrive.

Y/N’s POV

I decided to steal some of the school’s WiFi before I go back to my apartment. I went to the library grabbed one of the study cubicles and got to work. I had one last test before Thanksgiving break and then I was done. I was pretty confident, but it couldn’t hurt to refresh myself. I stayed in the cubicle for a couple hours just to ensure a good grade on this test. I packed up my things then took the 15-minute walk back to my apartment. I made my way up to my apartment where I saw a figure standing in front of a door. They must be waiting for maintenance, I thought. I kept walking until I realized the figure was in front of my apartment and he looked familiar. He looked like Ethan. I realized I never responded to any of them. I should do that when I get settled in. The closer I got the more I realized it was Ethan. “Ethan?” I asked. “Y/N!” he exclaimed while jumping up. We ran to each other. I dropped my backpack not caring about my laptop. I ran as fast as my feet would take me. It felt like it took forever but soon enough I was engulfed in his arms again. I buried my head into his chest. I took a deep breath trying to take everything in. Then I began crying. I pulled away from him and wiped my tears away. “Why are you crying, babe?” he asked. “I missed you so much and I am so glad you’re here” I explained. “Well, I’m here now, alright? No more tears” he said kissing my forehead. I unlocked my door then took us inside. My apartment was filled with pictures of Ethan and I. “I’m everywhere” he said. “Hey, it’s both of us and there’s some of Grayson too but when I don’t get the real thing I have to make do” I shrugged. “I know this is hard for you, it’s hard for me too” he sighed. “E?” I asked. “Yes, baby?” he said. “Why are you here?” I asked. “Well you wouldn’t answer Grayson or me, so I knew something was up. Even if you were mad at me you would respond to Grayson, at least. I was so scared something happened to you that I had to be here. Grayson found me a flight while I packed my stuff up then the next thing I knew, I was here” he explained. “I’m sorry for worrying you. After you declined my FaceTime I got upset so I took a bath then went to bed. Then I woke up late this morning, so I didn’t have time to respond before class then the building I was at didn’t have service. Then I went to the library and zoned out. I’m fine E. I didn’t mean to scare you” I sighed. “Why were you upset?” he asked. “I just missed you,” I said. “It’s more than that. You’re looking away from me which means you’re hiding something” he noticed. Damn, why did he know me so well? I stayed silent. “It’s Emma isn’t it?” he asked, and I nodded. “Grayson was right” he sighed. “What did Grayson say?” I asked. “He said that you might be jealous of Emma because she is with me a lot and we’re friends. That there are fans shipping her and I because they don’t know about us” he said. “And you guys get awful friendly in your collabs” I mentioned. His eyes dropped, and I prepared for the worst. He had cheated. “Y/N, baby girl, sweetheart, pumpkin, my princess. I know you are thinking the worst. You are thinking that I cheated on you but I didn’t. I would never. Emma and I are seriously just friends. You know my personality and that I’m very goofy which could be mistaken as flirty. I do not love Emma, I do not even look at Emma that way. There is only one girl I look at with all the love in my heart and that’s you” he said pulling his phone out. “Ethan, what are you doing?” I asked. “You’ll see” he smirked. A few seconds later my phone dinged. It was a notification: Ethan Dolan tagged you in a post. I shot him a look. What was he up to? I opened the app and saw a picture of Ethan and I from a few months ago. There was kind of a long caption. “Just an update on my life for you guys. Emma and I are NOT together. I am with this beautiful girl right here. Her name is Y/N and I love her with everything that I am. Not many people know that we have been together for the past year. She isn’t famous, and I was worried she wouldn’t be able to handle the hate so please treat my girl well, she has my heart. Don’t be the reason she breaks it”

“Ethan” I smiled as tears filled my eyes. “I love you so much. I know I didn’t ask, and I just did it, but it was the only way I could prove how much I loved you” he said pulling me into him. “You’re so extra babe” I giggled. “Can we snuggle for a little bit?” he asked, and I nodded. As we laid there I began to think. “E how long are you staying?” I asked. “Well it’s Monday and Thanksgiving is Thursday. My family’s Thanksgiving is Thursday at 4 which I really want you to come. I’ll buy your ticket, I just want you there. They miss you” he admits. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I see my family all the time” I giggled. “Oh, um I should probably tell you this” he started. “Tell me what?” I asked getting upset. “So, Grayson and I felt bad. You know how soft we are, Y/N even if we don’t act like. You can’t leave someone alone on Thanksgiving, right?” he smiled trying to guilt trip me. “E, what did you guys do?” I asked. “WeinvitedEmmatoNewJerseybecauseshedidn’thaveanywhereelsetogo” he said all in one breath. “So Emma is going to be at your family Thanksgiving?” I asked. “Um, yes?” he said unsure of what my reaction would be. “Good, I can tell her to stay the fuck off my man,” I said. “Babe, she’s not after me” he pleaded. “Bullshit E. Open your eyes when you watch your videos. She is all over you! Not Grayson but you! She knows about me, right?” I asked. “Well of course. I talk about you all of the time, ask Gray” he said. “She clearly doesn’t get the hint then, Ethan” I scowled. “Babe, we only get to see each other for a few days let’s not spend it arguing” he pleaded. “E, I don’t want to fight but I haven’t seen you in months, then there’s some YouTuber I have never met all of over you, your fans ship you guys together like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. How am I supposed to feel?” I asked with tears pricking my eyes. “Y/N, don’t cry. We both know I can’t handle your tears, babe” he says softly. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, E” I admitted even if I didn’t want to. “Y/N, I just told everyone, don’t say that” he begged. “Ethan, I have seen you maybe four or five weeks of the over 52 we have been together. This destroys me. I miss you more every day. I watch your videos to support you and Gray, obviously but so I can hear your voice and your laugh so I can see you smile. Yes, we talk all the time but college is so much plus having a famous boyfriend who lives states away. I can’t keep doing this, E. I love you, this has nothing to do with the fact that I don’t love you. I love you more than anything but loving you is killing me” I sobbed as my head fell into his chest. “Move in with Grayson and me” he suggested. “Ethan that’s crazy,” I said looking up from his chest with tear-stained cheeks. “I cannot let you go. You have made me a better person, Y/N. Not to mention, I love you. Everything I said in that Instagram post was true. You have my heart; baby girl and I can’t be without you anymore. A year is long enough” he explained. “Ethan, what about school, my family, my friends, but again most importantly school?” I asked. “UCLA?” he said in a duh tone. “I won’t get into UCLA” I shot back. “Actually, I already applied for you because I was going to ask if you wanted to move in with Gray and I after Christmas?” he smiled trying to read my reaction. “Did I get in?” I asked worriedly. “OF COURSE, YOU GOT IN. YOU ARE THE SMARTEST GIRL I KNOW” he exclaimed. “I’m mad at you” I whispered. “For what?” he asked. “Going behind my back and applying at UCLA” I explained. “Well, you should be mad at your mom too because she was the one who suggested it and told me all the information I needed that I didn’t have” he admitted. “You went through all of that just, so we could be together?” I asked, and he nodded. “Ethan Grant, you are an idiot and you’re sneaky, but I don’t know what I’d do without you” I smiled. “My parents are ok with me transferring?” I asked him. “They told me that they trust me to take care of you and that you’ll be much happier being with me then stuck here” he explained, and he was right. “Are you going to move in with us?” he asked. “I don’t know, E. It’s a lot all at once” I answered. “Take your time. You have a couple weeks before anything needs decided” he told me as I snuggled into his chest. If I wanted to be happy I knew that LA with him and Gray would be the best thing. He’s everything to me but what if we break up. I’ll have to move back home and that’s scary too. I love him, but I’m scared.

It’s Wednesday afternoon and we’re flying to New Jersey. These past couples of days with Ethan have been so nice. I only had one class yesterday and once I was done with my test I could leave. I was back before Ethan even got up for the day. Grayson and Emma’s flight got in 10 minutes after Ethan and I’s did so we decided to wait for them. We could hear Y/Ship/N being chanted but we just decided to ignore it waiting for Gray and Emma. Soon enough their plane landed, and we were met with Grayson’s big smile and Emma being Emma. “Hey, Y/N. How are you?” Gray asked wrapping me in a hug. “Good, how was your flight?” I asked. “Not bad” he smiled then I looked at Emma. “Y/N, this is Emma. Emma, this is Y/N” Grayson said while Ethan stood there awkwardly. “Hey, E has told me a lot about you,” Emma said, and I smiled. “Yeah, you too” I lied not wanting to make her feel bad. We started walking out the airport hearing. “Why is Emma here?” “Is Emma dating Grayson then?” “Gremma” “Ethma” “Y/Ship/Name” then the farther we got the worse it got. “Emma shouldn’t even be here. Flirting with Ethan when he has a girlfriend” “Boo Emma” “Emma should go back to LA” “No one likes Emma” “Fuck you, Emma”

I looked at Ethan and he was angry. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed. I squeezed his hand trying to make him feel better, but it didn’t work. Shortly after hearing more mean things he let go of my hand and stormed in front of us. I just let him go. I waited for Emma and Grayson to catch up so I could walk with them. “Why aren’t you walking with Ethan?” he asked. “That’s a good question” I answered. “What happened?” Emma asked. “I think he got mad at all of the fans being mean to Emma. I squeezed hand trying to get him to calm down, but he just got mad and stormed off” I explained. “He’s such an ass sometimes” Grayson muttered.

We walked to the waiting area by the door, waiting for Lisa and Sean to pick us up. Ethan was outside in the cold. “E, wait inside with us” I yelled and he ignored me. “Whatever, freeze. See if I care” I yelled staying inside with Gray and Emma. “I’m sorry, he’s being like this” Grayson apologized. “it’s fine, he will get over it,” I said. “I don’t know why he is so upset. I get hate all the time, this is mild” Emma explained. “It’s Ethan, who knows” I mumbled. “My parents just pulled up,” Gray said. We put our stuff in the trunk as Ethan had already put his things up then got in the car. “I’ll sit in the back with Gray” I said and they both nodded. The whole ride back to the Dolan’s was damn near silent other than the few questions Lisa and Sean asked us. Ethan never answering any of them. Ethan shot out of the car and headed up to his room. “What’s wrong with your brother, Gray?” Lisa asked. “Honestly, I don’t know” he answered. “Y/N, do you know?” Sean asked. “Not really. Shortly after we got to the airport he got into this mood” I said, and they nodded not asking any further. I put my things in Ethan’s room. He was sat on his bed and his back to the door. I dropped my stuff off and headed back downstairs letting him make his own decisions. “He still being a pain?” Emma asked. “Yeah, he will calm down eventually. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, he will talk eventually about what’s bothering him” I explained.

Emma, Grayson, and I sat watching Christmas movies. We were watching Home Alone. We had already watched Elf and The Grinch. Ethan came downstairs to get a drink and didn’t say anything to anyone. He went back up to his room. “What is his deal?” Grayson asked. “I don’t know” I muttered not pushing it. “I’ll go talk to him,” Grayson said getting up from the couch and pausing the movie.

Grayson’s POV Sometimes Ethan confuses the hell out of me. This being one of those times. I barge into his room not caring that I didn’t knock. “You could knock” he scoffed. “You could not be a dick,” I said back. “Your girlfriend is hanging out with Emma and me because you are ignoring her. For what reason Ethan? What has got you so pissed off you are ignoring everyone when it’s the day before Thanksgiving? Shouldn’t you be I don’t know, THANKFUL” I yelled at him. “Y/N is making everyone hate Emma. Look at twitter everyone is telling Emma she’s ugly and to leave us alone because they know I’m with Y/N. It’s not fair” he said. “Ok, so you are pissed at the fans but taking it out on Y/N. Do you realize how fucking stupid you sound?” I asked. “She was the one that was jealous of Emma” he shot back. “Ethan, you fucking idiot. She is your girlfriend and barely gets to see you where Emma sees you all the time. I would be jealous too” I explained to him. “I see you all of the time and she isn’t mad about you” he sassed. “I am your brother, your TWIN brother so there’s no way I am going to be able to take you from Y/N. We share our time with you, it’s different, Ethan. And if you’re too ignorant to figure that out maybe you should break up with Y/N and be with Emma if that’s what you want” I yelled. “No, it’s not. I love Y/N, but I care about Emma. I don’t want her getting hate because of Y/N and I being together. It’s not fair to Emma” he said. “Ok well, it’s not fair to any of us when you ignore us when you are mad at the fans. Tweet something and tell them to be nice to Y/N and Emma. It’s not that hard, E. You are just so damn stubborn that you don’t think about things” I said, and he sighed knowing he had fucked up. “I’m going downstairs and sending Y/N up here. You better apologize, you asshole” I said. “I will, thanks Gray,” he said. I walked to the living room and looked at Y/N. “I calmed him down, go to talk to him,” I said, and she nodded.

Y/N’s POV

I walked into Ethan’s room slowly. “I’m sorry” he started. ‘I was mad at you when I should be mad at myself. I was the one who hid you from the fans for so long now they are mad not only that I hid it but because I’m not with Emma. I blamed you for everyone being mean to Emma when it’s my fault. I guess because we argued about Emma and I’s friendship that it was an easy way to escape my guilt. I’m so sorry for being a stubborn asshole. I’m going to tweet and clear everything up. I hope you still love me” he apologized keeping his head down scared to look at me. “I do still love you Ethan, but you need to talk to me instead of getting mad about things. I don’t want people being mean to Emma, either. If you weren’t up here wallowing in self-pity you would see that I don’t really mind her” I explained to him. “I’m so sorry that I ruined Thanksgiving” he sighed pulling his hands through his hair. I grabbed his cheeks making him look at me. “You didn’t ruin anything, E. Now clear things up and you can join the rest of us downstairs,” I said kissing his forehead and running my hand through his hair. He grabbed his phone and opened the Twitter app. He tweeted, “Hey guys. We saw some of you at the airport. A lot of you had nice things to say and some didn’t. I know you are upset that I didn’t tell you about Y/N sooner. I had a good reason for that. Therefore, a lot of you thought I was with Emma. I’m sorry for the confusion. Emma is one of my best friends and Y/N is my girlfriend. I love and care for both of them in different ways so please don’t send hate to either of them. Thanks. -E”

“There hopefully things get better” he smiled. “You tried, E and that’s all that matters,” I said. “I do love you, Y/N. I don’t want Emma. I want you and I still want you to come to LA” he admitted. “I love you too, E” I smirked while leaning into his lips. Smiling into it I kiss him. Before I knew it, he had flipped us onto the bed. “Ethan” I yelled while he flipped us over. I was lying on my back and he was hovering over me. “Are you going to move to LA and live with Gray and me?” he asked wanting an answer. “Yes, E. I’ll move to LA with you and Gray as long as you get off of me, so we can downstairs,” I said. “Fuck yeah,” he said jumping up. “You’re an idiot” I giggled. “But I’m your idiot” he winked. “Yes, I suppose you are,” I said as I shook my head as we headed back to the living room. Ethan Grant Dolan, you are an idiot, you are the most stubborn person I have ever met, but you complete me.

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mydearestreaderfanfics · 6 years

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Revenant and Romance (Keith x Reader)

Warnings: injury (not serious)

Word Count: 2,839

Prompt/Request: Eleventh day of the October Special: Ghost Hunter.

Summary: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum offers many experiences to, say, a medium or a ghost hunter. Maybe it also offers something for those who may not have been looking for love, but are bound to find it anyway.

Author: Mod Alex

Keith Kogane, also known as Ghosts and Dog, was an overnight YouTube sensation. His videos almost always seemed to have some kind of encounter, although none of them were deemed proof enough for the skeptics. He was also respected by the online community for never staging the sightings, only capturing the proof that actually showed up. His voice was pleasant and he always did his research, retelling the history behind each place while he filmed. He also always had his dog Kosmo with him which was a major bonus. You’d been a fan for as long as you can remember, even before he became a trending channel. He had inspired you to try and contact ghosts too, just in a different way. You'd always felt the presence of ghosts, only now you'd managed to successfully communicate with them, aiding them in finding their way to the other side. You'd even become confident enough in your abilities to start your own channel.

Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was his next destination. He’d visited Mothman’s hometown because cryptids, obviously, so while he was still in West Virginia he figured he might as well stop by one of America’s most haunted locations. His next video was due any day now too. “Come on, Kosmo, we gotta hit the road.” “Awroo?” “I know you wanted to find Mothman, I did too, but we have to upload something eventually.” The blue-tinted wolfdog bumped against Keith, whining. “I’ll get you some treats for the road.” This bribery seemed like enough for the oversized dog as he made a beeline for their truck.

Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was going to be your magnum opus. If you could help even so much as one of the tortured souls in the asylum then you’d be happy. Keith hadn’t done any videos on it and as far as you knew he didn’t have any plans on exploring the property anytime soon, which was a plus. At least you wouldn’t be labeled as a poser by the people of YouTube for “stealing his idea”. You’d be allowed to explore the asylum freely with no accusations of being unoriginal.

You pulled in at the front of the building, surprised to see a truck already there. When you called the day before you’d been told they weren’t having any tours and that there shouldn’t be any employee vehicles except in the back. So who did this truck belong to? Perhaps one of the employees had accidentally parked there? You shrugged it off and grabbed your backpack. Inside, the asylum looked just how you’d pictured it. Paint chipped brick walls with questionable stains. Ah well, you didn’t go to these places for interior design tips. You decided to get a feel for the place before setting up and actually trying to contact the dead.

You’d only made it to the second floor when you heard someone talking. You crept towards the noise expecting it to be one of three things: a security guard, some random kids in search of trouble, or spirits. What you weren’t expecting to find was your favorite YouTuber in the middle of recording. You paused and he did too upon noticing you, which was a bad idea because, like you said, he was in the middle of recording. “Eep! Sorry, I wasn’t aware there was going to be anybody else here. I’ll just be going.” You moved to turn around when you heard Keith call out for you to come back. You did so, albeit hesitantly. There was your literal role model and you waltzed into his recording like a dunce. “Are you with the staff?” He seemed genuinely confused. “No?” His confusion only increased from your answer. Before he had a chance to ask you any more questions Kosmo bounded over to you, knocking into your legs and making you fall back, he then proceeded to lick your face and nuzzle against you like you were his best friend. “Kosmo, you can’t-,” Keith began. You laughed, petting the larger than life dog. “Hi, cutie. You’re a cuddly pupper aren’t you?” “Kosmo.” Keith whistled and Kosmo went bounding back toward him. “Sorry about that, he doesn’t realize how big he is.” “You got up, brushing the fur off your clothes. “No worries, he seems really sweet.” You knew he was really sweet, you’d seen how adorable he was in Keith’s videos. “So you said you weren’t part of the staff?” “No, I’m here to investigate.” “They told me there wasn’t anybody else here today.” “I was told the same thing. You can imagine my surprise when I saw you.” “Grr-bork!” You two were interrupted once again by Kosmo who was barking in your direction. Why? Just seconds ago he was cuddling you like there was no tomorrow. You held your hands up as the wolfdog approached you slowly, hunched and growling. You gave a quiet yelp as he lunged, tensing for the impact. Except it never came. He had landed and began barking like crazy in the space just past you. A translucent figure stood before you. He grinned, pleased that you could see him. His expression sent chills down your spine, something about him was very off. “Kosmo, what are you doing?” Oh, right, he couldn't see the ghost, like Kosmo and you. Perhaps if you walked away the spirit would follow you and leave Keith and Kosmo alone. Just as you turned to leave you felt something sharp rake across your arm and growl ‘get out’ in your ear. Kosmo’s barking got louder and he ran in circles around you like he was trying to protect you. You lifted your sweater sleeve, relieved that you weren’t bleeding, however there was five red welts. Once the spirit was gone Kosmo sat at your feet whining. “Thank you for trying, sweetie. Don’t feel bad, I’ve dealt with worse.” “What? You understand what Kosmo’s trying to do?” “Um, yeah? I mean, sorta.” “He does that with me sometimes… What was all of that?” “I’m not sure if you’d believe me even if I told you.” “Try me.” “Alright. There was a ghost and Kosmo was trying to keep him away. It didn’t work and the ghost did what most malevolent ghosts do and scratched me in an attempt to get me to leave.” You shrugged, hoping what you said came across as you not being delusional. “Wait, you could see the ghost?” “Maybe…” You’d seen Keith get excited before on his videos, but never to this extent. He practically had stars in his eyes. “So you can actually see ghosts?” “I mean yeah.” “That’s fantastic, would you mind sticking around for my video.” “Wh-what? You want me to be in your video?” “If you are okay with that. I’m Keith by the way.” “I know, I m-mean… Sorry I just, I’ve seen your videos before, that’s actually part of the reason I’m here. I wanted to help the ghosts.” You expected him to get mad, but instead he just smiled. “Great, so you already know how this goes.” “Oh yeah, I guess that’s true.” He waved you over in front of the camera. You hesitantly walked over to him, awaiting his instruction. He picked up shortly before where you had walked in, pausing to declare he had a special guest. “This is…” “(Y/N), pleasure to be here.” You waved awkwardly at the camera. “They’re here on ghost hunting business too.” “Ghost helping actually, I am a medium.”

Keith alternated between filming while he explored and exploring freely without worrying about the camera. You may have liked his on-camera persona (which wasn’t terribly different from his real identity), but his real-self was much more appealing. He seemed less tense, freer to express himself. He was more charming than you’d originally thought, and, truth be told, you had a teensy crush on him and him being genuine only heightened your feelings. Not that you were about to act on them, that would be completely inappropriate. “Do you see any other ghosts?” He interrupted your train of thoughts. “No, but I do think I hear a kid laughing.” You riffled through your bag, grinning when you found what you were looking for: a toddler-sized xylophone. “A xylophone?” “Yup!” You followed the sound of laughter, finding yourselves in a room. On the floor was a child no older than five. It broke your heart that this child, practically still a baby, was stuck here. “Hi, would it be okay if we joined you?” The kid looked up surprised that you could see him. “U-um, okay.” “Thank you. Would you like a new toy?” His eyes lit up. “You have one? I don’t get any new toys. And most people who come here are really mean.” “We aren’t mean, don’t worry. Here.” You placed the xylophone in front of him and he eyed it curiously. “You hit the little stick against the bars and it makes music, try it.” “Okay.” Keith watched as the toy seemingly played on its own. The little boy looked up cheerfully. “This is fun!” You smiled, happy to bring cheer to the ghost child. “What’s your name? Mine is (Y/N), and this is Keith.” Keith waved toward the wall and you had to redirect his hand in the right direction. “I’m James. My mommy and my friends called me Jamie, though.” “Well, Jamie, would you like to try and move on?” He froze. “Everyone who moves on doesn’t come back…” If he could, his eyes would be filling with tears. “Hey, hey, shh shh shh. It’s okay, you don’t have to. I just thought you might want to cause it’s much more peaceful than this place.” Jamie opened his mouth to speak again, but heavy footsteps interrupted him. He shrunk back with even more fear. “I- I have to go.” He vanished. “What’s going on?” Keith tapped your shoulder as he asked the question. Apparently, he heard the footsteps too. “I've got a bad feeling about those footsteps. Jamie said he had to go because of them.” “Jamie?” “The ghost boy.” “Oh.” “Yeah, come on!” You grabbed his hand, running out the door, but just as you made it to the hallway, the source of the footsteps caught up with you. It was a man, different from the one you'd seen earlier. He was dressed in an old-timey doctor apparel and looked sadistically pleased to have spotted you both. “Patients aren't supposed to fraternize.” “We aren’t patients.” “Oh, then the press then?” His expression turned much darker, “We were not notified that anyone from the paper would be here today.” “We aren’t from the paper.” “In that case, you must be dropping off a new patient, let me see him then.” He reached for Keith and you stepped in front of him protectively. “Kosmo, get Keith out of here.” The dog barked his affirmative and began tugging at Keith’s jeans away from the ghost. “Noncompliant guests will be subjected to medical inspection.” He grabbed your jaw so tight you could tell there would be bruising later. “You seem like an adequate patient. What kind of treatment might you need? Perhaps a lobotomy, the chair? So many options…” You shoved him which proved to be futile as your hands just passed right through him. Meanwhile, Kosmo was making very little progress with Keith because he kept trying to get back to help you. “You have no power over me, Doctor, I am not a patient and you have no right to harm me.” He frowned, before grinning, showing bright sinister teeth. “We shall see about that.” Still holding you by your jaw, he pulled you along. Keith finally got past Kosmo and ran to help you, he caught your arm just before you turned the corner. “They’re with me! Get away from them!” Somehow Keith’s pull had loosened you from the creepy doctor's grip. It gave you enough time to run. The three of you ran all the way to the room you found Keith in originally. You’d lost the doctor for now.

Jamie reappeared as Keith and you were recording; while he only showed up as a questionable blur on the camera, you could see him clear as day. Keith recorded for a minute longer before stopping so that you two could speak to him. “Jamie, it’s good to see you again.” “You and your boyfriend got away from Dr. Franklin, that’s good.” “Yeah the do- Wait, he’s not- we aren’t.” “What did Jamie say?” “Oh, he just said that he was happy we got away from the doctor back there.” “Was that all?” “He may ormaynothavecalledyoumyboyfriend…” You mumbled, making it hard for him to catch what you said. “What?” “He thought you were my boyfriend.” “Oh.” Keith blushed and looked away. “Sorry did I say something wrong?” “No, it’s okay, it’s just we are only friends.” Barely that. “Oh, okay.” A childishly mischievous look flashed over Jamie’s face briefly before he wandered over to Kosmo. After that, you couldn’t hear what he said. Kosmo barked, however, so apparently, he heard Jamie. Before you knew it Kosmo was nudging you towards Keith. “Kosmos, what are you, oof.” After an especially hard nudge, he managed to knock you off balance and straight into Keith’s arms, or more accurately onto Keith’s chest. He caught you, scolding Kosmo while doing so. He wasn’t making any move towards letting you go, though- not that you were complaining. You were sure your face was the same color as the blood you’d seen on Doctor Franklin's clothes. Maybe not the most appealing description, but it seemed accurate. “Um, Keith. Can I move?” “Hmm? Oh, right! Sorry.” He let you go, wringing his hands awkwardly once you'd taken a step back. Were the ghost and the dog trying to play matchmaker? Was it working?

The daylight was fading quickly and the spirit activity was quickly becoming overwhelming. You'd had to dodge Dr. Franklin a handful of times and Jamie had since gotten other children ghost on board the S.S. Make Keith and You Fall in Love. Between the romance fueled shenanigans you’d managed to work information out of the ghosts, after all, you had promised yourself you'd help them pass on. From what you’d gathered, Jamie was ready to move on but was too afraid of the unknown to pass on alone. Another kid, the ghost of a young girl who was tied to this plane of existence because of her grisly murder offered to move on with him if she could. All you had to do was tell the world who killed her. She told you the name and you promised to pass it on and find proof for her. That was good enough for her. All you had to do now was convince Jamie. “Jamie, can I talk to you for a second?” “Sure.” “I know you didn’t sound crazy about the idea at first, but Lilly offered to cross over with you so you weren’t alone.” “I don’t want to go! It’s scary.” “I know, but don’t you want to see your mommy again?” “Mommy will be there?” “Of course, sweetie, and I’m sure she’d be so happy to see you again. And then you wouldn't have to worry about Dr. Franklin anymore either.” “I wanna see her again, but what about you and Keith?” “What about me and Keith?” “Who will make sure you two end up happy too?” “I knew you were the one doing this.” “You both are nice, I wanna help.” “I'll tell you what, if you agree to cross over, I’ll ask Keith if he wants to go get coffee with me.” Jamie crinkled his nose, “Why coffee? That’s icky. And also that’s not what I mean.” You got down on his level and whispered. “Go get coffee is like adult code word for go on a date.” “Whoa, adults use code words? Like spies?” You laughed, “Yeah, like spies.” “OK, but you have to ask him first.”

“Keith, can I ask you something?” He was tinkering with his camera which seemed to have stopped working. “Yeah, what is it?” You steeled your nerves as best you could which wasn’t very much. “Would you like to go get coffee with me, after this I mean.” His eyebrows raised in surprise. Had you been too bold? “That sounds nice, actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jamie raise his thumb in approval and you laughed inwardly. Who knew a ghost boy would make such a good wingman? As promised, Jamie and Lilly starting to pass on, hand in hand. As they did, they got fainter and fainter, and the energy they gave off became less and less obvious until- nothing. You smiled softly. May they rest peacefully. “Are you ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” “You’re the one that asked me out-” “I was making a joke, of course, I’m ready.” You and Keith, much like Jamie and Lilly, also left the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum hand in hand.

#voltron #keith x reader #fanfictions #keith kogane #injury #mod alex

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nth-generation-kpop · 6 years

Text

So Nothing’s Left Unturned

Chapter: 5/?

Word count: ~2000

Summary: Somehow, Woojin couldn’t quite feel bad for ending things. Somehow, Chan couldn’t quite feel bad about kicking Changbin out. Somehow, the two couldn’t quite stay away from each other.

Chapter V -- These Streets

Kim Woojin was in way over his head with this one, and he knew it.

The following Thursday afternoon found him still in a relationship, in a familiar apartment, lying in the arms of one boy but thinking of another. He traced lazy patterns against Doyun’s stomach, wondering how he got this far. He was supposed to be watching some campy, over-testosteroned action film with badly executed dialogue and even worse graphics-- his boyfriend’s favorite type of movie. Woojin spaced out almost immediately, and what his mind wandered to was troubling though not surprising.

After his discussion with Chan at the party, Woojin was convinced he simply needed to put in the work. Relationships aren’t always easy, and this was the part where the work came in. He texted Doyun, feigned loneliness, and they headed back to the party 10 minutes later, together. He said that he didn’t think Doyun would like hanging out with a bunch of his friends and Doyun promised that if he got bored he’d drag Woojin out for something more fun. Half an hour into being there Doyun was anxious to leave and Woojin actively ignored him until it was too blatant to be ignored by their friends. They left, went back to Woojin’s apartment instead. They’d talked about how it seemed harder lately, how they both were having a hard time. They agreed that they were good together, that they would put in more effort, and they spent the night together. It was all good, great, except it wasn’t.

He wasn’t a big party person, but he felt a pang of bitterness as they left. Chan looked sad when he’d said goodbye, and after the talk they’d had he felt incredibly guilty for bailing. Or maybe he was imagining the fake smile and the sadness in Chan’s eyes. Maybe he wasn’t even regretful of having left the party, and feelings from a long time ago were simply peaking through. He’d buried them so long ago that he didn’t know what to do now. He had no idea how to deal with them, right after he’d committed to working things out with his current boyfriend.

Who was boring. And way less genuine than Bang Chan. And had horrible taste in TV.

But the issue was that Woojin was still dating Doyun, actively cuddling with him, while reconsidering his goal to make things work. All he wanted to do was be with Chan again, and that guilt was eating away at him. He sat up, patting Doyun's chest and climbing off the couch.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I've just got an early morning tomorrow. I'm picking up an extra shift, and then I've got class,” Woojin lied smoothly, bending down to kiss Doyun quickly. “I want to get some extra sleep and the movie isn’t… catching my attention.”

“Okay, is everything alright?” Doyun was still half watching the movie, blatantly, and Woojin repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, of course. Just tired.” He grabbed his coat and promised to lock the door on his way out, waving as he tried to leave both quickly and casually.

As he walked, his mind cycled through a million things. He thought about how Doyun was different than all his other relationships. They had a lot in common, Woojin thought, but in all the wrong ways. When he met Doyun he’d been excited to meet someone clean cut, with goals and ambitions and timelines-- who looked so good on paper. He tended to love boys who lived in the abstract, artsy or creative, with lofty goals of Manhattan galleries and Park Avenue high rises. Even the more salt-of-the-earth ones were intelligent, held this intoxicating depth that left Woojin drunk off of their conversations. His boys lit a fire in him, inspired him, and when he met Doyun he felt that same fire.

When he reached his own apartment, he locked the door and then slid to the floor against it, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The fire he felt died out as soon as it ripped through Doyun's paper thin persona, nothing to sustain it further than that besides wishful thinking. They didn't talk about things that didn't matter, let alone things that did. Where he could bring up stupid debates like is lasagna a layer cake for stupid fun with the others, Doyun would just brush them off. ‘That's a weird question’ or ‘why does it matter’ or Woojin's absolute favorite, a dismissive ‘you're so funny.’ They were juvenile questions, and Woojin told himself he must need to grow up. This was a real adult relationship, one that could go somewhere and be stable for a long time. He didn't have to worry about Doyun chasing his dreams in some distant city or moving for an exclusive apprenticeship or secretly living out of his car because ‘starving artist’ was his brand no matter how many clay busts of Janet Jackson or whatever he sold on Etsy. A real adult relationship, latched onto him and sucking his soul right out of his body.

Had he brooded over this long enough to settle the decision to break things off though? Thinking about Chan reminded him how long it had been since he was truly alone, single and not courting the idea of his next relationship through flirtatious something or others. He’d also never craved it before, being single. Of course, with Bang Chan in the back of his mind he wasn't 100% confident that single is what he would be after following his impending break up.

Their little talk ruined everything. He read way too far into what Chan had said about needing time, and hearing his friend talk about not thinking himself worthy of a relationship just made Woojin want to love him fiercely. It made him think back to 2 or 3 years before when they first met, racking his brain for any indication that maybe he'd been wrong. So he did what he always did when he was at a loss with Bang Chan, he texted Jisung.

Woojinnie-hyung Weird question…

Jisungie Is it one of those buzzfeed ‘is water wet’ bullshit questions again? Please no.

Woojinnie-hyung No, it's about Chan. We talked the other day and… I don't know I was just wondering if he's ever dated anyone that you know of?

Jisungie Uhhhh, this feels kind of weird I don't want to talk about him behind his back but no? Unless he's hiding it from everybody and we all know Bang Chan is a terrible liar

Woojinnie-hyung Sorry, I shouldn't put you in this position, it's nothing serious. I'm just curious I guess

Jisungie It's okay, it's because you care about him

Woojinnie-hyung Yeah

Jisungie I'm not going to ask what you talked about because that's between you two but… why now? Why are you curious all of the sudden

Woojinnie-hyung Ahh, well its mostly because of what we talked about. It was the other night at his party

Jisungie Right, I noticed that Doyun showed up really late and you left really early… u okay?

Woojinnie-hyung Yes and no, it’s complicated. I fixed things last weekend but it just ended up breaking things more I think, I don't know

Woojinnie-hyung He's not what I want.

Jisungie No offense but I could have told you that a month ago

Woojinnie-hyung Wow thanks

Jisungie I know it's a shitty thing to say but it's true

Woojinnie-hyung I actually kind of appreciate it… I need to hear it so I know I'm not crazy for wanting to break up with him when he's sort of perfect

Jisungie Everybody is perfect for someone, he's just not perfect for you

Woojinnie-hyung When did you get so smart

Jisungie Ahh, I'm blushing But seriously, I've known you for X NUMBER OF YEARS right? I know exactly who you're perfect for by now

Woojinnie-hyung Oh really, well send them my way why don't you

Jisungie Now where is the fun in that? I may have been Cupid for Halloween but this love god is all about autonomy 😜 you know what you're doing, just trust yourself

Woojinnie-hyung What would I do without you, Jisung?

Jisungie Let's hope for your sake you never have to find out

“If you're going to stay there that's fine, but I think Seungmin is on his way home…” a voice came from the doorway to the kitchen, making Woojin jump.

“Shit, hi.” Woojin hauled himself off the floor and smiled at his roommate. “I didn't realize you were awake.”

Hwang Hyunjin was a dancer, one with incredible discipline and a fairly rigid routine that had him in bed by 10pm and out of the house for training by 7am every day. Some weeks he felt like he barely saw the boy, let along talked to him except on weekends. He was tall, lithe, and one of Woojin's most talented and hardworking friends. They'd moved in together on a whim when Hyunjin was a freshman along with Kim Seungmin and it had been a roaring success.

“Yeah I’m awake... are you okay?”

Woojin sighed. “I’m… okay.”

“You sure?”

“Nope.” Woojin smiled, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder and heading down the hall.

“You can talk to me. Seungmin too,” Hyunjin said, making Woojin turn around.

“I… thanks. I might take you up on that sometime, but uh… not tonight?”

“Yeah, sure. Just… we like you, I consider you as a friend not just a roommate. I hope you feel that way too.”

Woojin smiled, crossing the room to hug Hyunjin. “I really do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They parted ways, and at least Woojin went to bed feeling lighter. Doyun or not, he’d always have his friends, and that’s all he really needed.

If only that didn’t get him thinking about Bang Chan once again, he would have slept soundly that night.

~~~~~

A couple days later, Chan’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he was closing his fridge. He half expected it to be his mother or his father, maybe one of his siblings, but he definitely didn’t expect the name that flashed at the top of his screen. Setting aside the cold bottles, Chan hesitated a moment before answering the call in a low voice. “Hey.”

“Hi. Chan.” He said it as if he was surprised, as if it was two separate thoughts. Not quite a question, but as if he was reassuring himself of something.

Chan didn’t know how to answer. “You never actually call me.”

“I call you!”

That made him smile. “You text me, that’s different,” he pointed out.

Woojin hesitated. “I call you”

Chan clicked his tongue. “You call me when I’m late for something and—” he stopped short. “And when you break up with your boyfriends”

“Yeah.” Something stirred in Chan’s stomach as they sat in silence, and he pulled the phone away from his ear to check whether Woojin had hung up. “I should call more”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I wasn’t… happy. This thing with Doyun, it was throwing everything off. It’s good.”

“I was actually just going to order takeout… do you want to come over?”

“Yeah, I was… well I’m standing outside that ramen place you like, so I could pick that up? I was going to pick that up, but then I thought I should make sure you weren’t busy.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“I know your order, can I be there in half an hour?”

“Of course, come over whenever.”

“Thanks Chan.” There was a sadness in Woojin’s voice that Chan didn’t quite recognize, a longing that hadn’t been there for all the other boyfriends. It tore at his heart, but at this point he wasn’t sure if that was because he was seeing his friend in pain, or because he was seeing a man he had feelings for broken up over another.

“Of course,” he said, but Woojin had already hung up.

He stared at his phone until Woojin’s contact photo disappeared, then he quickly turned around and stuck his head into the living room. Changbin sat cross-legged on his couch, mouth open, chopsticks poised to stuff a dumpling into his mouth until Chan called his name.

“Sorry. I need you to leave. And take the food with you.”

“Now?” The younger boy looked down at their numerous takeout boxes.

“Yes. Share with Felix, or keep it for leftovers, I don’t care I just need you to be gone by the time Woojin gets here.”

Changbin gave him a knowing look. “Jisung said he was going to--”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you’re what?” He raised an eyebrow at Chan, almost judging. “Be here to pick up the pieces like always.”

“That’s enough for me,” Chan assured him (and himself).

Changbin huffed, shoving the dumpling in his mouth and beginning to pack up the rest. “It shouldn’t be. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“It does,” Chan said. “For now, at least, it does.”

#stray kids #stray kids au #skzwriters #woochan #chan #woojin #so nothings left unturned #once again its not edited so sorry fam #I just went back and fixed <adjective> in part 2 #rip #mine #what do i even tag my stuff lol

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