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oraclekleo · 2 years ago

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10 Non-Spiritual and Non-Magical Benefits of Tarot

Tarot card reading hobby has many benefits and can truly enrich your life on many levels.

It can improve and deepen your spiritual abilities, help you to communicate with the unseen, or it can allow you to indulge in divination practice. You can use tarot in your magical rituals, for your spells and, if you fancy, to summon the devil. Joking... maybe. Tarot is a pretty universal tool as you see but that's all it is. It's a tool. It's not evil, it's not good, its character depends on the person who uses it.

And as a tool, tarot can be used by a variety of people. Are you not interested in spiritual topics, other realms, communicating with guides or angels, and magic? Are you more of a scientist and atheist type of person? Do you think tarot has no use for you?

I'm here to tell you about 10 beneficial uses of tarot that have nothing to do with magic or spirituality. It's simply to show that even pragmatics to the bone can use and enjoy tarot.

10 Non-Spiritual and Non-Magical Benefits of Tarot

1) Meditation

It has been proven number of times that meditation has tremendous benefits for your health such as:

Gaining a new perspective on stressful situations

Building skills to manage your stress

Increasing self-awareness

Focusing on the present

Reducing negative emotions

Increasing imagination and creativity

Increasing patience and tolerance

Lowering resting heart rate

Lowering resting blood pressure

Improving sleep quality

Some studies also suggest that meditation can help with medical condition symptoms like:

Anxiety

Asthma

Cancer

Chronic pain

Depression

Heart disease

High blood pressure

Irritable bowel syndrome

Sleep problems

Tension headaches

(Source)

If you're like me, you can't just sit down and focus on breathing and emptying your mind. It feels like I am wasting time. Rationally I know it's not true but I have tried to meditate multiple times and it wasn't a success. However, there are many different ways you can 'meditate'. Some people achieve the same peace of mind while doing yoga, some read poems and then spend several minutes reflecting on them which has the same effect like meditation. I have achieved this sort of calmness through reading tarot cards. Every day I get up, stretch a little and then I do the daily pull of a card. I usually pull from 3 decks (tarot and oracle ones), note the cards down in my tarot journal, read the meanings in the guidebook (if there's any) and then study the imagery of the cards and reflect on their meanings. It doesn't feel like a waste of time because my mind is actually doing something, exploring and investigating the card. At the same time it's 10 minutes every day, I have for myself, my breath deepens automatically while examining the cards. It's just like meditation.

If you can't make yourself sit still and focus on breathing every day, tarot can be a good alternative. Examining the imagery is simple, you don't need any magical rituals, you don't need your spirit guides to accompany you.

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2) Journal prompt

Journaling is a popular way to record your thoughts regularly. Sometimes you have many things to write about and it's so easy to put your thoughts on paper (or screen). However, not always you feel that kind of drive, sometimes you might struggle to find the right words to express what you feel or think or what happened to you. And it can also happen if you don't want to directly describe the events or emotions (they can be still too raw or hurtful).

When, for whatever reason, you struggle to journal, you can use tarot as a prompt. Simply pull a card and journal record your thoughts that come to your mind observing the card. Maybe there's a specific symbol on it reminding you of something. Maybe the figure looks a bit like the person you know. Maybe some of the key words or meanings trigger long buried memories. You can draw a simplified picture of the card into your journal or only the symbols you find interesting.

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3) Art inspiration

Every artist needs a muse but sometimes those ladies are giving the artist a silent treatment. It can happen to anyone. Tarot cards with their rich imagery can easily serve as little inspiration whenever the muses grow quiet. You can pull multiple cards and combine the symbols in your art or you can read about their meanings and find inspiration there.

It's possible to use the meanings as artistic exercise as well. You can design your own card based on its meaning, with different imagery. Many decks are so beautiful they practically contain 78 little pieces of art. It's a little bit like a gallery in your drawer or pocket.

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4) Creative writing prompt

When you combine the previous two benefits, you get a creative writing prompt. There's nothing easier than pulling a few cards from your tarot deck and writing a story inspired by those cards. It can be used as literary exercise for creatives. The varied imagery can be very inspiring and you don't even need to know the meanings of the cards to sit down and write a story or a poem.

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5) Game play

Tarot is still a card game, even if it is a specific one. You can use the deck to play games of various kinds. Some tarot decks are especially made for this specific use.

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6) Chores and errands planning

We all need to be at least a little organised to be productive in life. Maybe you have a variety of planners, schedules, to-do lists to stay focused on what needs to be done. You can easily use the cards to represent specific activities, duties and errands then pull them and sort into your daily schedules in a more fun way. If you live with other people, they can pull cards to know what their duties will be in the following week. For example you associate Ace of Cups with dishwashing. Whoever will pull the Ace of Cups from the deck is going to wash the dishes in the following week. The Death card can symbolise taking out the trash and whoever pulls it, will handle that house chore. You get the idea.

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7) Psycho-Analysis

If you follow my blog for a longer time, you might have noticed that I don't use the tarot cards as much for magical purposes as I prefer to conduct psychological and behavioural analyses with them.

Even one of the fathers of modern psycho-analysis, C. G. Jung considered tarot to be useful in order to better connect with the more hidden sides of one's personality. Tarot cards use the universal language of symbols and archetypes and they can tackle and trigger issues we might tend to miss or avoid facing. Modern psycho-therapy acknowledges tarot as a self-therapy tool and it's a simple, easily accessible way to maintain and enhance mental well-being in the comfort of your home. Tarot can provide clues and clarity on your private issues, give you some peace of mind, give you a sense of order. There are no limits for tarot. You can simply spread the cards in front of you and what you see will mirror the state of your mind. That way you can better identify what's currently bothering you, give it a name and shape and work towards resolving the issue with a clear plan.

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8) Meaning of dreams

It's tightly connected with the previous piece. Dreams are our brain's way to deal with unresolved issues or how to process information it gathered through the day. Many times we don't remember a single thing we dreamt about after we wake up, it's not necessary because what needed to be processed was processed. However, sometimes the dream stays with us till sunrise and we can clearly recall detailed aspects of it. And it can be bothersome as dreams don't always make sense at first glance. Tarot can help with that as well. The imagery and meanings can give clues towards understanding what the issue your mind was trying to process was about. And it's still not magic. You will automatically notice the symbols and metaphors and parallels associated with your dream and whatever issue or problem it was dealing with. The cards will give you clues, road signs if you want, to navigate through your dream and your subconscious mind and you probably will be able to tell what was it that triggered it. (Please, if you believe that dreams are messages sent by higher powers, your guides or spirits, it's perfectly fine and in that case you can use tarot to decipher those messages but this post is about the non-magical and non-spiritual uses of tarot. Thank you for understanding.)

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9) Affirmations

It has been proven that making affirmations can help us achieve our goals or feel better or simply start the day on a positive note. If you're not good at making up affirmations for yourself you can either use the many sources online or you can use tarot cards. Pulling a card daily and reciting a positive message associated with it to yourself can help you to set the right mood for the day. You can pull more than one card and create more complex and personally meaningful affirmations for yourself. Once again, there are no limits to your creativity.

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10) Whatever comes to your mind, really

I'm going to cheat here a little bit. :-)

I have mentioned it multiple times in the previous points but tarot is really universal and super versatile. There are no limits to your creativity. There's no wrong way of using tarot. Do you want to use it for scrapbooking? Sure! Do you want to hide cards around the house or garden and let teams search for them like if it was an Easter Egg hunt (for higher difficulty set a rule that one person can only collect a suit of Wands, another one suit of Swords, etc.)? Go for it! There are even tarot cards made of plastic so you don't have to worry about them being damaged by water, mud and whatever substance. There are countless designs of the decks, so you can pick the one that you like the best. Nobody says you should have a classic Rider-Waite-Smith deck. You can enjoy animal, horror, sci-fi, romance, literature themed decks.

Be creative and have fun!

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Closure:

As you see, you can use tarot cards for many activities and purposes. Not all of them are magical, some can be pretty pragmatic and based in science.

What are the unusual things you use tarot for? Do you have any tips for the rest of us?

Please understand that this post is based on my personal opinion and you are free to disagree with me. I’m in no way telling you to use tarot in the way I have described, I simply presented some options to you and your individual way regarding tarot is utterly in your hands.

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Thank you for reading!

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#tarot #oracle kleo

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redquartzofthedesert · 2 years ago

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This isn’t a super well-considered post but I think part of my sympathy for like, “invisible” forms of non-normative sexual and gender variation stems from having lived as a mostly closeted and normatively-presenting trans person. And part of it is that I knew I did have a non-normative gender identity (that I rejected my assigned gender and identified with some alternative gender-- at the time, I identified as nonbinary more strongly than other identity positions). So there was the anxiety of managing how that information came out and how it impacted me.

But I also will fully cop to the fact I didn’t actually experience much direct transphobia at the time. I wasn’t getting discriminated against, called slurs on the street, given dirty looks at the grocery store. There was no legislation targeting people living like me. People never would have guessed that I was trans, and there was no institutional paper trail attesting to that. My sole social expression of my non-binary identity happened in “lower-risk” contexts-- with friends, at trans support groups. (Though the fact I came out to my therapist and she billed my insurance for “gender dysphoria” complicates this narrative a bit-- still, I wasn’t public about it.) There is a gradient of how much a risk it entails to express one’s non-normative gender identity. I existed at the low-risk end of the continuum.

As I said above, though, I still had to live with the psychological and social ramifications of having this non-normative gender identity, that I wanted to have socially recognized but felt like I’d get roundly rejected for. Maybe this is just because I am a pessimist, but I always knew I had done something contentious and weird by internally gendering myself as other than my assigned gender, as well as attempting to lead my person life as that gender, that a lot of people had (at best) dismissive opinions about. Every time I introduced myself to new people, I felt the dissonance between how they saw me and how I saw myself, and how long I’d have to maintain what I saw as a misperception. Some of this is classic gender dysphoria and social anxiety, of course, but it’s dysphoria and social anxiety reinforced by a wariness about social rejection. When non-binary identities were legible to my peers, it was as a “crazy Tumblr thing” that discredited people who had them by whatever percent. People made jokes around me about people who demanded people call them a different pronoun, who were unreasonable about it. Some people around me probably thought that people came out as nonbinary for clout. Hahaha.

So in some sense, I always had to live with certain psychological and social problems, even in the closet, even when I looked like someone who had made minimal social and aesthetic and medical changes, who was possibly claiming a trans identity for “clout”. There was something “wrong” with my subjectivity and with my identity, that I found hard to ignore for the sake of looking reasonable and dignified. I withdrew socially. I missed certain opportunities I’d otherwise have, certain relationships I’d like to form. I didn’t date anyone, because dating made zero sense. I blamed myself for my failures because I felt it was my responsibility to manage my gender dysphoria, alone, and that I was hurting trans liberation with my liberal idealist snowflake identity. I tried very hard to undo my “faulty” subjectivity, to make how I thought and I felt about myself rigorously “material” and politically correct, but when people asked me to comply with those norms, that required ongoing effort. But I could fix my deficiencies in intellect and character, if I just tried hard enough. What else to call that but internalized transphobia, from someone who thought they were committing a major thoughtcrime by not identifying as “materially cis”?

There were other things going wrong with me I’m not going to get into, because I feel we veer into trauma porn. And, like, I’m not giving an account of my problems because I want to wallow in that suffering or for anyone to tell me I’m valid. I moved away from that life because it didn’t make any sense and it suffocated me; that matters a lot more to me than whether individual Internet strangers think I’m a dilettante faking my gender identity. Which, fuck off, my subjectivity is just as real as yours. You don’t have to identify with me or agree with my analysis, but I’m still here.

And I’m still privileged among trans people, but I’ve given an opportunity for people in my life to say the pathologizing things that I worried they would say, and people on the street to at least think I’m not a very gender non-conforming member of my assigned gender. Sometimes people have said the pathologizing things, and also now I think about how people interact with my visible difference. The pathologizing stuff makes me feel stressed out and wary and less trustful; ditto for the fact I’m visibly gender variant. But in some ways, I hate my life a lot less, and I’m neurotic about gender stuff, but I have more friends now. I feel less “trapped”, because my life isn’t a gauntlet of DBT distress tolerance skills.

So, yeah, I guess I’m broadly sympathetic to the kinds of non-normative sexuality and gender experience that aren’t visible. I’m sympathetic to theorizing forms of psychological and social harm that come from repeatedly getting told that your difference doesn’t matter --and-- that there is something wrong with you --and-- that you must not reveal your non-normative experience (stop hitting yourself), in different contexts. That you’ll be okay if you just never talk about your weird thing, and if you do that’s on you as an individual to manage. That’s a very painful and confusing set of injunctions to live under, honestly. I don’t think it stops being painful and confusing, and fundamentally unfair, for people who occupy those illegible and invisible non-normative identities, just because I am one of the good ones who went on to have a more conventional trans narrative. Coming out did not make the suffering and privation of the closet real. Experiencing it did.

I don’t think these narratives of illegibility and invisibility, or the rule of thumb that people should get given the benefit of the doubt when they claim non-normativ identities, should detract from recognizing the fact that it’s costly, sometimes actually unsafe, to move through the world as a visibly queer/trans person, and that people with multiple visible marginalized statuses and/or less access to material resources generally have it worse. Duh. We can’t have a liberation movement or serious sociological discussion without pointing out that some people have experienced more intense and ongoing threats to their material and psychological well-being. But I don’t think it does anyone favors to say that other forms of harm aren’t possible and that people are perfectly safe in the closet, or moving through the world in an “invisible” or “illegible” fashion. Maybe sometimes they are, and certainly reflexivity about one’s privilege has its value, but I wasn’t safe or happy.

I dunno. I’m shouting into the void here. But this forms the basis for why I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, and why I see a lot of oppression as a gradient or dimensional, not an on/off switch. There is also some other stuff about my non-normative sexuality, but that’s for another post.

#Gender and sexuality

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

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GOJO SATORU || ends of the earth

request: can i request a scenario where Gojo and non-shaman!F!reader are on their first date, and they visit the beach to watch the sunset, and gojo suggests they head near the water to dip their feet in for bit because why not? turns out f!reader has a phobia of the ocean due to an incident when she was younger, which is a shocker bc f!reader appears to be very confident and fearless and independent . at first, gojo finds this sorta funny, but after seeing the severity of her fear, he tries to help her conquer her it. she climbs his back as he heads towards the shallow end of the ocean, just where the oceans crashes on the shore (after a lot of convincing on gojo’s part). 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕 just something really fluffy while showing the goofy side of gojo, and his soft and considerate side! thank you!!!!

note: honestly, i love this idea honestly cx this is so cute - i can see gojo doing this for his lover if she is scared cx it’s very fluffy and such a fun thing to write for c: also I changed it so that they are both dating for awhile, since i struggled a lot writing it the other way around lol cx but i think this isn’t that bad??? so i hope you don’t mind~

pronouns: she/her

The smell of the ocean was the first thing that hit your senses once you got out of your car, glancing over at your boyfriend to see him smiling widely at the sight of the quiet beach before you two. Today will be the first time in awhile that you get to see your boyfriend, with him busy being a sorcerer fighting curses across Japan. Because of this, you two decided that a date was in order.

Hence why you two found yourselves at a beach after you two made some simple picnic food to eat. “God, I can’t remember the last time I saw a beach.”

“Don’t make yourself sound so old.” You said with a soft smile as you grabbed the beach mat whilst he grabbed the basket with the food you prepared, Gojo just giving you a cheeky smile in response as he lowered his sunglasses a little, revealing his beautiful glowing blue eyes over the round rims of his sunglasses. “You love me regardless.” Was his simple response, to which you just raise an eyebrow at him before you locked the car behind the both of you. “I’ll let you think that’s the case then.”

Ignoring his dramatic gasp, you made your way down the entrance of the beach, walking down the steps leading towards the sandy beach. If you were being honest, if you had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen the beach to have your date at. When you were younger, a huge wave had swept you out to sea once; and if it wasn’t for a nearby surfer who heard your mother’s cries for help, you would have drowned. Ever since then, you had never stepped a foot into the ocean anymore.

However, you’ve never told your boyfriend this fact. Maybe it was because it didn’t come up, or maybe it’s because you were embarrassed - but you’ve never told him that you had an insane fear of the ocean. Hence why now, while you watched him try to pick the best spot to have a nice picnic by the beach together, you were trying to not show how nervous and awkward you were as you stood on the warm sand.

You had wanted to say something to him about the beach, but when you saw how excited he got at the idea to visit somewhere as simple as a beach, the words got stuck in your mouth. Since you weren’t in swimwear, you had decided that there was no harm just sitting on the coast. So, you swallowed you anxieties and walked towards your excited boyfriend, helping him set the beach mat down before you two settle down on the slightly rough and scratchy surface of the beach mat.

Soon the food was unwrapped and you two were laughing and joking with one another as you slowly went through the sandwiches you made from home. Besides the simple cold cut sandwiches, there was also the strawberry sando that Gojo had begged for you to make earlier. “See, isn’t this nice?” Gojo grinned as he looked over at you, dressed in a simple shirt and a pair of shorts, his skin seeming to glow underneath the slowly setting sun in the horizon. You could barely take your eyes away from how gorgeous and effortless he looks just sitting there, eating his sandwich.

You swear it wasn’t fair how perfect he was.

“You say this when you drag me away from work to cuddle you on the couch.” You commented back with a soft grin as you raised the chilled bottle of milk tea you had purchased at the petrol station when you were filling up on petrol. Gojo hums at the memory as he grins over at you, grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth clean. “Princcess, you should know how much I enjoy spending any time I can with you.” He said with an innocent shrug, to which you just smiled at him warmly, knowing that underneath the teasing tone was him telling you the truth.

It made your heart warm, but you didn’t miss the chance to tease him a little. “And here I thought Mr Playboy Gojo will never settle down.” You tossed back teasingly, remember how Ieiri had mentioned that you had somehow managed to tame the flirtatious and womaniser Gojo when you first met his long time friend and co worker. Gojo just grins before he leans over to peck your lips softly, causing a light flush to travel up to your cheeks at how spontaneous that kiss was.

“Well, what idiot would let such an amazing woman slip through his fingers?”

His words caused your blush to deepen as you reached over to push his face away from yours, trying to hide your blush behind your free hand as he laughs and kisses your palm gently. With that the both of you returned to your food, slowly making your way through the rest of it. Then sunset had started to paint the beach in an array of beautiful colours just as you were packing up the rest of your cutlery.

Gojo tosses the tissues back into the basket as his sapphire blue eyes now on full display as he enjoys the sunset. “Princess, leave the basket for a bit.” He suddenly said as he looks over at you, causing you to pause as you tighten the bottle of half finished milk tea in your hands. “I want to walk along the water for a bit, the water looks extra nice today. And if I had an extra pair of clothes, I would have jumped in awhile go.” He ranted as he got up, dusting his shorts off; and somehow completely not noticing how you froze in fear at the idea of going to the water.

At first Gojo didn’t notice that you didn’t up with him until he was half way towards the shore when he realised that you aren’t behind him. Looking back curiously, he noticed how you seem to be frozen on the beach mat. “Hello? Earth to Y/N?” He called back to you with a confused frown, which only deepen when he realised that you looked too pale for his liking. At first he had no idea what was wrong with you until something clicked in his head, causing him to frown even more.

When Gojo firs met you, he admired the fact that you were fearless. You do not have Cursed Energy, yet you are able to see Curses - which was how Gojo saved you from becoming the next target of a Second Grade Curse. Well, when he got there you were handling yourself well - smacking the monster like Second Grade with your frilly pink umbrella, yelling at how it should ‘keep your disgustingly slimy and wet hands off my clean sweats’ while you assaulted the poor Curse. You weren’t doing much damage, yet at the same time the Curse was completely terrified of you to actually make a move.

Gojo actually watched for a few moments before going over to help you, asking how were you planning to exorcise the curse with your pink umbrella. Only to barely dodge you smacking his head with it. It was that moment when he knew you were the one though.

So you can’t blame him at how confused he was at to why someone who is brave enough to attack a Curse without a weapon looked terrified of the lightly crashing waves of the ocean. “Hey.”

Your eyes snapped towards a pair of glowing blue eyes, blinking rapidly as you tried to calm you slightly erratic breathing. However, you can never hide from your observant boyfriend, who frowns even more before he takes your shaking hands in his. “Y/N, are you afraid of the ocean?” He asked you in a soft voice, to which you just made a face before quietly looking away, as if you didn’t want to answer his question. Yet that alone gave him the answer he needed to know. “Princess, why didn’t you tell me? We could have went somewhere else if you are scared.”

Immediately your eyes looked over at his for a moment before looking down at your lap once more. “I just...you looked so happy, asking to come to the beach.” You mumble quietly, trying to take your hands back from his so you can fumble with your fingers out of habit. Gojo stopped that, squeezing your fingers between his as he tries to catches you gaze; realises that you were actively avoiding it. Eventually he lets your hands go in favour of cupping your face in his hands, forcing your eyes to look up at him.

“Y/N...you should never force yourself to do something you’re not comfortable with.” Gojo mumbles softly with a frown, to which you just bite your lip before you glanced away from his ever knowing eyes - knowing that deep down he was right. “You should never put yourself through something you’re not comfortable with, even if it’s for me.” He mumbles with a soft frown, to which you just let out a soft but shaky sigh, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest.

“But you always do so much for me..”

For a moment there was just silence before you felt Gojo nudging the side of your face with his nose, causing you to look up at him with nervous eyes. “I’ve got an idea.” He commented with a soft smile, something that was rare for you to see on his face as well. This caused you to raise a curious eyebrow as he grinned softly, an eyebrow raised as well. “Why don’t we try and overcome your fear together?”

It took a lot of convincing, and a lot of whines and blushes on your end before you agreed to get on his back. His plan? He plans to walk towards the end of the ocean with you on his back. He promises that he wasn’t going to drop you, and if he did, he’ll buy you bubble tea from the bubble tea store near your apartment. However, it took him giving you puppy eyes before you allowed him to turn your back to him; wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders tightly as you buried your tensed face into his neck.

The soft rumble of Gojo’s chuckle caused you to blush hard, gently kicking your foot out in frustration at him seeming to laugh at you as he started to walk towards the shore. “Cutie.” You heard him mumble softly, which had your heart skipping a beat once more and the blush on your cheeks to darken.

A few more steps and soon you heard the sound of the waves gently crashing onto the shore, causing a shiver of fear to slice through you as you tighten your grip around your boyfriend. “Loosen up, princess. You’re about to choke me.” Gojo said with an amused tone in his voice as he took another step forward, his feet resting on the wet sand beneath them as he tosses you an amused smirk. “We can definitely play tonight if you want.”

His words caused you to blush hard as you pulled your face out of his neck to glare at him murderously, only to be distracted by the crashing waves that were around you. Immediately you clammed up once more as you buried your face back into his neck once more; your entire body shaking from the fear. This cause Gojo’s teasing words to stop at the tip of his tongue as he tighten his grip on your legs, feeling bad that you looked so scared of the ocean. “We can go back if you want.”

At first you thought about it before you shook your head slowly, taking a few deep breaths to calm your pounding heart. “You sure, princess?” Gojo asks you in a calm yet soft tone, waiting for you to give him another nod before he smiles softly. “Alright. I’ll just stand here. You can look up when you’re ready.” He said simply, letting you know that he was just going to just stand here until you’re ready to look up.

It took awhile, but slowly you inched your eyes up to look up at the horizon before you. Only to have your breath taken away at the sight of the sun now setting at the horizon, the warm sunlight panting the world in an array of pinks, oranges, yellows and reds. You watched in awe at how the soft waves seem to reflect the sunset perfectly, creating a beautiful scene before you. The fear you felt inside slowly started to melt away as you watch the scene before you in awe, entrance by something as beautiful as a sunset by the ocean.

You were so distracted that you didn’t notice how Gojo was watching you over his shoulder, love and adoration practically oozing from his very person as he tighten his protective grip around your legs. It was this moment that he vowed that no matter what, he is going to protect you with his entire person.

That you were worth going to the ends of the earth for. Because you are his everything.

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

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onlyfans #1 [ransom drysdale]

A/n: I’ve had this idea for a LONG time, and yesterday it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so I’m trying again today! This is part of a future pseudo-series, because I adore this concept. Also, prepare for cameos!!

Summary: So Ransom lost his inheritance. I hope the title doesn’t spoil his plan to make a living (SMUT) 3.4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, domestic submission, name calling, degradation, dub con (just in case), slight spit play, breath play, taking/selling nudes (lowkey non con here lol) Ransom is a bit of an ass.

absolutely DO NOT READ if any of the warnings mentioned above make you uncomfortable, or if you are under 18!! That being said, enjoy!!!

"Ransom!" you yelled, rummaging through the shopping bag he just left on the counter in the kitchen. "We can't afford-" you scoffed, turning a bottle of wine over in your hands. Feeling yourself fume with anger that was threatening to burst out of you at any time, you placed it back on the counter, and started looking for him around the house, "Ransom, where the fuck are you?"

"Will you stop yelling!?" you heard him groan through the wall.

Rolling your eyes and with genuine rage surging through you, you slammed the door open, so hard it hit the wall behind it. "The fuck is wrong with you? You know we're already fucking tight with money, yet you had to go and buy a $200 bottle of wine!?"

Only after the words left your mouth, did you realize what he was doing. When your eyes landed on his computer screen and you saw him playing Spider Solitaire, you felt like you were actually going to fucking hit him.

"It was the cheapest I could find" he joked, without even bothering to turn around and face you.

"I'm serious right now" you sighed, walking over and snatching his hand from the mouse, "Look at me"

And he did. He turned to look at you, with a roll of his eyes and a displeased grin on his lips, "We're doing fine, you have a good job, what the fuck do you want from me?"

"Only the president could fucking keep up with you, Ransom, I can't afford that kind of crap. If you keep that shit up, we'll both end up on the streets!"

"Don't be so dramatic, doll" he chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down your outer thigh. Grabbing a handful of your ass, he pulled you closer, "Stop worrying, we'll figure something out"

"We'd better. Because soon-"

"We will" he stopped you, grabbing even harder. His fingers sunk into your flesh, and your whole attitude changed in an instant, as you went mellow under his touch.

"Ok, then" you sighed, determined to find another way to go about this.

"Kiss me" Ransom smiled, and you obliged in an instant. He went in open mouthed, his tongue finding yours in an instant. You gave in completely, submitting to him like you always do. The way he bit into your lower lip, a tad harder than you would have considered pleasurable, made you moan softly against his lips.

"You adore me, I know" he smiled, pulling away from you. Ransom nodded towards the door, "Now go make us something to eat" he said, and then turned back to his computer, "I was busy with something"

"Busy" you mocked him, walking out of the room.

The next few hours of the day went by as usual. Ransom was hard around the edges, a difficult man to please - and god knows you had to constantly please him in order for him to accept you. But you got the hang of it, it became your routine, and you didn't mind it one bit. After having lunch, he went out to meet with a friend, while you stayed inside, making yourself busy.

When you two started getting more comfortable with one another, every now and then Ransom would insist on choosing what you wore while you were home alone with him. You loved this kink of his - he was doing it to himself, having you dress up all hot and skimpy only to have his dick get hard about 20 minutes later - it was a win-win situation. So now, still in one of the outfits he had chosen for you, and with your makeup perfectly done, you sat on the living room couch, finishing up your nails. A show about some mysterious crime that took place over 20 years ago was playing in the background, when Ransom entered the room.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" he beamed, walking over to you, blocking your view of the TV.

"She's fine" you smiled, actually surprised with how cheery he was being.

"You love me, right?"

"Of course, baby" you giggled, "So much"

"Good" Ransom said, his smile fading. "Put this on-" he added, throwing a small red paper bag into your lap, "And then come into the bedroom"

"Are you only ever nice to me when you want something?" you sighed, watching him as he walked out of the room.

"Don't be ridiculous" he laughed, "If I had to be nice every time I wanted something from you, I'd combust"

For a second, you remained dumbfounded. 'He's an asshole, but he's your asshole and you love him' you told yourself, before gathering the courage to open the bag and peak inside. Black lace. Your mouth fell open as you pulled the lingerie out - there was so little material you barely even realized how it was supposed to go. And those little patches of material? Almost completely transparent. You felt a little bit of anxiety curse though your body, but put on in nonetheless. Feeling entirely naked, you put the robe back on over the lingerie, and headed to the bedroom.

In an instant, you spotted Ransom sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone. Once he noticed you, he pointed to the bed.

"Take that off and lay down"

Halfheartedly, you listened to him, and then padded over to the bed, wondering what you did wrong. You sat down and leaned back, watching him march up to you.

"Not like this" he said, effortlessly spinning you around to lay on your stomach. "Ass up"

Swallowing thickly, you arched your back and perched your ass up. "What's going on?" you questioned, already getting wet under his hungry stare.

"Shut up, baby" he whispered, groping your thighs and hips. "Stay like this, ok?"

You weren't going to object, but when you felt him distance himself from the bed and walk across the room, your curiosity got the best of you, "Why?"

"Told you something, pet" he threatened, "Keep that sweet little mouth of yours shut. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yeah, ok" you whined.

The anticipation was killing you. The tension between your legs was getting more and more difficult to ignore, and rubbing your thighs together proved futile. A powerful wave of eagerness washed over you when you heard Ransom walk over. You didn't even get to wonder what he was doing, before he slapped your ass hard. You gasped in surprise, but you didn't get a chance to react before he went again. Slap after slap, each growing in intensity against your sensitive skin.

The only thing that interrupted your whines were a few soft moans, as you kicked your legs and squirmed under him, "Fuck-"

"Does it hurt?" Ransom asked, spanking your ass one more time.

"Yes" you cried.

"Good, baby" he hummed, rubbing your inflamed skin. He wasn't as gentle as you wished, his touch burning all the way down to your bones.

You tried to wiggle away, but he was quick to stop you, "Daddy's not finished with you yet. It has to hurt, ok? You need to be Daddy's good little slut and take it"

"I am" you nodded.

"What are you?" he asked, his smile audible in his tone.

"Daddy's good little slut" you repeated, your own words making the pain between your legs skyrocket.

"That's right, pet. That's why you're gonna take all that Daddy has to give you, even if it hurts, yeah? Daddy always knows better than you" Ransom said.

You nodded again, bracing yourself for the impact. But it didn't come. Instead you felt him play with your ass, working strong, marron bruises into your skin. As you started to relax and get used to the feeling, he grabbed your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You love this, don't you, doll?"

"I do" you squealed, fisting the cotton bed sheets into your palms.

"Such a wet cunt for me" he said, tracing your opening with his pointer finger, "Practically begging for my cock, always fucking ready to be ruined"

You whined, the pressure he was applying only managing to drive you even crazier. "Please-"

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me"

"No, baby" Ransom chuckled, rubbing his hand over the curve of your ass, "Not tonight"

"But Daddy-" you began to protest, but your words were cut short by another spank, this one hitting differently.

With your skin already on fire, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to tears with every slap delivered. Unconsciously, you started to pull away from him, but that didn't stop him in any way. Ransom kept going until he felt you'd had enough, only then stopping. "Good girl" he spoke, leaning down to kiss the skin he had just abused, "You take it so well, baby. You're a gem"

"Thank you, daddy" you moaned, shuffling around the bed. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but he stopped you again.

"On your knees, baby, c'mon" he commanded, pointing to the fluffy red carpet next to the bed. "Daddy deserves to have his cock sucked, doll, so get to it"

Without even thinking twice, you jumped off the bed and sunk to your knees, hands on his thighs as you looked up at him.

"Always so hungry for my cock" he shook his head, lacing his fingers through your hair, "I'm gonna record you, angel, but don't freak out. Just suck my dick like you do everyday, yeah?"

"Ok"

"And take that bra off, I wanna see your tits"

You obliged in an instant, heart beating out of your chest. When he pulled out his phone and pointed the camera down at your face, you gulped, but then nodded eagerly, big doe eyes trained up at him. Ransom didn't wait any longer before he shuffled out of his jeans, his massive, already hard cock springing out.

Although slightly anxious about having a phone pointed at you, you fought to not let it bother you. Rubbing your hands up and down his length a few times, you looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Open that whore mouth for me, yeah?" Ransom commanded.

As soon as you followed his order, he bent down, spitting on your tongue. With your eyes locked onto the camera, you swallowed and then opened your mouth again.

"Want more, huh?" he laughed, playing with your hair.

"Yes, please!"

"How about you throat my cock first, and then we'll see if you deserve it?"

Without even giving him any kind of approval, you went in, bringing the tip of his cock into your mouth. You sucked wholeheartedly, hollowing your cheeks around his massive member. Bopping your head up and down, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his tip against your tongue. When you felt yourself prepared enough, you pushed yourself further along his cock, allowing it to brush past the back of your throat. Your gag reflex instantly kicked in, but you fought it, remaining in place.

"That's right, angel-" Ransom grunted, gripping the roots at the top of your head into his hand.

Feeling your oxygen supply run low, you wanted to pull away, but he wasn't having it. He easily controlled your movements, pushing his cock even further down your throat.

"Angel-" he panted, as you struggled against his hold, "You were made to be face fucked"

You had your arms wrapped around his strong thighs, your manicured nails sinking into his skin, hoping you'd get his attention. It didn't work.

By the time he let you go, you had tears running down your cheeks, your mascara almost reaching your chin. You fell backwards, desperate for a breath of air.

"You look better with your makeup like this, love" Ransome laughed, wiping your tears with the back of his fingers, "Suits you"

After regaining your composure, you pushed yourself back up, getting ready to resume your work. However, Ransom had other ideas as he grabbed his member, slowly pumping it in his own hand.

"Tongue out, slut" he said.

You listened to him, and felt a rush of ecstasy course through you when he slapped his cock against your tongue and then your cheeks. His tip was already leaking precum, and you swallowed obediently every drop that landed inside your mouth.

"You want it back?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes"

"Balls first, baby"

Bracing yourself against his thighs, you leaned forward, connecting your lips to the soft skin of his balls. You sucked deeply, applying the kind of pressure you knew would drive him crazy. "Fuck, fuck, yes, come on-" he grunted, bucking his hips into you.

You were nowhere near done when he grabbed your hair again and manhandled you to take his cock down your throat. Your frame fell limply under his hold, as you forced yourself to relax and obey him for as long as you could.

"That’s right-" he moaned, "don't fight it. You know that's my favorite thing about you? The way you worship my dick, you fucking slut"

As he spoke, he forced you deeper down his cock. No matter how hard you tried to resist, you couldn't help but start to squirm around, trying to push him away.

"Don't be a fucking bitch, Y/n" Ransom huffed, keeping you in place, as your throat muscles constricted around his tip, "Just fucking take it"

With a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face, you slapped his thighs frantically, until he finally allowed you to breathe again.

"I'm so fucking close, baby" he grinned, as you panted your lungs away. "Look up at me, I wanna see those that dumb look in your eyes whenever you take my cock"

Mouth agape as you still worked on regulating your breathing, you looked up, right into the camera. "That's it! Yeah, that's my slut, I can see it in your eyes, baby"

If it were up to you, you would have waited more. But Ransom was having none of that. Instead, he grabbed your hair again, this time controlling your movements completely. He forced your mouth along his cock, bopping your head up and down until his hips started shaking and he couldn't take it anymore. Proud with yourself for getting through this without panicking, you leaned back and opened your mouth.

Ransom's grunts and pleasure filled moans filled the room, as his cum started shooting out of his cock. Little droplets ended up inside your mouth and on your lips, and maybe intentionally or by mistake, he shot a few pumps on your cheeks and in your hair. But you remained there, motionless, waiting for his next move.

With the phone still pointed at you, Random used his thumb to gather all the cum you had missed, before shoving his finger into your mouth.

"Always eager to suck on something, aren't you?"

You proudly nodded.

After that he threw his phone on the bed, and helped you up. He instantly went in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around your body to play with your ass while his tongue dominated yours. He owned you completely.

"Go run a bath, baby" Ransom said, slapping your ass, "I'll be right there"

"But.." you hesitated, "What about me?"

"What about you?" he asked, cluelessly.

"I didn't finish…"

"It's early, love" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "Let's take a bath now, and then daddy will take really good care of you, yeah?"

And he did. He kept his word. You jumped in the bathtub about 5 minutes later, settling between his legs. He held you in his arms, kissing all along the curve of your neck, playing with your breasts as he kept telling you about his plan to take over his grandfather's company.

Eventually, with you being your needy self, he had you straddle his hips, as he sunk his cock into your pussy. You went limp against his chest, your pussy every now and then clenching around him as he tickled your sides and played with your ass. When the water started to get cold, all it took for you to finish were a few simple rolls of your hips, Ransom following closely behind, much to your surprise.

That night, he didn't ask you to cook anything for him, instead just ordering and sharing a pizza. As you waited for it to be delivered, Ransom ate your pussy into oblivion on the kitchen table, joking about how your cunt was the most delicious thing to ever touch that surface.

The following days went by similarly. He was always down to get dirty, but the one thing that was different now was his constant need to film you. With time you got perfectly comfortable with it, putting on a show for him with every chance you got. It was just a matter of time until you barely even noticed it.

One day, as you ran your usual errands, when you stopped by the bank, something caught your eye. You instantly requested the balance, and you almost dropped the piece of paper when you read the numbers. You paid the cashier a polite goodbye, and stormed out of the bank, your phone glued to your ear.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!!"

But he didn't.

You rushed home, palms sweaty against the steering wheel. God, you hoped it wasn't what it seemed. What troubled you the most, was that you weren’t even 100% mad. There was some other kind of emotion there, but you pushed it aside. As soon as you reached your house, you stormed inside, bursting into Ransom's office without bothering to knock first.

And this time, you caught it. For a split second, you managed to see the video open on his computer, before he switched the tab back to Spider Solitaire.

"You fucking asshole!" you yelled, slamming the piece of paper against his chest, "You sick fuck! You thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Come on, baby" Ransom chuckled, way too relaxed for how enraged you were. He spun his chair around to face you, extending his hand to grab yours, "Relax, I only-"

"You only what?" you interrupted him, "Sold my nudes? Are you insane?"

"Don't talk to me like that-" he threatened, leaning his head to the side, "You know I don't appreciate it"

"And I don't apreciate you posting my sex tapes on the Internet!"

He grinned, "That’s not the same thing"

"Yeah!" you scoffed, throwing your arms into the air, "What you did is so much worse!"

"Careful there, baby" he shook his head.

You wanted to protest again, but he stood up. Ransom took a menacing step towards you, towering over your small frame, the fire in your attitude instantly dying down.

"You don't get to talk to me like that-" he whispered, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "But I'll let it slide this time, doll, because that's exactly why I didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to see you panick a bit"

"Ransom…" you whined, "You should've asked"

He shook his head no, "You know I never ask, I just take. You should've considered this when you decided to be mine"

"I would have been into it, but I still wished you had told me" you said softly, too shy now to even look into his eyes.

"We talked about this, you're mine, I make the calls, not you"

"I know, Ransom, but-" you whined, but he grabbed your cheeks between his hands and stopped you.

"But what?"

You blinked a few times, "But nothing, I'm sorry I yelled, you're right"

"Of course I am" he chuckled, kissing your forehead, "See what happens when you worry, baby? Just be a good little girl and do what you're told without whining and bitching around, and everyone will be happy. We don't have to fight if you listen to me"

"I love you" you pouted, pressing yourself against his chest.

"Love you too, pet" he responded, slapping your ass a few times.

As things finally calmed down, you decided to go change and then return to Ransom's office so he could show you how the page was doing. Just when you were about to walk out the door, he called after you. "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Love, some of the ideas I've gotten over the past few days where actually requests from our subscribers. Today will be fine, nothing new, but tomorrow we have a threesome. Some dude, Lee Bodecker, handsome guy, make yourself pretty, you'll love him!"

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom x reader #dark!ransom #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ranson drysdale fic #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader

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luca-moreno · 3 years ago

Text

@joasakura

So, this prompt response was too.... everything... not to be under a read more.

[comfort] for one muse to stay the night with the other after a hard day

---

When the reports circulated through the ship that more than one phoenix had returned from their mission with half shredded armor and bloodied, the first thing Luca did when finally finishing his duty shift was head straight to Ben’s quarters.

“Ben, it’s just me,” he whispers as he slips into the dim room, tiptoeing past The Head and perching on the edge of the bunk. Ben is a dark shape against the sheets, skin bare save for a pair too loose sweatpants and hair still damp from what Luca hopes is water sluiced off in the shower and not something else. He leans over, peering into the shadows, staying quiet on the off chance Ben is asleep.

He’s not.

Luca makes a small noise of concern as he kicks off his boots and prepares to climb in alongside the vanguard. He’s not sure exactly when it had changed. It had been gradual, like the creep of the tide along the shoreline when the late night visits, Princess Persephone reruns and tangled limbs curled around steady heartbeats turned into something nudging over the line towards more than just a friend. It’s something Luca refuses to draw attention to, like maybe if Ben doesn’t notice him weaselling in under his barriers, then maybe Luca might be allowed to stay.

Luca slides onto the sheets and burrows close against Ben’s warm back. Ben gives him a half-hearted pat back but the motion is weak and tired and Ben doesn’t turn over to face him. Luca tries to scan the room in the dark but he doesn’t see the familiar dispenser anywhere.

“Um. Dr Kate checked you over, right?” He accompanies the whisper with a brush of his fingers along Ben’s arm. “You’ve taken your meds?”

There’s a sigh, and a shift of Ben’s head that Luca takes to be a nod.

“Okay. Um, good. Because you know I’ll go get them for you if you need me to. I know they’re important and after…” Luca recalls Davis whispering urgently in the Captain’s ear, and the way the Commander had bolted from the room when news that the shuttle had returned. Davis told him later, under the oppressive tension permeating the ship that it had been bad down there, enough that though they had been prepped for a fight it had all still gone pear shaped. It should have been routine - A long lost Cerberus lab, a final sweep. The non-augmented humans were kept far away from the danger but even that hadn’t been enough.

Luca gropes for Ben’s hand in the dark. “Are you… Are you okay?”

It takes a little time for Ben to answer and Luca silently applauds himself on not letting his mouth run away to fill the space even though there’s a hundred million things he wants to ask, a hundred million things he wants to say. There was a heaviness in the room, a heaviness to Ben’s quiet that had alarm bells clanging at the back of Luca’s mind and that alone keeps the machinations of his internal dialogue busy.

Ben’s response is barely a word and more than halfway to a slur, like he can’t quite force the word into focus through his fatigue.

“T...tire-,” he mumbles and Luca knows it’s only because lifting a hand to sign it would require so much more energy that Ben voiced anything at all.

“Ben…” Luca sighs helplessly and presses himself closer. Ben is all hard lines against him, as much muscle and bone and whipcord strength even without his enhancements but Luca likes the way they fit together. There’s the faint hint of Alliance issue soap in his hair but pressed close, Luca can still taste the smoke. He doesn’t want to think about what that means, about how Ben must have had to rip off his helmet and dive through the fire down there. Luca can still feel the rattle of the Berlin’s armaments as it had shuddered, unleashing a bombardment to blow away the remains of the base the moment the phoenix were confirmed safe onboard.

He’d wanted to find Ben immediately then and it had halfway killed him that he couldn’t.

Ben exhales against the pillow, so deep and weary Luca knows it’s not his body keeping him awake but the nightmares that loom on the horizon.

Luca presses his lips to the reinforced skin of Ben’s shoulder. There’s a new scar there, already knitted closed and almost smoothed over but Luca has mapped every line of Ben’s form with his eyes if not his touch. He makes a mental note later to ask Ben about his armor, if he’ll let Luca help him fix it.

“I’m here,” Luca whispers into his skin, like it could make some sort of a difference, like it’s not Ben that’s singlehandedly pulled him out of the flames time and time again. Luca wishes he could protect Ben from this, loom over Ben like a guardian angel and beat the nightmares back from his door. He can’t do that but he can wriggle closer and press enough of his own weight over the phoenix that Ben will have no choice but to know Luca is there even in sleep and maybe… just maybe it might help.

There’s a light squeeze of his hand in answer but Ben’s limbs don’t go loose with sleep like Luca had hoped they would. It makes him even more uneasy. Ben was clearly depleted and barely holding on… What exactly happened down there?

He starts to hum a song against Ben’s back, waiting and praying and hoping for the tension to ease – for Ben’s limbs to go lax like he’s used to feeling when they fall asleep together in front of the vid screen but long minutes tick by and nothing changes.

“Benny,” Luca pleads softly. There’s anxiety at the back of his throat that’s just shy of panic. He needs Ben to be okay. “Please… Go to sleep. Rest.”

Ben makes a small sound that’s almost apologetic, like a whimper and Luca burrows ever closer. He curls one arm over Ben and presses his palm to the centre of Ben’s chest. He splays his fingers over his reinforced heart then adds a sweep of his palm over Ben’s tense abdomen. It’s a stray thought, one that’s always lurking around the edges for Luca whenever he thinks of Ben, but it pushes its way to the fore now and it would be easy… so easy to drift that same hand lower, and lower again. Slip right under the waistband of the too loose sweatpants that ride on Ben’s hips.

Luca’s hand freezes, but so does the thought.

Phoenix were different, Harris had whispered to him once, waggling her dark brows and eyes sparkling. They had needs, she told him. Luca had thought she was bullshitting, but there were snatches of conversation he had heard here and there. A murmured comment from his commander, the odd little passing comments between phoenix Knight and his husband, the leers from Ajax…

Luca’s heart thumps in his chest as the thought takes root in the glow of his mind. Just… one drift lower… Maybe it was what Ben needed to finally help him rest? Luca isn’t sure if he should, if they’re quite there in whatever this cocoon they had built around themselves was… And Luca doesn’t want to risk the fragile equilibrium have, not when it’s the best thing he’s ever had. This is something he’s always wanted and Ben is as bright and fierce and full of magic in a way that Luca knows it couldn’t really belong to him. Just on loan from the universe and this… this snatched moment was as ephemeral as a shooting star with the rough dirt of Terra Nova under his feet.

It could be… comfort, Luca tries to tell himself, trying to rationalize away something he’s not sure he understands. Comfort of a different kind, a release to scatter the rough edges that keep Ben from falling completely into the rest his body so obviously needs… Luca closes his eyes and indulges himself for the briefest of moments, letting the thought run away with him and it proves to be a mistake, because indulging even for a moment makes Luca’s blood sing and Ben… Ben is suddenly too silent and too still to not to be aware of the sudden direction of Luca’s thoughts. And Luca knew... he knew Ben could scent it in the air and feel it in the abrupt uptick of Luca’s heart. Luca can only close his eyes and pray that he’ll either mercifully ignore Luca’s shame like he has in the past or-

Ben shifts, ever so slightly, backing into Luca.

The air whooshes out of Luca’s lungs in a startling, heart stopping instant. He tastes copper from where he’s bit his lip too hard but he manages to force a swallow around the lump in his throat. Ben surprises him by weakly throwing one arm back against Luca’s hip but his hand is heavy and his fingers dig in with just enough pressure that Luca wonders if it could be an invitation.

“Um, I… Is it… Ben, are you-“

“’s okay,” Ben whispers and Luca doesn’t stop to wonder whatever reserves he must have dredged to find the energy to voice that.

Luca still hesitates but eventually he drifts his hand slowly over the trail that leads under Ben’s pants, broadcasting his intentions so that there’s plenty of time for Ben to stop him if he changes his mind. Luca almost wants to murmur don’t charge away except that he knows Ben doesn’t have a skerrick of power enough left and he doubts either of them are in the mood to joke. Not about this.

Luca keeps his touch slow, still half expecting his exploration to be halted and warning himself not to be disappointed if it does… only Ben doesn’t stop him and Luca’s hand eventually inches further beneath the waistband. His fingers brush over smooth skin and softer curls before dancing over more. Luca is surprised and breathlessly pleased to find Ben already half hard, and he presses his face into Ben’s shoulder in a strange kind of relief when he realises.

“Ben,” he says, awed and the sound is dragged out of him on the tail end of a moan. If his hand trembles, he doesn’t notice, too intent on his task. He’s suddenly nervous but stubborn enough he refuses to shy away. It’s been a long time since he’s done this but he hopes it’s a skill not easily forgotten and he nuzzles into Ben’s dark hair and breathes in as his fingers skim over Ben’s length with light fingers. Ben is hot and solid in Luca’s hands. It figures that Ben would be beautiful here too.

Luca keeps his exploration soft to start and it’s not until dampness beads against the tip and Ben’s breath hitches in the best ways that Luca’s movements become more sure. He curls his fingers and pulls and drags in undulating waves of fast and slow. He wants to whisper against Ben’s neck as he moves, he wants to ask for reassurance that this is okay, if he’s okay, but he’s terrified if he opens his mouth there will be too much falling out that he can’t put back in, too much he won’t be able to back away from, just too much, too much, too much.

His brief instant of panic dissipates when Ben makes a small sound Luca doesn’t recognize. It’s something he’s never heard from him before and it’s weak and dazed as Luca strokes him. Ben is more than halfway into his post battle exhaustion and Luca realises with a pang of selfish regret that he can’t draw this out, that he can’t use his mouth and-

This isn’t about him, he remembers. This was supposed to be so that Ben could shed off the fight and whatever horrors that tried to follow him back and fall into a mindless sleep. Luca speeds up his pace, mouths along Ben’s shoulder and noses aside his dark hair to press a kiss against the line of a scar against Ben’s nape.

It happens startling quick after that. Ben chokes out a gasp and grips the sheets. He shudders as he spills over Luca’s hand and the breathy whimper wrung out of him is one that Luca wants to catalogue and store in his memory forever but then he finally, finally succumbs and goes limp. Luca spares a lazy moment to nuzzle the soft skin behind Ben’s ear lightly before he tugs his off his own shirt to clean up then curls up against the vanguard once again.

Comfort, he thinks he listens to Ben’s soft breathing as he’s falling asleep himself. Maybe he could be good at that.

#scooter roosevelt #Luca Moreno #luca would not shut up about this im so sorry #*crawls under rock*#*nurses my wine*#it's fine im fine im gonna jump out a building now bye

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delimeful · 5 years ago

Text

WIBAR Intermission: Cultural Differences

a commission for @secretlypansexualmango !! thank you so much for your patience with me during this difficult time, I hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing it! :)

if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story on tumblr here and the ao3 collection here!

warnings: anxiety, tense discussion, mention of nonconsensual drug use, medical experimentation, mention of child abuse, dehumanizing language, flashbacks, PTSD

Logan paced back and forth along his floor, hands strumming the air but not noting any particular information, just… moving. A nervous tic that he’d recently been struggling to repress around Virgil.

Speaking of.

“Patton, you are certain that Virgil will not wonder where you are and come to investigate?” he asked, turning on the balls of his feet to face the little Ampen.

“Yep, I showed him how to use the tech in the washroom and he said something about staying in there all day. Turns out Humans need water to clean, not dirt!” Patton tapped his fingers together consideringly. “Now I feel kind of bad about trying to get him to dust more often, no wonder he’s all grimy.”

Logan forced his hands to still so he wouldn’t record the information. That was the whole reason they were here, after all.

“Why are you so worried about the Human finding us huddling in your bedspace like a bunch of giggling adolescents?” Roman asked, adjusting his armor plates slightly so they didn’t pinch. He perked up for a moment. “Are we finally kicking him out?”

Patton frowned in disapproval at him, and he averted his eyes. “Joking! Just joking, Pat.”

Logan hummed lightly to recall their attention. “I am seeking advice in regards to the Human— or, Virgil, rather, but I don’t want to offend him or give him the wrong idea by openly excluding him from a conversation. Hence, covert gathering.”

Patton brightened— literally, his feathers aglow with excitement. “Oh, why didn’t you say so, Lo!”

Roman sunk further down, a grumble forming in his chest. “Yeah, why didn’t you say so. I don’t think I’ve got much to contribute about him compared to Patton.”

Logan inclined his head slightly in a Crav’n gesture to hold on for a little longer. “While I will admit that you have very different opinions on Virgil, I value both your perspectives equally and as such, would like to hear your honest thoughts on my query.”

Roman didn’t shift, but the grumble eased slightly, placated by Logan’s words. “Alright, what is it?”

Patton nodded encouragingly.“I’m all ears, kiddo! Feathears, that is!”

Logan didn’t dignify the atrocious pun with a response beyond his face pinching slightly. “I’m sure you all remember the incident we had recently, with the... yawning.”

At the reminder, Patton winced and Roman glowered.

Virgil had joined them for breakfast again the prior light cycle, a rare occurrence, and had nearly startled Logan out of his seat when he had stretched his jaw unnaturally wide with a crack, apropos of nothing. Patton had hurried to reassure them it was normal, and very much harmless, but it hadn’t prevented Roman from looking visibly on edge for the rest of the morning. Virgil had fled to his room early as a result.

“I believe that it would be beneficial for all of us to learn more about Human culture, and while I have scoured many texts for information, most of it has proven to be inaccurate or downright offensive. As a result, I’ve decided that I should attempt to ask Virgil directly to share,” Logan nervously fluttered his hands. “Ideally through a Vidi.”

Patton, who had gotten all fluffed up during his explanation, now paused slightly. “I think it’s a great idea for you to bond with Virgil, Lo! I’m not sure he’d be too keen on sharing minds, though. The idea seemed to make him nervous.”

Roman snorted.

“Yes, I predicted as much.” Logan gestured between the two of them. “Hence why I have gathered you to receive insight on how best to go about gaining his permission.”

His two closest friends shared a look, Patton having to crane his neck up considerably to do so. The Ampen piped up first.

“I say you should just ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Beside him, Roman made a gesture to ward off bad luck, muttering about inviting chaos. Logan held a hand to his face to ward off any headaches.

“He could say no,” he emphasized, pointing out the obvious flaw.

“That is not the worst that could happen. And anyways, if he says no, it’s not the end of the universe. You can still make a valiant effort to convince him after the fact. Write a 20 page dissertation on all the reasons he should give it a shot, or bargain with jam, or any other nerd stuff. But if you try to go behind his back--”

“He’ll never trust you again,” Patton completed, antennae lowering at the thought. “Virgil is slow to trust, and for good reason. I know you of all people can understand that, Logan.”

“Actually, I was going to finish that with ‘you might never get a second chance to Vidi with anyone, because you’ll be dead.’ Humans don’t take lightly to intrusion,” Roman clenched his hands, gaze dark.

Patton drooped more, like he was attempting to become a puddle of sad Ampen. “I know you two aren’t as familiar with Virgil as I am, but… I’m telling you, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s probably even more scared of you than you are of him.”

“I am not scared of a Human,” Roman insisted, scales rattling in offense. “And anyhow, we aren’t talking about a little fuzzy pollinator from a flora planet, we’re talking about a Human. A deathworlder. I know he was merciful to you, Pat, and I’m glad, but that doesn’t mean we can trust him to go against his nature. The way he acts, the look in his eye… I’ve seen it before. So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe for a second that he’s harmless.”

“Roman--!” Patton stopped short as the Crav’on rose to his feet and stormed out in a huff, dramatic as always. The small alien let out a frustrated trill, tugging on his antennae for a second before turning back to Logan.

“I never said that he was harmless,” he announced pointedly. “None of us are harmless, not even me. But just because he’s got the… the potential to be dangerous doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give him a chance. Try asking him about the Vidi, Lo, and if that doesn’t work out I’ll help you think of more options, okay?”

Frankly, Logan had been hoping for something more along the lines of a guide he could follow while striking a deal with Virgil, but he nodded anyhow. Sometimes researchers simply had to work with what little they had.

He spent the next few light cycles calculating the encounter, from his words to all the possible outcomes. He had plenty of time to consider such things, seeing as Virgil was particularly adept at avoiding him.

Though the Human was subtle about it, it was hard to miss the way he found an excuse to leave any room Logan was in more often than not. Even when he couldn’t make a hasty escape-- most often because Patton was sleeping on his person-- he was always following Logan’s movements from the corner of his vision. Tracking him. It was… nerve-wracking.

Logan was much more than a creature of instinct, though, and so he persisted despite the occasional shiver sent down his spine.

When he finally managed to get the Human alone, however, it happened completely unintentionally. He was fixing a middark snack before sleep, and had just put the jam back in the coolant box when a vague emotional pulse nearby made his skin prickle.

He paused. Neither of his shipmates would be so quiet while nearby, so… He squinted into the dim hallways, searching for movement. “Virgil?”

“Uh,” said the Human, from on top of the cabinets how had he even gotten up there— “Hey.”

Logan was suddenly thankful for his dulled physical response, since it prevented him from doing something embarrassing like jumping out of his carapace. “Hello. Might I inquire— May I ask why you are all the way up there?”

The vague shadow that was Virgil shifted slightly, before dropping to the floor with a muted thump that shook the ground. Logan hoped that he hadn’t left any imprints in the floor paneling; Roman would have a fit.

“Just, uh. Just felt like it,” he answered, avoiding Logan’s gaze. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait, please,” Logan blurted, and to his surprise Virgil paused mid step. He quickly pulled himself onto a nearby stool, both so he could meet the Human’s eyes better and leave an exit available, seeing as a cornered Human was not one he wanted to deal with. “I had something I wanted to discuss with you, if that’s alright. Nothing bad, simply a request.”

Despite his attempt to be soothing, Virgil’s shoulders only seemed to rise further, a defensive gesture according to Patton. Logan attempted to look as non-threatening as possible.

“And what if it’s not alright?” Virgil challenged, voice low and rough as he glanced towards the hall entryway.

Logan folded his lower hands in his lap carefully, his words measured. “Then I shall ask again another time. It is late, after all. I don’t want to keep you from sleeping.”

Virgil made a half-exhale of amusement, or maybe resignation. Logan suspected it was because tonight was one of the nights Patton slept with him and Roman, nights that Logan suspected the Human often got little to no sleep. It was a concern to bring up at another time.

“Okay, fine, discuss away. But I reserve the right to leave any time.”

Logan blinked a few times, almost surprised that Virgil had actually agreed. He tapped his fingers together nervously— now came the difficult part. “My request is in regards to the incident at morning meal yesterday. Specifically, the misunderstanding about your ‘yawn’.”

Virgil visibly hid a wince. “I already apologized for that.”

“Unnecessarily, I believe,” Logan said, causing Virgil to dart a glance at him in surprise. “You know as little about us as we know about you. It’s unreasonable to expect you not to make a few mistakes.”

After a beat of stunned silence, Virgil shook his head slightly. “Try telling that to Roman,” he muttered.

“I did, actually,” Logan said, frowning slightly at the recollection. “Surprising nobody, he didn’t want to listen.”

“Wait, what?” Virgil asked, voice coming out a bit louder than before. “I thought you guys were like… cool. Uh, good. Friends.”

Logan forced himself not to interrogate the Human on the slang, noting his embarrassment at fumbling. “We are, now. When I first came aboard the Mindscape, however, Roman and I fought constantly.”

“No. Really?”

“Yes. We were-- and still are-- very opinionated individuals. Stubborn,” he clarified, seeing Virgil struggle with the unfamiliar word. “Patton had to intervene in our bickering more often than not.”

“Huh,” Virgil uttered, curious. Logan was pleased to note that he’d relaxed slightly, and pressed on.

“But that is a story for another time. My request is actually an attempt to help prevent such misunderstandings in the future. I would like to ask you about Human culture, in order to clear up common misconceptions and help me and the others recognize unfamiliar gestures or actions,” Logan ran the words through his mind, trying to see if he’d forgotten anything. “You’re free to say no, of course, I simply assumed that it would be easier for us all, but--”

“Logan.” Virgil waited for him to glance up before continuing. “This is a lot. I’ll… I’ll think it over, alright?”

Logan nodded, enthusiastic to not be rejected outright. “Of course. In that case, I am going to head to my quarters to rest. Don’t hesitate to seek me out if you would like elaboration on anything.”

The Human nodded, seeming deep in thought as Logan ducked his head in farewell and left. He could only hope that Virgil would be open to trying.

The next light cycle, Virgil appeared quite suddenly at the entry to his lab, never crossing the threshold.

“What are you going to do if I say no?” he asked, features clearer but also somehow harsher in the light. “Maybe I don’t want you to know anything about Humans, or me. What then?”

Logan hurriedly set aside the samples he’d been comparing, pushing his thick inspection lenses up so he could see the Human properly. He took a moment to think over the question. “Roman suggested that I write a dissertation-- that is, a sort of argument to convince you-- if you refused outright, but seeing as you’ve had time to consider your options already… I will take your refusal at face value and not pester you about it any longer.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes in a gesture that was most likely not an Ampen smile. “Just like that? Seriously?”

“I am always serious,” Logan told him, very seriously. “Though I do encourage you to speak with Patton on other potential solutions not involving me--”

“I’ll do it.”

“Pardon?” Logan asked, his ears twitching. Virgil raised his chin slightly, meeting Logan’s eyes solidly in challenge.

“I’ll do it,” he repeated, and Logan noticed the way his hands shook slightly at his sides. He slowly placed his lenses onto the countertop, turning to face Virgil fully.

“Would it be preferable to talk in the common area?” he asked, spreading his hands to accentuate the question. “We are simply exchanging information, there’s no need to do it here.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, and then shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance. “Sure, whatever.”

A short trek later, they were seated in the lounging area, Virgil a careful seat away. Logan had received permission to ‘take notes’ as the Human called it, and started off with questions that seemed simple enough.

Naturally, they immediately encountered problems.

“So, you do actually keep canids in your home for defense purposes?” Logan asked, hands stalling. “Is that not dangerous? Do you train them to not recognize the home’s residents as threats? I was under the impression all of Earth’s fauna was relatively vicious in order to survive.”

Virgil dragged a hand over his face. “I guess some people keep guard dogs, but most people just get them as like… companions. We take care of them and they live with us. We… ugh, I don’t know the word for it. We trained them to not be… angry? Wild? Way long ago.”

“Domestication,” Logan suggested, and then resisted a sigh when Virgil looked at him without comprehension. “Virgil, I would like to try something, if it’s alright with you. My species has the ability to link minds and share memories, referred to as a Vidi. It would allow us to bypass the language barrier and you could show me what life on Earth is like with far more clarity.”

Virgil was already shaking his head. “I don’t want you poking around in my head. I don’t know how it works on your planet, but thoughts are personal on Earth.”

“Nor on mine. I am not a mind reader,” Logan corrected wryly. “The Vidi is more like a form of shared thinking, and if you would like, I will take no part in paddling-- guiding where our thoughts take us. You will then have control over what you share and what you ask from me. Both Patton and Roman have linked with me in the past, and suffered no ill effects, if you are worried about cross-species Vidi.”

“Well, I am now,” Virgil muttered, and hunched his shoulders. “... Can I stop it?”

“Yes. It may take a few moments, since the flow of thought is unpredictable, but I have never gotten stuck in a link,” Logan tilted his head slightly, offering a hand. “Do you want to try something simple to test it?”

Virgil chewed on his lip for a click longer before reaching out and placing his own hand atop Logan’s.

Immediately, he was seeing from a different angle, different time, different eyes. The hall was dark, but he could see uncannily well in it, noting the outline of stairs in front of him. At the base of the stairs, a light illuminated a dog staring up at him pleadingly. An Australian Shepard, though he had no idea what that was.

“Zero, it’s three in the morning,” a familiar voice grumbled, Logan feeling echoes of the sound in his throat. The words were foreign, but he could understand the meaning. He observed the dog as the memory proceeded to stumble around the house and open a door to the night, releasing Zero into the yard.

‘This is bizarrely immersive,’ Virgil commented as the memory’s gaze turned up to the stars. ‘Like a dream. But… not as weird as I thought it might be.’ The memory flickered to a cartoon alien for a moment before stabilizing again, and Logan graciously ignored the lapse.

‘Just from this alone, I have a much better concept of dogs,’ he responded, his mental voice quite enthusiastic. ‘Can you show me the devices you mentioned earlier? The ones Humans ride for entertainment?’

‘Oh, yeah, roller coasters. That’s a good one.’

The world around them flickered, and then it was bright daylight streaming around them. The memory stepped forwards, leaving behind a line that had taken ages and climbing into a seat. Another human-- slightly older than Virgil, probably too old to be working this job-- stepped over and pushed the safety bar over the memory’s lap, locking them in securely.

The ride started, and Logan’s stress levels increased along with the memory’s sense of anticipation, peaking as they hit the top of the tracks and began to topple. The memory of Virgil’s stomach dropping was well-preserved, and fear-excitement-glee surged through the memory as the scenery blurred by too fast to process. After a period of time that was both too-long and too-short, the ride came to a stop.

Virgil’s smug amusement was tangible as Logan struggled to form words. ‘Humans do that for fun, you said?’

‘Yep.’

‘... I get the feeling this is going to be a truly interesting mindshare.’

Several alarming concepts later, including coffee, sleep deprivation, gender roles, and babies’ soft skulls, Logan was itching to take some time to journal all his thoughts out and also have a brief respite from horrifying implications.

Virgil snorted, which he had learned was a Human gesture of amusement rather than a Crav’n one of disdain. He visualized an image of Logan writing with all four hands in a book, and Logan responded with showing him the art form practiced back home, which involved exactly that. Drawing a full image at multiple points simultaneously was a honed skill for some Ulgorii.

‘This has been quite illuminating, however I am hoping to end it here,’ Logan requested, pulling them back on track.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, and then: ‘I want to check something. Really quick. I need to know.’

Logan had barely agreed when the scene shifted again, this memory tinged with haze around the edges. Physical sensation was dulled somewhat, but the cold metal underneath their back was a clear enough feeling. White walls above them, and aliens in thick bodysuits leaned over them. The memory was too fuzzy to recall what was being taken, but there was a sense of relief that it didn’t hurt. Not adrenaline, then.

Above them, a couple of the harvesters spoke. Logan recognized Virgil’s intent too late to do anything to prevent it. He couldn’t simply stop understanding Common, after all.

“Drain duty is so boring. You think it’d be entertaining with a Human, but no, all it does is lie here with those freaky dead eyes,” one complained. “Are they sure they didn’t accidentally grab a braindead one?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been here for the Dren drain,” the other responded, voice morbidly fascinated. “Thing’s practically feral, the way it lashes out. I don’t envy the escorts who have to drag it back to its cage afterwards, even with the drugs.”

“If it’s so beastly, why not just treat it like one? Put two together till they breed and train the baby to be less of a monster, same as we do with the troublesome creatures,” the harvester suggested, jabbing a claw at Virgil’s form. Logan felt sickened. ‘Virgil--’

“And risk them tearing each other apart? Humans are rare as is, there’s no way the Uppers would authorize something that might end with both dead.” The harvester took a few paces to the side, meeting the memory’s gaze with complete apathy. “Those scientists that have dibs on the body want it intact for dissection, or else we’re getting fuckall for the payment.”

The memory flickered, unstable, to an alien that only visited when they were doing the painful tests, wearing what Logan recognized as scholarly gear instead of the customary bodysuit. Virgil remembered they had snapped out words with one of the smugglers, numbers, prices, bargaining for his corpse--

Back to the little white room where they drained him, bit by bit.

“It’s pretty sedate, considering,” A smuggler prodded him, to no response beyond a brief flicker of eyelids.

“Of course it is, we picked it up off the planet fresh. Stupid thing can’t understand a thing we’re saying, so what’s there to panic about?”

The memory fractured, splitting into a thousand different fragments that flashed by with increasing speed-- panic attacks in his cell, unable to count the days he’d been locked in the too-small space, the ring, being hosed down like a rabid animal.

‘Logan,’ Virgil managed weakly, his grip on the Vidi loosening, ‘change it.’

In his alarm at Virgil’s condition, he practically yanked the share back to his own memories. He was too concerned to focus on what or where exactly he was remembering, until it had already snapped into clarity around them. He should have known better.

The memory was a mirror of Virgil’s, summoned by Logan’s automatic recall. His younger self sat on a sterile white counter, kicking his feet as around him, four machines worked to draw blood from each of his arms. He moved to shift the share again, but Virgil nudged him, distracted by the surprise.

‘What… what is this?’ he asked, despite the fact that he was surely receiving information from the memory’s perspective as they spoke.

Logan sighed, watching as a pleased doctor removed the equipment and shuffled him off to be escorted back to his room. ‘As I told you before, you are certainly not the only one to deal with trauma or flashbacks on this ship.’

“You promised me a new book,” the memory said with the voice of a child who had grown up too fast. “I sat quietly, so I get a new book, right?”

“Of course, of course,” the doctor waved him off, already moving to bottle and package the blood to be sold. Ulgorian blood, which would make a fair amount of coin at market for its use as a paralyzing toxin. “Continue being such an obedient, quiet child and you will have any book you desire, Aconite.”

Logan finally broke the Vidi off, opening his eyes as Virgil jolted sharply across from him. He studied the Human’s complexion for a moment, and then reached into the table drawer for a water jug. “Drink something. I believe you have experienced the beginnings of a panic attack during our share.”

He held the water out patiently until Virgil took it, pulling back to give him space. “Though I had my suspicions, I now see why you reacted the way you did to my designation as a self-identified scientist.”

Virgil laughed hoarsely, sipping at the water. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t know--” He cut himself off sharply. “You won’t do anything to me. Patton told me, and I think I knew it too, really. I was just... nervous. That you’d ask for more than I could give--”

“--or change the parameters before you could ever reach them,” Logan finished, lacing his fingers together in a wry Crav’n gesture. “There’s no need to apologize. I understand, as you now know.”

“Sorry about that,” Virgil repeated. “I didn’t mean to peek at your trauma.”

“Again, no need. It’s nothing I haven’t already come to terms with,” Logan said, and then offered him a few thumbs ups. “We are cool, as I believe the term is used.”

Virgil gave him a small grin, and Logan finally understood what Patton meant when he called Virgil’s teeth-bearing friendly.

After a discussion on how PTSD affected the mind share, they settled for focusing on simply communicating through Common. It would be better for Virgil’s language growth, and reduce the amount of traumatic flashbacks they were both exposed to. If either of them got frustrated, they simply left off to discuss the matter another cycle.

This was how, a rotation later, Logan found himself enthusiastically quizzing a Human on his dietary habits.

“I know that there are Humans who raise livestock, presumably for meat. Do Humans prefer raw meats or cooked ones? Or are there other ways to prepare animal flesh? Is it determined by individual preference?”

Virgil waited patiently, ducking under one of Logan’s flapping hands as he moved to sit down. “We eat all kinds of stuff, Specs.”

“Ah. Should we stock up on blood at our next port, then?”

A startled laugh, though Logan was only half-joking. “Okay, all kinds of stuff like plants and some minerals.”

Logan made a note to correct his notes, again. “Another incorrect assumption... I was under the impression that human omnivorous tendencies were only for survival scenarios, similar to your ability to endure blood loss. Most texts say that humans are primarily carnivores.”

“No, we’re pretty omnivorous.” Virgil shrugged. “Some people are vegetarian-- or, herbivores, I guess, but that’s a personal choice dependent on all sorts of things. We evolved to be omnivorous, we’ve got the flat teeth and the pointy ones, see?” He pulled a lip down to show his teeth, which were in fact thick and rounded in the back.

Logan half-lunged forwards, inspecting the inside of his mouth carefully. “You’re absolutely right! While you have the canines for biting and tearing meat off the bone, you also have molars for masticating tough plant matter! Oh, of course Humans don’t actually drink blood, there are evolutionary signifiers for such things and Human blood likely has little to none of the nutritional value that your body needs. Fascinating! Are these made of bone?”

It was at this moment that Roman walked in. There was a pause in which Logan realized that at some point he had moved to stick most of his hand in Virgil’s mouth to better examine his dental structure.

“Logan,” Roman started, deceivingly composed, “if you lose a finger by being a huge nerd, I am going to freak it.”

Logan executed a ‘wink’ to Virgil before responding. “Not to worry, Human teeth are dull enough that they are only dangerous if significant jaw strength is applied. I do not believe Virgil will bite me. Correct?”

“Uhn,” Virgil grunted in affirmation, spit starting to spill out of his mouth. Despite his reassurance, he looked vaguely uncomfortable with the situation. Logan hurriedly withdrew.

“Oh sure, you totally know he’s not going to bite you when he is literally drooling!” Roman howled, before turning on his heel and walking right back out of the commons. “I am too tired for this. Call me when you’re done being an insane scientist in our living room.”

Virgil wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, voice sardonic. “Doesn’t he know by now that mad scientist is your permanent state of being?”

“I have no idea why you would say such a thing. I am a perfectly calm and composed scientist,” Logan responded in a monotone, turning his nose up when Virgil started laughing. “How dare you imply otherwise. The indignity of it all. Woe is me.”

“That’s what you get for inviting a malicious human onboard,” Virgil snarked back, leaning back. “Too bad, you’ll regret it to the end of your days.”

“No,” Logan answered with a wry twist of his lips, “I don’t think I will.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #wibar #watch it burn and rust #commissioned works #space au #analogical boys share some trauma: the fic!#ive been so excited to write this one you guys have no idea #writing #my writing #please forgive me if some editing is off i am v tired

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minghaocouture · 4 years ago

Text

Fearless: Chapter 12

Pairing: Werewolf!Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire!Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol Au WC: 3.5k+ Warning: Language, Mild Violence, Gun Usage AU Lore: Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @skjdln @darkacrimson @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju @svtjuniverse @karmacqre @dwcljh

Unable to tag: @Unbaeknownst @peachescherryheart

A/N: Again thank you guys for being patient with me <3, I’ll try to be better about updating this lol. I did in fact finish this chapter during a four hour road trip lol. Also i’d just like to put this out there, fight scenes are hard to write. I am not any good at them ^^;; this was my best attempt lol.

Chapter List: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

If you were being honest, you couldn't remember the last time you had slept so well. So you were pretty peeved to wake up to the sounds of snickering and a the sound of a camera shutter.

"Dude I told you to turn off the sound, they're gonna wake up." You heard a hushed whisper fill the silence of the room, followed by more soft snickering.

"It's fine, we came to wake them up anyway. It's their own fault that we caught them all cuddly." That voice you distinctly recognized as Mingyu, and you were almost certain that the other voice belonged to Vernon. A light sense of irritation swelled in your chest. Almost on instinct you began to pull away from Wonwoo, only for the arm around your waist to pull you closer.

"Do you think if we stay quiet they'll go away?" he muttered, his voice so soft and laced with husky sound that had been lacking this morning. Which made you curious how long he had been awake before you had woken up. You were more than a little embarrassed to be caught like this. Soft moments like this definitely weren’t something you were used to letting others see.

"I doubt it, they're annoying," you retorted, loud enough for your guests to hear. Which earned a irritated exclamation of denial from Mingyu, and a laugh from Vernon. "Besides, we need to get up. We have to get set up for tonight." Despite saying this, you didn't bother moving, after all that would mean you would have to move his arm from you...and you weren't quite ready for that yet. The feeling of his arm around your waist made you feel warm, in fact his whole presence did as well. You had honestly forgotten how wonderful it felt to feel warm. It hadn’t really bothered you before, you had gotten used to not retaining any kind of warmth, so feeling this even if it would only be for a little while, it was...a nice reprieve.

Sadly, Wonwoo agreed with your statement far too quickly for your liking, and pulled his arm away so that he could stretch out. Which caused you to unconsciously grumble out of irritation at the lack of contact.

"You guys are so gross." Vernon complained, while Mingyu fake gagged next to him.

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and followed Wonwoo’s lead. Stretching a bit to work the muscles that had gotten stiff from sleep. “I mean, you two were the ones who interrupted us. So this is on you.”

"Ugh, we were told to wake you up.” Mingyu began, thankfully done with his ridiculous display of disgust. “Your vampire friends came back with your leader guy, so whenever you two are done...being gross."

"We'll be down there in a bit." Wonwoo yawned out the words, just wanting to just get the males out of the room, which worked. They gave a few more teasing looks of disgust before leaving together, taking their future black mail materiel with them. You'd have to steal his phone and delete those photos before Hyunjin saw them. You did not need that boy taunting you about this, especially since he wasn't exactly aware of what was going on between Wonwoo and yourself. Hell, you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to call this either, but that was a thought for another day. Right now, you needed to be focused, if any of you were off tonight then that could mess up the whole plan and put Minah in even more danger.

As the boys left the room, you felt Wonwoo’s hand reach out and lightly grip your shoulder. Turning to face him, you couldn’t exactly describe the look on his face. It looks like a cross between comforting and admiration but you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that it brought that previous warmth and placed it inside your chest, as opposed to being something physical you felt. You honestly weren’t sure how he managed to do this, if you didn’t know any better you would think he was a witch. But it was common knowledge that Wolves couldn’t produce magic.

“Don’t worry so much.”

“How do you know I’m worried?” Seriously, magic. It was almost ridiculous how well he could read you.

A soft laugh left his lips and shook his head. “You’re not as straight faced as you think you are.”

With a small grumble of irritation, you pushed his hand off of your shoulder with a small pout on your lips. This prompted another laugh from the male as he watched you quickly leave the room.

***

As soon as you entered the living room, you were taken back by how noisy the room was. It seemed like everyone who was involved tonight had arrived. You were also pretty surprised to see that those gathered hadn’t separated themselves by species. Maybe things would change after all this was over. As your eyes scaned the room, you noticed that the only one missing was Minghao. Which caused a bit of anxiety to swirl in your gut, but you didn’t have time to think about it as you heard the loud voice of Soonyoung greet you.

"My baby bat!" he exclaimed, rushing over to pull you into a crushing hug. This was always how it was when you saw him again after one of his long trips. You honestly couldn't even remember how long it had been since you had seen, or hell even heard from him. You were also pretty grateful that he wasn’t yelling at you again, that was something you really hoped didn’t happen again soon.

"What did I tell you about calling me that, Hamster man." You groaned, returning the embrace. Despite your hatred of the nickname, you knew it came from a place of love. He was the only reason you were still here, and you owed him a lot but you would never admit that out loud to him.

"I'm not a hamster! I'm a tiger!!" Obviously offended at your title, and pulled away much quicker than he normally would. You heard the familiar laugh of Kevin ring out through the room, calling out that Soonyoung was definitely more like a hamster than a Tiger. It was an ongoing 'fight' in the coven, everyone would tease him about being a hamster and he would always argue back that he was a tiger. Personally, all you were sure of was that he was a furry.

You heard a throat clear, and your eyes met with Seungcheol. A serious look on his face which cleared the air of any previous humor. A hush seemed to fall over the room and all eyes were on the three of you, waiting for Seungcheol to speak.

"It's about 5, sundown should be starting soon. We should probably leave in our smaller groups and not all at once." He advised, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued. “We should probably send out the fourth grouping first.”

He was absolutely right, it would take them a bit longer to get to their position while remaining inconspicuous. The only problem was that you still weren’t sure where Minghao was. So you nodded to show your agreement, but turned your attention to Soonyoung.

“I’d feel more comfortable sending people out if I knew where Minghao was.” Sure he a part of the first group, so he would leave last but it was still a small concern. His group was already one of the smaller ones, consisting of only himself, Wonwoo and Minhyuk.

“What, you think I can’t handle the group with the little wolf boy?” Speaking of Minhyuk, he called out with a grin on his face. Which definitely didn’t fit the mood of the room, but that was just how Minhyuk was.

“I don’t think you could handle a paper bag, Hyuk.” You retorted, and the male laughed at your joking nature. You didn’t...hate Minhyuk but he was definitely a lot to deal with at times. You decided to ignore his comment about Wonwoo, but found your eyes straying to him. To your surprise you felt...worried, if there were only two members in that team it would be easier for them to be overpowered. They would be more likely to get hurt.

You heard a small snort from Hyunjin, who had decided to stick by Kevin. Soonyoung also couldn’t seem to stop himself from chuckling at your antics with the eldest Vampire, before he returned to the situation at hand.

"He decided to stay back with Minah. He said it would be better to have someone trailing her from a distance." It wasn’t a bad idea but it definitely left the teams severely unbalanced now. You also wished that he would have told you about it before hand.

Taking a moment to think about the rest of the other team compositions, you let out a small sigh. The best option would be to send either Soonyoung or Vernon. Since Minghao had decided to change the plan on his own, you'd have to bitch about that to him later when everything is done. Ruined a perfectly good plan.

"Soonie, you're gonna go with team one now, you can blame Hao later,”

"Since when were you calling the shots?" Honestly, it was a pretty damn good question since leadership wasn’t exactly your specialty, but the cheeky grin on his face made you a little bit irritated. You knew he wasn’t questioning your decision but that he wanted to give one last jab to you before everything went down. A very Soonyoung move.

"Since you decided that vanishing acts would be your secret skill."

***

The alley way was dark, and cold. The snow was coming down quickly tonight, making visibility a bit lower than you would have liked. Taking a look at your team, you were outnumbered one vampire to three wolves, but you knew you could trust them. Or...at least you hoped. They wanted this to end so you would have to hope that they would watch your back.

“Anything yet?” You questioned, phone in hand as you waited for a response from the first team. It had been decided that each team would have one of the Wolves keep watch, since even in their human forms their sight was definitely better than a Vampires. Being the technical leader of the second group you were trying to keep your hands on all part of the stake out. At the end of the alley was Vernon, his eyes peeled as he watched for Minah to travel down your designated stretch of road. Yubin stood closest to him, crouched and ready to run out at a seconds notice. You were standing closest to Hyunwoo, who while obviously tensed, definitely seemed more relaxed than the rest of you

"Nothing yet," he confessed, eyes not leaving the street as he answered. “Not even stragglers from the bars. It’s just...empty.” It was...definitely strange. It was as if the world could tell that something was off tonight. You attention was then taken by the silent vibrations of your phone going off. Glancing over the message you then relayed it to the rest of your team.

"Minghao says he hasn’t seen anything yet. No one has even approached her." That didn’t make you feel any better, a small sense of dread was pooling in your gut as your phone buzzed once more. Backing out you went to check the other message.

"Soonyoung said that she just passed them, but it’s basically just what Minghao reported. There was no one near her, Wonwoo couldn’t even see Mingao following her." You heard a small noise of amazement from the younger male, obviously not used to hearing about Minghao’s skills. You were about to make a mention of that being a regular occurrence when you noticed Vernon lift his index finger to his lips. The action being followed by the familiar sound of footsteps in the snow.

The air around your group grew still, yet almost painfully loud. You forced your ears to focus on the steps you had heard instead of the rapid beating of hearts that belonged to the wolves. They were far too loud and were definitely setting your nerves on edge.

It felt like forever as you waited, eyes never leaving Vernon as you clutched your phone in your hand. Your messenger was opened and you were ready to send a report to Kevin, just in case something happened in your area they would need to know instantly.

As the footsteps grew closer, you could see Minah for a brief moment through as she passed by the alleyway where you were hiding. Thankfully, she was unaware of where everyone was stationed so she wouldn’t accidentally give away your position.

The plan had been for her to appear to be heading home, make her seem more vulnerable. It had been a perfect plan, but so far was yielding no results. Your eyes trained to her form as a small sneeze escaped her, she quickly rubbed a gloved hand against her nose to try warming it up even if just slightly.

You waited with bated breath for her to exit safely from your area, listening intently for Vernon’s queue for you to send the message to the next team. After what felt like an eternity, Vernon’s posture dropped and his eyes finally left the street. He turned back to the group and shrugged a bit.

A part of your was grateful that nothing had happened but the other part was still tense with anxiety. Quickly typing and sending your report to Kevin, you glanced back up at Yubin and Hyunwoo.

“I want you two,” you gestured to the fastest and strongest members of your team “to head to the fourth group and be prepared to help them out when you get there. Vernon and I are gonna check in on the third group. Make sure you keep as hidden as you can, we don’t need the stray catching on if he does see you.”

At your words, Hyunwoo and Yubin nodded and both dashed to the other end of the alley way, taking a sharp left in the direction of the last grouping of members. It was definitely strange being the leader, it was not a job that you ever wanted again. You'd have to ask Junhui how the hell he did this all the time. It was exhausting, and stressful to be in charge of others.

As the two finished their reports to the other groups, you began the trek towards the fourth group, Vernon following close by you as you kept to the alleyways as much as you could. Doing your best to keep as inconspicuous as possible. This street didn’t seem as deserted as the one Minah had been walking down, lingering species from all walks seemed to be wandering down the sidewalk. This caused that small lingering dread to grow as you picked up the pace, taking quicker steps towards your destination. Feeling the familiar vibrations of your phone. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you read the message from Kevin.

“Fuck, they’ve got her! ”

***

Wonwoo felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest as he dashed around the corner, following the perp and Minah, alongside Jacob and the female Vampire who he believed was named Gahyeon. Despite her small stature she was quite quick and was a good head in front of the two wolves. It made sense to him now why you had been so adamant about her being one of the powerhouses of the Coven, but that was a thought for another time.

He had just made it to the third grouping when Minah had been ambushed. From what Jacob had said while they were running, there had been only one assailant, he hadn’t been able to catch any distinct features but he had seen the man grab Minah and drag her into an alley just a bit away from where the third group had been stationed. Just like you had anticipated, he would have to commend you on that later. Once this was settled.

To his surprise, not only was the assailant in the alley but so was another male. For a moment he was worried that you had been right about their numbers as well, but that worry was quelled as Gahyeon rushed to the second male’s side. He could only assume that this was Minghao and hope for the best.

“If you let her go then things will go a lot better for you.” Minghao (?) declared, his posture seemed almost too relaxed, but Wonwoo noticed that his eyes never once left Minah’s trembling frame. The captured female looked terrified, her hands gripped tightly against her captor’s arms that had wrapped themselves around her body. He didn’t bother to try and hold her hands back, knowing that there would be no way that a simple human could over power a vampire. It was sad but true, and it seemed like Minah had also realized this.

The unfamiliar vampire rolled his eyes, one arm seemed to tighten around her waist while the other reached up and grasped her throat. He forcefully jerked her head to the side, not hard enough to kill her but just enough to make her uncomfortable. Wonwoo could see tears begin to spill from the young woman’s eyes, too scared to even attempt fighting back. This action seemed to set Minghao off, his seemingly casual posture dropped as he took a threatening step forward. The rest of the group following his lead, only to be stopped as the Stray let out a soft chuckle.

“You know, if you get any closer I could easily snap her neck. Dead or alive, I’m still getting fed, and her blood just smells...wonderful.” He said, making a large show of burying his nose into Minah’s neck. A small terrified whimper left the young woman, her eyes clenching shut. The tension in the air could practically be cut with a knife. “Is this little human worth all this fuss? Surely Soonyoung has better things to do than deal with, little old me?”

Minghao didn’t dignify him with an answer, simply staring him down but refusing to move as long as Minah was directly in danger. It seemed as if time had stopped, completely frozen inside the cold winter’s night.

As quickly as time froze it seemed to restart again, almost as if someone had hit the play button on a tv remote. The Stray’s head was roughly pulled back, the surprise of the attack threw him off and caused him to release Minah. Before she could hit the ground, Minghao had rushed forward to grab her.

Everything seemed to move so fast, Wonwoo hadn’t seen who had attacked the Stray but as soon as Minah was secured he felt his body move forward on pure instinct. Heart throbbing in his chest as he aimed a punch towards the Stray’s head, which he dodged by just a hair, only for him to be tackled by the small frame of Gahyeon. They rolled for a moment and it looked like she had the upper hand, until a shot rang out, followed by a growl of pain from the woman. She recoiled, jumping off of the stray and looking around wilding for where the shot came from.

Just as there had once been more of them than the stray, now the small group was surrounded by people from all walks of life as they waited for their backup. From the brief glance, Wonwoo could see a plethora of Fae, wolves, vampires, and even a human. They were outnumbered 8 to 5, with a disadvantage because Minghao was attempting to protect Minah as well as fight. It didn’t look good.

Wonwoo tried to keep his eyes out for his teammates as he fended off a summer fae, small flecks of fire sparked off of her hands anytime she got close, in hopes of burning the wolf. She didn’t pack as much of a punch as he was expecting, but she was quick and practically running circles around him. It made it harder for him to land a punch much less catch the Fae woman. She was careless though, leaving holes in her defense which Wonwoo was more than happy to take advantage of. At his neck chance, his hand shot out and quickly gripped her neck and slammed her smaller frame into the wall of the alleyway. Vaguely he heard the shout of an unfamiliar name, once again followed by a gunshot.

A gunshot that he felt. Another growl of pain rang through the air, except this time from him. The pain was enough for him to drop the Fae woman in shock.

Trying to keep himself on his feet as the Fae began a fresh assault on him, his mind enveloped in the pain of the bullet wound. Which was honestly hurting a lot more than he thought it should. For a split second he wondered if the bullet had been a silver one, but the thought was ripped from his mind as the woman took advantage of his distraction, grabbing his face and soon all he could feel was fire.

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jmnjmnjmn · 4 years ago

Text

Eternal Beings | Chapter 15

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Key words: supernatural, vampire, soulmates.

Word count: around 3,000

Inspo board

Masterlist

Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I kind of got bored of the ‘non-believer reader’ narrative. What do you think of the switch?? 😬

With your phone against your ear, you walked out into the corridor. After a moment of listening to static beeping, you heard shuffling and a groggy voice mumbling out a barely audible ‘hello’.

“Yoongi?” you asked not sure if it was him that answered the phone.

“Speaking,” you exhaled sharply before jumping straight into explaining your current situation to the man on the other end of the line. “And what do you want from me?” he asked, gaining alertness with each passing second of your call.

“I want you to tell me if it’s safe to do this.”

“There surely are safer choices, Yn,” -he sighed- “but Namjoon knows you’re not to be touched,” he didn’t have to say a word more, you knew what that meant.

Jungkook marked you as his soulmate and for whatever reason, that meant you had some kind of immunity when it came to others of… his kind. You thanked Yoongi for his time and help and quickly ended the call. You hesitated before walking back inside Namjoon’s office. Your thumb hovered over the darkening screen of your phone while you wondered if you should follow the hunch in your stomach.

“A hunch,” you thought. “It’s merely a hunch, nothing more,” you ran a hand through your hair, pulling on it a little too harshly. “A hunch that’s telling me I’ve been living with tunnel vision until very recently.”

Eventually, you pressed on the unnamed contact at the bottom of your text list and raised the phone to your ear. The wait for Jungkook to pick up wasn’t long. You barely managed to take a deep breath before he answered.

“Why are you calling me?” you scoffed at the lack of greeting from his side.

Why were you calling him you didn’t entirely know. You just felt like it… When Yoongi mentioned that Namjoon knew you were ‘not to be touched’ your mind instantly associated the statement with Jungkook. You were his soulmate and it meant something for some reason. “Allegedly,” your inner voice added quickly. “Allegedly I am his soulmate.”

“Is this how you talk to all your soulmates?” you shot back and Jungkook chuckled lightly, happy to hear you use that word to describe yourself even as part of a joke.

You imagined him shaking his head with a grin, strands of shiny hair falling onto his forehead as he did so and maybe for the first time you didn’t frown at the thought. Instead, the corners of your lips started to rise as the image of the boy appeared before your eyes. A small smile formed between your rose-tinted cheeks.

“Only the ones that are rude to me,” he purred teasingly.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured, leaning your back against the wooden panelling on the walls of the corridor.

“What was that?” he asked and you cleared your throat.

“I said ‘I’m sorry’,” you repeated a little surprised with your actions and the lack of annoyance that usually rose up in your chest whenever you heard Jungkook’s voice.

You felt the potential for a possible outburst of sudden aggravation but stuffed it down deciding to focus on the light feeling of felicitousness that you haven’t felt in a long time.

You weren’t the type to look at the world through rose-tinted glasses, quiet the opposite. You wouldn’t describe yourself as pessimistic, rather painfully realistic. That quality of yours oftentimes meant you would notice flaws or disadvantages to your own or others’ plans or ideas. Having noticed those negatives you found it hard to pull through with whatever it was you were considering doing.

There were times you let go and let someone else take the wheel. Involuntarily your mind travelled to the memories of the beginning of Taehyung and yours’ relationship. You were careless and reckless but most of all happy and excited to be experiencing true love for the first time. No wonder you found it hard to let it go when it came to an end. However, what you managed to build back up with Taehyung after he came back into your life was nothing like what you had before. The relationship between the two of you was garbled and tainted, bitter-sweet.

There were moments, very few volatile moments when you felt good around Jungkook. In those moments you felt as if someone, for the lack of a better term, put a spell on you. You became both hyper-aware and jaded at the same time and everything was perfect and he was just beautiful… As realistic as you liked to be you also craved to cling onto those sweet moments.

“I know I’ve been hard on you.” you continued speaking and this time the words came from your heart, leaving the mind looming in the rearview.

You felt the nerves and anxiety start pooling at the bottom of your stomach. Desperate to hold onto this one nice thing, this one nice moment you decided to shift your focus to the barely audible rhythmic sound of Jungkook’s breathing.

“I’m usually not like that. I swear,” you paused for a second to exhale heavily and give him a chance to say something but he remained silent. “It was just a lot to see you almost kill that man then and then seeing you at Taehyung’s and everywhere else I went and with everything that Hoseok said in the park…” the words spilt out of your mouth as rapidly as they came to your mind. “You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he finally said after a couple of long seconds of quietness. “It’s fine. Really, Yn,” he assured you but you didn’t believe his words, being certain that your admitting to not wanting to love him even though it was true wasn’t ‘fine’ by him.

“I tend to get snappy when I’m stressed out.”

“You didn’t seem snappy last night and you just got fired,” you exhaled a small chuckle.

“I was too tired then,” you whined, smiling at your weak excuse. “And I needed someone to be there for me,” you added truthfully.

“I’ll always be there when you need me, Yn.”

“God, that was corny,” you laughed and your heart almost skipped a bit as you heard him do the same.

It felt a little weird talking to Jungkook so casually without feelings of anger or frustration but you liked it.

“Where are you?” you asked trailing off from his adorable declaration.

“Near,” he answered vaguely but you could swear you heard the smile in his words. “I’m always nearby.”

“You’re doing it again,” you exclaimed meaning his corniness and earning another laugh from him.

“Why are you calling me? I’m genuinely curious.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you whined shyly.

“What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip before answering, needing a moment to come to terms with the fact you were about to talk to this man about things you considered unreal as if they truly existed. You struggled to find the right words.

“I’m in the city with Taehyung right now, trying to get a job at this restaurant but it turns out the guy who runs it is… Of the same sort as Yoongi and you.”

“You mean he’s a vampire?” not immediately getting an answer to his question Jungkook decided to give you his opinion on the matter. “It’d be best for you to stay away from him.”

“That was my first thought as well but I called Yoongi about it-”

“I wasn’t your first choice?” he asked, teasing you again and you rolled your eyes.

“I called Yoongi because he knows him,” you finished your sentence. “He said that if I were to start working here it wouldn’t be ideal but in the end fine.”

“What’s his name?”

“Namjoon,” you answered without hesitation, not seeing any harm sharing the information with Jungkook.

“You’re applying to work at Honey Cafe?” you furrowed your brows at the mention of the restaurant’s name.

“You know this place?”

“Yeah, I go there all the time. It’s the only place selling blood legally in this godforsaken city,” you gulped slightly shocked which Jungkook must have picked up on because he rushed with an explanation. “Don’t worry about it. If you end up working there he won't make you serve the nonhuman customers.”

“Nonhuman,” you repeated halfheartedly. “Jungkook, I don’t know what it is but whenever I see you I don’t feel well,” you blurted out without thought.

“W-what?” he stuttered out and you weren’t sure whether he was taken by surprise or holding back a laugh caused by your bluntness.

“I- my head hurts and I can’t think straight,” you kept talking despite your mind yelling for you to stop. “Also I think Namjoon was trying to-”

“Hey,” your head snapped to your left where a wonky-looking door you didn’t notice earlier cracked open. “Yn, right?” you lowered your phone slightly, ignoring whatever questions Jungkook was asking.

You eyed the man that walked through the door. He left it open, letting the sunlight seep into the otherwise pretty dim corridor. The rays hit his black hair, making it shine prettily. He looked familiar but you couldn’t match his face to any name that came to mind.

“Jin,” he reminded you and you nodded in realisation.

“I gotta go, Jungkook, but I’ll call you back,” you said past his concerned questions and hung up. “You’re one of Yoongi’s roommates,” Jin nodded with a soft smile.

“Picking up bags for your boyfriend?” he asked and you barely had time to scrunch your eyebrows, wondering about the ‘bags’ and the ‘boyfriend’, before Namjoon’s office’s door swung open.

“Finally,” he sighed, looking at Jin who shot him an embarrassed grin. “This week’s delivery is in the freezer.”

With just a nod directed towards you, Jin left to get whatever was waiting for him in the freezer, leaving you pondering.

“I want this job,” you stated sternly, meeting Namjoon’s stare.

He knotted his arms over his chest and you saw the golden rings appearing around his otherwise brown irises. You knew what would come next if you didn’t stop him in time.

“Don’t even think about it,” you growled through gritted teeth.

“What?” he asked innocently and you rolled your eyes.

“My head hurts enough without you trying to play your tricks on me,” you sighed, not sure what tricks you meant but he seemed to have gotten the hint as he shook his head and walked back into his office.

“Write down the hours you’re available in,” he passed you a blank piece of paper. “You’ll hear from me by the end of the week,” you grabbed the closest pen you saw on the desk and wrote down ‘all day every day’ but after giving it a second thought you added a minus at the end of your sentence and wrote down the hours where you had the most important classes in your online college course.

As you strutted down the corridor you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You took out the device and read the unfamiliar number. After letting it ring for a couple of seconds you put two and two together realising it must be Jungkook who’s calling and swiping your finger across the screen.

“Don’t hang up on me like that,” he hissed and you just shook your head with a heavy sigh. “What was Namjoon trying to do? What were you going to say earlier?” he bombarded you with questions.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy,” you whispered walking back into the restaurant.

Jamie was behind the counter taking an order from a group of girls and Taehyung sat in your booth, busy doing something on his phone. You took the opportunity to slip outside and talk to Jungkook without anyone listening in.

“His eyes lit up as yours do. I think it… Made my head hurt,” you said hesitantly unsure whether Jungkook would wave you off or take your concerns seriously.

“That prick,” he snarled. “Don’t apply to work there, Yn, please.”

“Too late,” you breathed. “But I told him off for doing it so maybe he’ll stop,” Jungkook scoffed into the phone.

“If he does that again I swear- if he does that again tell me, okay?” you hummed in agreement. “Hey,” he cooed suddenly changing his tone from aggravated to sweet and soft.

“What?” you asked, looking at your feet as you leaned on the window of the cafe.

“Look up,” you did as he said and immediately smiled.

“You were near,” you thought, looking at him standing on the opposite side of the street, and he hummed a low ‘mhm’ mimicking your happy expression before looking both ways and crossing the street.

You lowered your phone, pressing on the red button to end the call and he did the same as the distance between the two of you shortened with his every step.

“I thought you might need me,” he smirked, stopping just far enough not to invade your personal space but close enough to make you aware of his presence.

You simply smiled, not knowing what to say. You called him and now here he was, right in front of you. The shadows of trees planted along the street danced over his features beautifully. Your brain seemed to have switched into a strange mode that reminded you of the choice-based video games you played on Taehyung’s XBOX way back when.

You inhaled slowly letting the smell of Jungkook’s cologne fill your lungs fully and two choices came to your mind. You could decide the scent was two heavy or take it as intoxicatingly sweet. You chose the latter.

“You good?” he asked while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his baggy pants.

You smiled and nodded, still silent. His brows twitched slightly as he stopped himself from furrowing them. He never saw this side of you, silent and soft. On the other hand, he hadn’t seen many sides of you whatsoever.

“I never came in from the front,” he said just for the sake of breaking the silence. “I usually go through the back.”

“You get your blood here?” you asked, holding back a gag that rose in your throat at the thought.

Jungkook nodded, scanning your face with caution. He felt uncomfortable. Your peaceful and quiet demeanour made him feel uneasy. He imagined there was something brewing inside of you and one miss-step could set you off, end this delightful moment and damage everything.

“I’ve got some to pick up right now,” he murmured, kicking a small rock across the pavement.

“Go get it then,” you encouraged him and this time he didn’t hold back the raise of his eyebrows. “I’ll go with you,” you proposed and turned around to push the cafe’s door open.

You still felt a little confused about, well, everything. Letting yourself play along with Jungkook’s supernatural theory gave you some weird sense of peace. You didn’t believe a word he told you about his vampiric life but at the same time, you did experience whatever it was you experienced in the park with Hoseok and him.

Jungkook walked one step behind you completely dumbfounded. He kept his hands in his pockets as the two of you stopped by the front counter.

“Namjoon’s in?” he asked Jamie and the girl nodded glancing up from her phone for a short second.

“Your stuff’s in the freezer,” she gestured for the back door leading to the corridor and Namjoon’s office.

“Where are you going?” both of your heads snapped towards Taehyung.

He was looking at you with a raised eyebrow. Before speaking up he stared Jungkook down, feeling a tinge of jealousy and annoyance at the back of his head which became the driving factor in raising his voice.

Jungkook looked at you questioningly and you nodded your head, telling him to lead the way.

“I’ll be right out,” you waved your friend off.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to see what Jungkook’s ‘stuff’ was but you knew you weren’t going to back down now especially since you were the one that proposed it.

“Besides if he thought it would be too much for me to go to the freezer with him he would undoubtedly say something,” you smiled at the thought you just heard pass through your head. “He wouldn’t willingly put me in an uncomfortable situation,” you nodded to yourself, weirded out by the fact you were so sure of Jungkook’s intentions.

You walked arm in arm with him down the corridor in the direction opposite to Namjoon’s office towards a heavy-looking metal door. Goosebumps immediately formed on your arms as it was opened from the inside and wind of cold air hit your exposed skin.

“Jungkook-ie,” Jin exclaimed, walking out of the freezer room with a big cardboard box in his hands. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought your girl was picking up your food,” you bit your lip when he used the term ‘food’ to describe blood completely letting the fact he called you Jungkook’s ‘girl’ fly over your head. “Can’t have her carry such heavy boxes, huh?” Jungkook chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “Your things are on the back shelf,” he added before bidding you both goodbye.

Jungkook stepped inside the freezer while you stayed outside. He picked up two heavy-looking boxes, stacking one on top of the other and walked back out. He shut the door closed with his foot and shot you an awkward smile.

“You need help?” you asked earning a shift in his expression.

He shook his head with a cocky grin and you walked back to the restaurant. You held the door open for him despite him commenting he can do that himself even though his arms were more than full. You ignored Taehyung’s judging glare as you walked Jungkook to his car parked on the other side of the street. He balanced the boxes in one of his arms as he tried to fish out the keys to his car out of his hoddie’s front pocket.

“Let me help you,” you hissed, unwinding your arms from the knot you held them in across your chest and stepping closer to him.

Jungkook quickly put his hand back on the bottom of the box to keep it from tilting and falling to the ground as you dug your hand into the pocket swiftly retrieving the car keys. You unlocked the vehicle and opened the trunk.

“Thanks,” Jungkook breathed out with a chuckle and you glanced down at the two boxes. “You wanna see what it looks like? It’s not that scary, really,” you looked into his eyes and noticed how sincerely he was staring at you so you muttered a faint ‘okay’ and followed his hands with your gaze as he lifted the lid of off one of the boxes.

“Hm, it’s just like it is at hospitals,” you commented looking at the neatly stacked clear bags of blood, each marked with the letter assigned to a specific type, and he hummed. “And what? You just drink it with a straw, like in cartoons?” Jungkook chuckled at your weak attempt at a joke.

“Yeah, I mix it with human food too,” he laughed and you weren’t sure if he was joking or not. “I have to have it to not be hungry,” he explained. “Regular food wouldn’t satisfy that need for me.”

“Then why eat it at all?” you asked thinking back to the time he ate McDonald’s with Taehyung and you.

“For the taste, of course,” he smirked.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and glanced at the screen. You read a short message composed of three question marks that Taehyung sent you a second ago and looked over your shoulder towards Honey Cafe.

“Go to your friend,” Jungkook said, shutting the trunk. “I’ll see you at yours later.”

“I swear if we met in different circumstances I would not have such a hard time starting to like you,” you blurted out while shaking your head slowly and turned around.

Jungkook watched you walk away as he leaned against his car, astounded.

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discotreque · 4 years ago

Text

Disco 3.08: The Sanctuary

This week IRL was a real mixed bag for me: a lot of messy and barely-manageable anxiety about my health, my day job, and uhhhh *gestures outside*—but also I’ve recently fallen in love (from a responsible social distance)—so it’s been equal parts re-writing professional emails to edit the panic attack out of my tone and gazing dreamily at Discord notifications with cartoon hearts in my eyes. It feels like my life is going to hell in the cutest, coziest handbasket—which is to say that Michael Burnham could not possibly feel like a more relatable character to me right now.

I continue to have issues with the writing at a strange medium-level—somewhere between micro, where the dialogue and characters are really good, and macro, where I’m digging the pace of the overall season, it almost feels like something went wrong in the assembly process, and the script ended up a little bit less than the sum of its perfectly good parts. Again.

But that’s such vague criticism as to be nearly meaningless, and it’s hardly the most interesting level to spend time on anyway. If I zoom out, the parallel season arcs of “getting used to the future” and “the mystery of the Burn” are hanging together wayyyyy better than the Red Angel saga did last year.

And if I zoom in? This episode was funny as shit, wtf.

The discourse re: Tilly these past couple of weeks has been bullshit, and I have a whole angry thing to say about it—but honestly, if you can’t appreciate Doug Jones and Mary Wiseman as a comedic duo, I’m not really mad: mostly I pity the lack of joy in your heart.

Everyone on this show is so funny. Doug’s prissy little delivery absolutely slaughters me (“Execute!...?”), Mary will make a face sometimes that has me screaming laughter into my hands, and I’ve gone on before—and will again—about Sonequa Martin-Green’s egregiously underrated comedy chops.

They were obviously casting for folks w/ jokes in the new season too: David Ajada is no slouch in the dry-delivery or the goofy-face department; his energy and chemistry with Sonequa are as suited to comedy as they are to romance (i.e. extremely 🥵). Anthony Rapp and Wilson Cruz we knew about, but Blu del Barrio—a certified tiny baby!!!—holds their own and lands every smartass whiz-kid one-liner just on the right side of “too precious to stand.” (I almost always at least chuckle, and never roll my eyes, and for a “teen genius” character that’s literally as good as it gets.) And living legend Michelle Yeoh is clearly having the time of her life, omfg.

Disco’s not funny-funny like Lower Decks, but they do funny-on-purpose better than any live-action Trek except maybe DS9. They have such a deep comedic bench they don’t even need Tig Notaro—they have her on just to flex, I presume.

(I don’t know if I’m predicting, per se, that Strange New Worlds—with Rebecca Romjin’s deadpan, Anson Mount’s twinkly eyes, and Ethan Peck’s twinkly-eyed deadpan—is going to have a tone somewhere between Disco S3 and LwD—but I mean... it kinda has to, right? And you know they kept the number for Rainn Wilson’s agent.)

***

At the start of this episode, I was “sure, why the fuck not” about First Officer Tilly; by the end, I was completely on board. And to everyone who’s still wringing their hands about “the real military” this (always from people who have no idea how actual militaries work, lol) and “Lt. Nilsson” that (she... already has a job on the ship? And no character traits besides “stoic” and “furrows brow”? Oh, I get it—she’s skinny and blonde)—y’all are kind of embarrassing me.

“Rank” and “position” (and “seniority” and “day-to-day duties”...) aren’t the same thing, in Star Trek or any IRL military. Yes, the permanent first officers of normal-duty Starfleet ships we’ve seen have usually been command-division officers with the rank of Commander—but not always. Star Trek: Discovery-A, if you will, is a unique show about a unique ship in a unique situation: “B-b-but that’s not how they do it on Star Trek!!!” isn’t a legitimate criticism, not of this—it’s the mournful cry of an entitled pissbaby who isn’t having their hand held all the way to the fireworks factory.

Here’s what an argument supported by the text of the first 37 episodes of Star Trek: Discovery actually looks like: Sylvia Tilly is nervous and lacks self-confidence, but once she gets over herself—which she can do pretty much instantly in a crisis, even when hilariously intoxicated—she is competent as hell. In lower-stakes situations, without intense pressure to focus her attention, she sometimes gets sidetracked by her own insecurities; at her best, she channels that anxious energy into ambition, drive, and being scrupulously organized.

The only person Tilly doesn’t always get along with is Stamets, and even Stamets’s husband thinks he’s an asshole. Since Season 1, we’ve seen her easily socializing with the rest of the crew, who seem to universally adore her. And she’s also happy to leave her social comfort zone at a moment’s notice: she aligned herself with Ash Tyler (miss you, Shazad!) when no one else would, and she instantly befriended Po even when Po was in Weird Feral Alien Princess mode and Tilly had salad in her hair. She doesn’t like confrontation, but she’s brave enough to initiate it anyway if she needs to, and she’s compassionate with other people’s feelings while still setting firm boundaries. (Her graceful dodge of Rhys’s tipsy kiss at the party in 1.07 lives rent-free in my head to this day.)

No, Tilly didn’t finish the Command Training Program—but she started it, which is almost certainly more command training than any of the lieutenants whose names we know, all of whom are Ops or Science personnel with, presumably, specialized non-command training of their own. The same could be assumed for any unseen ranking officers on this science ship with an entirely volunteer skeleton crew.

And seriously, about Nilsson: she’s my #3 background bae after Octopus Head and the lady on Pike’s Enterprise with the spiky red face, but her job is Spore Drive Ops, not personnel. If she’s running after Saru with a holo-clipboard, who’s going to look serious and push holo-buttons when there’s a Black Alert? *drops holo-mic* Drumhead!

***

The stuff on Kwejian, though. Ooof. Ol’ Two-Takes Frakes directed this one, and between the kinetic energy he always adds to the camera and the scintillating performances he evokes, things stayed moving so briskly I almost didn’t notice Book’s entire “homeworld” was a rental house outside Vancouver, a couple acres of adjacent woods, and like six or seven people.

It’s a hot mess in retrospect, but in the moment it gave us the intensity of Book and Kyheem trying to hurt each other’s feelings by poking at 15-year-old wounds, which as a sibling with complicated sibling relationships I found both funny and devastating—not to mention Frakes directing “shaky bridge” explosion falls at an obvious intensity of “10” on an outdoor location shoot. It falls apart at the slightest scrutiny, but I can’t lie, on first viewing I was totally along for the ride.

***

I’m dying to see where this Georgiou thing goes. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to assume she got Cronenberg’d a couple weeks ago, probably to get her under the thumb of this century’s Section 31, and that her arc is going to take Michelle Yeoh off this show in a way that sets up the S31 show. But also, I don’t care so much whether I’m right, I just want to watch Michelle Yeoh—and Sonequa Martin-Green, and also David Cronenberg tbh, and bring back Shazad Latif while you’re at it—get wherever they’re going.

It’s also a fun and interesting direction to take the comically-evil comic relief character and show that her performative moustache-twirling is partly habit and partly a transparent emotional defence against very real fear and vulnerability. We’re all products of our circumstances, and a radical enough change in circumstances can afford almost anyone at least the opportunity to change. I can’t say Emperor Georgiou would have been my first choice of protagonist for that storyline, but it’s not like Michelle Yeoh’s not going to fuckin’ crush it.

***

Miscellany:

So the Burn had an origin point, and now that point is broadcasting a signal that’s somehow both a haunting melody that everyone seems to know—but no one can remember learning—and a Federation distress signal. What the fuck, y’all. I have full-body goosebumps just typing that.

Saru workshopping his own captainly catchphrase with the aid of Tilly’s extreme sincerity and organizational skills is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened on this show—followed closely by the uncomfortably lingering reaction shots when he’s trying them out on the bridge 😂 (And omg please give Rhys and Bryce the dumbass buddy-comedy C-plots they deserve next season, I beg you.)

I would do a little “prop watch” entry on those Kwejianian(?) bolt-throwing rifles, but I’d have to stop drooling over them first. “Curvy polished hardwood” seems to be New Trek shorthand for “extra sleek and futuristic” (cf. the bridge of the USS Titan in the LwD finale), and I have to say: I am fully into it.

Restating my prediction that we will not see Detmer and Owosekun get together this season, because we will find out that they’ve been together for ages. Everyone knew—Pike even knew!—it just never came up in front of the audience before. That would be one of the cutest ways to do it imho, and one of the funniest too, especially as a meta-joke about how much character development didn’t happen in the first two seasons. (That said, if we get to see their first kiss, I will be screaming with incoherent joy for days, so this is a real win-win for me.)

Speaking of cute: IRL spouses Mary Wiseman and Noah Averbach-Katz, both Julliard-trained actors (it’s where they met!), can’t quite hide their chemistry in the scenes between Tilly and Ryn. I loved seeing Tilly be a hardass when Ryn was rude to the captain, but that sparkle in her eyes didn’t quite match the context <3

And speaking of people who are VERY OBVIOUSLY IN LOVE: that last scene with Book and Michael, and his nervous little “yeah, I said it” eyebrow lift, and her irrepressible giggle as she’s walking away... it was almost too much. Especially right after the queer-family scenes with Stamets and Culber and Adira. My poor heart is going through a lot lately, and I guess I’m just glad Season 3’s emotional intensity is melting it with soft sweet scenes like that instead of kicking it down repeated flights of stairs like Season 1.

***

Next week: everyone stops caring about the Burn and starts trying to solve an even more important mystery—why is this (holographic) dude wearing an early-2360s uniform with an early-2370s combadge?

#star trek discovery #disco spoilers #star trek discovery spoilers #amy's episode notes

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iosyuno · 4 years ago

Text

Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years?

(based off Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’)

Pairing: Johnny x reader

Genre: fluff.

boyfriend!johnny, non idol!Johnny

-> listen while reading <-

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

You could definitely get used to this, seeing Johnny coming home to your still Christmas decorated home and you smile up at him. You swore you saw your boyfriend’s face beam brighter than the fairy lights surrounding the door frame, “Hi, baby!” Johnny snakes an arm around your waist as you welcome him in while he leans down to leave a sweet peck to your lips.

“You’re early, I thought you’d be sending a text or two before you were on your way back home.” You wondered out loud, although grateful he didn’t because you didn’t want to get rid of this giddy and happy feeling of him coming home unexpectedly. “Are you saying you don’t want to see me?” The tall man pouts, in the process of taking off his shoes as well as his fur coat, and you shut the front door to keep the cold out. “Then I guess I’ll just stay at the dorms after we watch that movie.” He dramatically sighs after saying so.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest “You’re impossible, Seo Youngho.” Johnny only grins and laughs at the way you use his full name, “You love me.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

Somehow both of you grew bored of the Netflix movie you had put on, left on pause and instead Taylor Swift’s ‘Lover’ was blasting through the speakers in your living room. Couch empty and the warm unmade blanket completely forgotten as well as the opened pack of chips and a box of pizza, on the makeshift table that are originally just a stack of magazines. You both already had 2 or 3 glasses of wine, now here you were, slow dancing with your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, savoring each other’s presence.

“Your breath smells like wine and pizza.” Johnny mutters with a playful smile, “Way to ruin the mood, Johnny.” All he could do was shake his head and nudge your nose with his, you knew you couldn’t stay annoyed at him, not even for 10 minutes. No, you’re not whipped. It’s just something you’ve gotten used to, your tolerance for your highly playful, flirty and ever soft ball of fluff of a boyfriend was just….high? infinite, maybe. But it’s just not the term “whipped”.

He had somehow read your expression, and your mind, “Penny for your thoughts?” this makes you hum and press your lips to a line. “I just…what would we be doing now if I hadn’t tagged along on Joy’s café hopping day.” Your man presses a kiss to your forehead, you close your eyes as he does so, “Then you wouldn’t have met me. I wouldn’t have asked you out the following week, and asked you to be mine a few months later,” he explains with the same smug and playful smile playing on his lips, hands still on my waist whilst leaving another kiss to my forehead.

“And I wouldn’t be asking you to marry me.” You just hummed in agreement, nibbling your lower lip. It took you awhile to process what he said, your eyes were now the size of saucers and now all you could see in front of you was Johnny bent down to one knee and holding your hand in his. You couldn’t help but tear up now and start laughing with him from how smooth this all went for your ever dorky boyfriend.

“Isn’t the part where you say yes?” Johnny jokes, placing a kiss to your hand and you don’t notice the silver band which beholds all diamonds almost bedazzled to it. By now your cheeks were stained with continuous happy tears, “Isn’t this the part where you shut up?” you retort, saying ‘yes’ anyway and kneeling right in front of him to bring him into a deep, passionate kiss. Let’s just say: you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, absolutely happy to call each other a new title that was ‘fiance’.

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

Here you were, sitting in a dressing room and trying to get over this feeling of cold feet, like something in your stomach was tossing and turning from anxiety. The worst part was over but why were you so nervous? You couldn’t think straight at this point, and you weren’t one to lose it over simple things? You inwardly cringed at how easily you were losing your shit, so you took a few deep breaths and straightened out the skirt of your dress. Taking one last look in the mirror, guitar in hand and walking out the room, towards the stage of the wedding reception.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand and give a round of applause for our Y/N!” Johnny’s best friend and best man, Jaehyun, shoots you a soft yet worried dimpled smile when he saw the expression you had. You swallowed nervously, looking through the applauding crowd, a few loud cheers coming from your group of friends. Smiling shyly, “Hello and good evening, everyone! I-I hope you’re all having a good time?” mentally facepalming yourself as it came out as a question, clearing your throat. “This is a VERY big night and I’m so happy to share this quite of an underrated song that I’ve picked out for tonight.” You peer at the rest of the band, nodding once and starting off the intro of the song ‘Amaze Me’ by Union J.

Little things that you do

That we share, me and you are where i breathe

You still blind, me with such wonder stuff

Just one touch is all I need……..

Minutes later, you had managed to break into a smile and the guests at the dance floor who had been slow dancing to your performance, turned to you to applaud except for two people. The love of your life, Johnny...and his wife, the love of his life, Joy. The newly wed. Your eye lock with Johnny had you rushing off the stage and back into the dressing room, only to break down into tears as you heard your heart break even more. Realization dawned,

that it was never you.

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sageblogsthings · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any tips on how to write characters with scoliosis in a respectful/accurate way?

Thank you so much for asking! I smiled like an idiot when I saw this ask. :) Let me preface this by saying that scoliosis can vary a lot from person to person depending on the severity of curvature, location of curvature, treatment methods, etc. So I think that, as with anything really, getting a wide range of viewpoints and voices on the issue will make it easier to write! Honestly just scrolling through the scoliosis tag on tumblr will give you a good sense of what it’s like for some people too. With that being said, I’ll talk a bit about my experience, and how I wish that characters with scoliosis were portrayed. Just know that my answer is far from universal amongst those with scoliosis. Also, medical treatment where I live is pretty shitty so I may have some other undiagnosed stuff that I’m attributing to scoliosis who knows lol. And I’m still learning a lot about it myself! Ok, with that caveat out of the way, here we go!

I’m gonna put a tw here for discussions of scoliosis, chronic pain, anxiety, and depression

Also, for those who don’t wanna read about my experiences with scoliosis, if you scroll down there’s 13 tips on how to write characters with scoliosis (a lot of these tips apply to chronic pain in general tho). :)

To talk about my own experience a bit, I was first diagnosed with scoliosis when I was about 10 or so. When I was first diagnosed they told me it was minor and just to watch my posture. Scoliosis runs in my family but for most of my family members it’s pretty mild so I didn’t worry about it and went on my merry way. In hindsight, not the best way to deal with that but ah well.

Flash-forward to college. I had been having back pain and headaches for awhile, but I just figured it was studying for prolonged periods of time, carrying a heavy backpack frequently, and not watching my posture when I studied. I never connected it to scoliosis because I hadn’t had a check-up since that first diagnosis. Again, not the best idea but life happens.

I just finished my junior year in college, and I have had almost non-stop doctors appointments all year. It started after I had some sharp pain in my lower back, and got x-rays to see what was going on. Several doctors appointments and an ER visit later I find out that my scoliosis has gotten significantly worse, and that I have a fractured L5 as well. One thing I don’t see mentioned a lot with scoliosis is that it significantly weakens your spine (usually lower) because your weight distribution is thrown off. I had a job that involved some pretty heavy lifting, and voila fractured L5. 13/10 would not recommend btw.

My curvature (I can’t get consistent answers from doctors) is somewhere in the 20′s in my lumbar region and in the upper 20′s/lower 30′s in my thoracic region. At least with the neurosurgeons I’ve spoken to, they don’t consider you a candidate for surgery until the upper thirties or forties, unless you have significant neurophysiological symptoms. Treatment options vary widely depending on where you live, what you can afford, and what your doctor will give you a referral for, but most doctors will recommend physical therapy off the bat. To my knowledge, most doctors do not recommend bracing anymore, though I think in children that might be different (not so sure on that). So currently, I am waiting on an appointment with a pain management specialist and will go from there.

Even though the curvature in my spine is relatively minor, I still experience significant symptoms. Some of these symptoms include sciatica, pinched nerves in my arms, legs, and back, muscle spasms in my upper back and neck, swelling of my hands and feet, and numbness or pain in my hands and wrists. Also, because my spine curves more in the upper portion of my back, my left lung cannot expand as much as my right lung. This isn’t always a problem, but I get shortness of breath pretty easily, and any respiratory infections make it super hard to breathe properly (pneumonia sucks a butt). There’s also the obvious bit of scoliosis where I stand a little crooked. Another thing I think that not a lot of people know is that how “lopsided” you are can vary from day to day. This doesn’t mean that the curvature is changing day-to-day, but the muscles may be more relaxed or tightened on some days.

So that’s my experience pretty much (bless you if you read all that!). But, to show an example on the opposite end of the spectrum, my friend had (I think) a 30 degree curvature in the thoracic region and 50 degree curvature in the lumbar. He had immediate corrective surgery (I’m not sure exactly what kind) and now aside from the scar on his back and that he looks like a table when he bends over (his words lol i’m not being mean) you would never know. And even weirder, he had no significant symptoms before his surgery aside from occasional sciatica. So your symptoms don’t necessarily depend on the degree of curvature, where the curve is located has a lot to do with it. Typically, more curvature in the upper spine is more painful but that’s by no means always the case.

Ok, so how in the heck does this all apply to writing characters? I promise it does, I’m not just rambling (well, maybe haha).

13 Things to Consider When Writing Characters With Scoliosis:

Their symptoms may vary from day to day. This may mean that some days they can do activities like running or baseball, and other days they can barely type or walk without pain.

They may have no, mild, or severe symptoms, depending on the location and severity of curvature, and other factors.

What is medical care like where they live? Dealing with doctors, neurosurgeons, physical therapists, etc. is just a part of having scoliosis, and very often an incredibly draining aspect. This is especially true if you have anxiety or other factors that make going to the doctor even more unpleasant.

Were they misinformed about scoliosis? Unless you go to someone who specializes in scoliosis treatment, you’re probably gonna get inaccurate information about something. For example, I was told constantly as a kid to watch my posture. Yes, this can have an impact, but more and more research is showing that scoliosis in many cases is influenced more by hormones (especially in teenage years) than posture. There’s also more egregious examples of this, such as a neurosurgery PA who recently told me not to ever use CBD to alleviate pain because it’s a “gateway drug.” This is literally impossible. So for writing, this could translate into frustration or even anger for your character. But it could also make for some funny situations later! I wrote down everything that crazy PA told me and it still makes me laugh from time to time.

Don’t give them a back-breaking job. It will literally break their back lol. I’m not saying they can’t be active, but if someone is impacted by scoliosis on a daily basis they probably aren’t working as a professional wrestler. Or maybe they are, and your story is trying to explain how that works lol

What do they do to manage the pain (if they have it)? For me, the symptoms are typically inflammatory in nature so things like ice, heat, turmeric tea, and anti-inflammatory medications help relieve the symptoms. This is one of those things where getting other viewpoints is good though too!

Is their spine visibly crooked? If so, are they self-conscious about it? This varies a loooot, and may even vary with symptoms. For example, maybe some days when the pain isn’t bad they wear a cute dress that shows their shoulder-blades. But then when the pain is bad, they just want to look like a hobo. I say this from experience lol.

Have people treated them differently because of it (positively or negatively)? Some people may experience bullying if their scoliosis is more visible, especially as a child. They may also be treated differently by adults, who are trying to look out for them, but nevertheless it still makes them stand out from other kids.

Do they make jokes about it? For example, I can be found frequently saying “my spine said yeet!” or “straight spine? idk her” or my personal favorite “my spine is about as straight as I am.” Scoliosis sucks, but living with it you learn to find humor in it too.

Are they going to get surgery for it? I can’t speak on this part since I haven’t had surgery, but I would imagine that there is a psychological aspect to this that you would want to mention for your character, as well as any logistical aspects like finances, dealing with trash insurance companies, etc.

How does scoliosis impact their mental health? This is one of my pet peeves, and it’s entirely founded in a lack of resources and education, so I’m not aiming this at anyone specifically. But scoliosis does impact your mental health, especially if you have pre-existing conditions like anxiety or depression already. It can be incredibly depressing to want to do something as simple as going for a walk, but you’re in too much pain. It can also really impact anxiety. For example, when I found out about my curvature change in college I had one of the biggest anxiety attacks I’ve ever had. There is also the added issue of not being able to breathe properly at times, which can make a panic/anxiety attack much worse (in intensity or duration). Of course, mental health issues can also be exacerbated by the environment you’re in, so that is definitely something to consider for your character.

What was their diagnosis like? What factors impacted their ability to get a diagnosis? Lack of adequate medical care or having crappy insurance is a huge problem, and it makes it really hard or even impossible for some people to get a diagnosis. And for most neurosurgeons or specialized treatment facilities you have to have that diagnosis and referral for them to be able to do anything. There may also be aspects of your character’s home life that prevents them from getting a diagnosis. Do their parents think they’re faking it, or that they just need to sit up straight? Is your character trans, and/or wears baggy clothing? I’ve heard several stories of undiagnosed cases because of this, so it’s something to consider.

Ok, I think this is the last thing (huge huge thank you to anyone still reading this!!). But please, if you’re writing a character with scoliosis, or any chronic issue/disability for that matter, avoid the trope of you’re still beautiful to me/you’re beautiful anyways/I don’t see your disability. Some people might not get what I’m saying here, so let me explain a little. If you have a character with significant scoliosis, to the point it impacts their daily life, and they meet another character (potential friend, love interest, whatever) and this new person grows to love them in spite of their scoliosis/disability, that is a huge red flag. It implies that they are seeing them through a lens of not having the disability, and they love that version of your character. But that is not your character in reality, because your character in reality has a very real disability. In general, just try to avoid the “I don’t see __,” in writing and real life. That could be applied to a disability, or the character’s race, sexuality, etc. In all cases, it dismisses a fundamental part of who that character is, and what experiences have shaped them into who they are. If your character has scoliosis and it has shaped who they are, it is important for other characters to recognize that as well, otherwise they aren’t really seeing that character in their “full glory,” if that makes sense. I’m rambling a bit at this point and I’m sure there’s other posts that make this point better than I have, but the takeaway is just please don’t write scoliosis as “you’re beautiful anyways.” Scoliosis or no scoliosis, it’s just “you’re beautiful.” Full stop. But part of how your character may come to recognize that beauty within themselves, or how others see it within them, may be influenced by their experiences with scoliosis.

Phew, I did not expect that to get so long but it’s a topic I’m passionate about and I haven’t seen information on scoliosis geared towards writers before, so hopefully this will help! Again, a lot of this is based on my own experiences so please do not take any of this as a universal guide to scoliosis, it definitely isn’t. And if I’ve said anything that people disagree with (or even agree with!) or have questions about, I am always open to polite discourse and discussion. :)

I hope that this answered your question some, and if not feel free to let me know! Thank you so much for asking this!

#ask #scoliosis #writing characters with scoliosis #kit chats #am i oversharing? probably #am i gonna share this anyways? yes #chronic pain #writeblr #representation #kit answers

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cannibal-wings · 5 years ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

I’ve been writing Survivors again and figured I’d drop this really serious scene in my super serious story written by a totally serious author.

R was doing his absolute best to ignore the other human in the room. But it was rather difficult when he could feel the human’s eyes on him. The other man thought he was being sneaky, but he wasn’t. R expanded his chest out in way that would convey he was taking an annoyed breath. He had seen his Host do that many times and it seemed like the appropriate response.

“Why do you do that?” Waylon asked.

R did the motion again and put the book he was reading down to reach for the white board his Host insisted on buying. He heard his Host say in his head, “Communication is important R, it’s the most important thing we have. It makes relationships and partnerships work. We can’t do this without better communication. For all of us.”

He growled through the static, something that Waylon couldn’t feel but his Host probably could. Then he uncapped the pen to write, “Do what?”

“Sigh? Breathe? It’s fake right? So why bother?”

“Body language is important in expressing emotions.”

Waylon read that and then said, “So you are imitating human emotion. Why? You aren’t human and no one can see or hear you, well, besides Upshur.”

R quickly wrote, “We adopt behaviors from Our Host. We may not be human, but We are forced to communicate with one. With you. We have emotions. As much as We hate that fact.”

“You hate it?” R nodded. “Why?”

“We were not supposed to be like this.”

“Like this? What do you mean?”

R erased what he had written and scribbled some more, in smaller handwriting. He had to stand up and hand the whiteboard over so that Waylon could read it. “We are not supposed to be separate from Our Host. Something went wrong. Our ideal function is to be one. One being, one mind, one action. Not two. We are two. There is Us and then there is Our Host. The unfortunate end result of this is that We have developed a sense of self. We don’t like it.”

R knew that his host would call bullshit on that last point. But his Host knew him far more intimately than the other human did. With the human he could pretend to loath his emotions, hate his new found individuality. With his Host there were no such secretes and his Host could read him as easily as he himself read books.

At the end of it all, R liked being R. He liked being partnered with his Host. Out of the sixty odd years he had been alive on this planet, this was the best he had ever felt. He knew wasn’t supposed to feel to begin with, but he did, and it was far too late to change that.

“So you want to not exist?”

R shook his head and took the whiteboard back. “Not existing is not the same as not having personhood.”

Waylon was quick to say, “No, I know that. That’s not what I meant. I mean you as in your thoughts, your… what does Miles call you? R? You would rather not be R?”

“Correct,” he lied through ink.

“What about Upshur? Do you think he would like being one?”

“We do not know. Most likely not. Our Host is very invested in his sense of self, and his humanity.”

Waylon nodded. “Of course he cares about such things. Being human should be important.”

“Why?” R was curious to see how Waylon would answer. He had asked this same question to his Host and not received a particularly compelling response. His host always managed to dodge the question or wax poetic about the value of “humanity”. R just couldn’t see any reason to prescribe such attachment to a fickle concept as a label. While he was thinking he was alerted suddenly to a wild spike in his Host’s blood pressure. R snapped to attention and turned his head to the bathroom door. His Host was supposed to be taking a shower, typically his resting heartrate decreases while showering, something was wrong.

Waylon caught the way that R froze and stared at the door. “Is something wrong?” Even without an answer his anxiety started to bubble up and his cultivated flight or fight response was tipping towards flight. The Walrider didn’t answer, instead it set the whiteboard down and moved for the bathroom door. Without warning it slammed the door open and rushed in. Waylon surprised himself when instead of running for the Jeep he was on R’s heels and entered the bathroom too.

Miles yelped in surprise at the sound of the door flying open. Waylon couldn’t see him but he could hear that he slipped and fell in the tub with a shout. R yanked the shower curtains back to a very confused Miles. “R what the hell? Are we being attacked?”

“That’s what We were going to ask you,” The Walrider replied, an edge of panic in the static. “We felt your heartrate increase and We were-”

Miles cut him off, “You felt my heartrate increase?”

Waylon peered from behind the Walrider and asked, “You ok Upshur?”

“Y-Yeah I’m fine, nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“Nothing wrong? The Walrider looked panicked.”

“The Walrider needs to learn to fucking knock,” Miles said back.

It was then that Waylon’s eyes drifted across Miles’ body, it was hard not to, with the way he was sprawled out in the tub. Little travel sized shampoo and conditioner bottles were knocked onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re-” his eyes finally found their way down to Miles’ crotch and then they whipped back up to meet Miles’ gaze. “Oh, you were…”

Instead of embarrassment Miles only smiled and chuckled. “Like what you see? You know, normally I’d welcome an audience, but you’re a married man and R is a bunch of nanites. So, if you’d excuse me, I’d like some privacy as I finish up.”

“Y-Yes of course,” Waylon could feel his face heat up and he knew it wasn’t from the steamy water. Absent mindedly he grabbed at R’s wrist and tugged the Walrider out of the room and shut the door behind them. Then he realized what he had grabbed and let go like the smooth, cool, skin burned him. He moved back to his bed and scooted up against the wall.

After a few more minutes Miles came strolling out of the bathroom, a pair of sweatpants sat loosely around his waist and a towel hung around his neck. Water still dripped from his hair. “Shower’s open,” he said to state the obvious. “And you,” he said to R, “you need to knock before you barge in on a guy like that.”

“Host how were We supposed to know your blood pressure had increased in a non-danger response?”

“Well you could start by asking? Or maybe stop to feel the waves of pleasure? I sure as shit don’t radiate that when I’m being shot at.”

Waylon blurted from across the room, “I can’t believe you haven’t had The Talk with the Walrider yet.” A pause then he added, “And I can’t believe I have to hear it second hand, right now.”

“And I can’t believe I haven’t jerked off in two months. Cut me some slack, sex education wasn’t exactly high on my priority list recently.” He brought the towel up to rub through his hair and started to laugh again. “I’m not laughing at you,” he said to clarify when he spotted Waylon’s forced frown. “Come on, it’s not like you’ve never seen-”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore,” Waylon said and pulled his knees up and placed his computer on top of them, clearly blocking out Miles and R from sight. Miles kept laughing.

There was some silence and then Waylon lowered the laptop screen and asked, “Did that hurt?” When Miles tilted his head slightly to ask Waylon spluttered, “You know, getting your…” he pointed down at his own crotch.

“Oh, the piercings? Nah. I like to joke that I’m ribbed for-”

“Nope!” Waylon said sharply, “Do not finish that sentence. Too much information!”

Miles shook his head and laughed again. “You’re the one who asked. You’re a hoot.”

#Outlast #Survivors #Miles Upshur #Waylon Park #The Walrider #R

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years ago

Text

The wrong girl, pt.4 (E.D.)

Summary: Ethan finds himself stunned once Y/N shows up at his door.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

The Wrong Girl - Masterlist

"You're here!" Ethan exclaimed, stopping in the middle of his heated rant with himself and furious pacing back and forth his living room.

Y/N swallowed thickly, biting her lower lip as she cast her eyes to the older twin who had made a wreck out of her life.

"And I come bearing gifts." She pushed herself to smile, trying not to stare at his murky brown pools of chocolate he calls eyes.

Ethan looks at her hand, noticing the Starbucks goods she equipped herself with, raising a brow with uncertainty.

"Dairy free, I remembered." Y/N rolled her eyes as his lips immediately spread wider in response, a little too happy she kept his quirks so close to heart even after all this time. After all the grief she gave him for giving up such an important food group, he didn't think she'd account for it.

"That's great, but, uh, not to be a party pooper, but you're here?" Ethan steps toward her, just a small step that lessened the distance between them insignificantly in the actual sense, not nearly enough to make her feel uncomfortable. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice.

"Do you", she trailed off, itching to leave already as his continuous questioning of her current whereabouts made her anxiety skyrocket because she was right where she wanted to be, she just didn't want to talk about it, "not want me to be here?"

Widening his eyes, Ethan stumbled, losing footing and nearly falling head down. At the same time, Y/N screamed his name, terrified he's about to bang his head on the coffee table Grayson built, cracking his skull in the process. He's always acted like he doesn't have all his pieces together, but that would ensure it's true.

"You okay?" Her voice trembled, her hands shaking and the drinks she held onto were a moment away from spilling all over Ethan's precious carpets. He quite literally spent five trips to the store before he chose a carpet and he loved them way too much for it to be healthy, but it was just another quirk of his she learned to not only accept but love as well.

"I want you. Here, I mean. But I do want you. As in I want you with me. All the time. Everywhere." He looked up, his hands still at the table and the floor, keeping him steady while she seemed impassive to his proclamation.

"Everywhere?" Her eyebrow shot up, her lips curling to the left as her playful side came out.

"The bed, the shower, the car, the kitchen table, our pool, yeah. Everywhere." Ethan played along, honestly missing the flirtatious moments they shared when they just met. She looked like fun from the start and he wanted to know every part of her complicated soul.

"Well, if you get my stuff from your yard, I'm sure we can make a few arrangements." She replied, pressing her lips together as her eyes flickered to her feet and remained on the drinks.

Ethan didn't miss a beat, jumping to his legs and finally diminishing the distance between them, taking away the drinks only to return to her and grab her face in his hands.

He was the kind of guy that wouldn't take an order but never needed to; whatever he was supposed to do, he did it. He told bad jokes and danced with moves humanity hasn't had the pleasure or horror of seeing for some time - and in her embarrassment she had never loved him more.

"You're moving out?" He asked out of breath, hearing his heart just as clearly as he could see her.

"Yeah. But, um, since I moved in with him, my old place is already gone and I have nowhere else to go." She sighed deeply, feeling overwhelming shame because she couldn't believe how stupid she was.

"I think I wanted to hurt you most of all. It's just that I'm so fucking bad at love and I made so many mistakes", but she doesn't get to end her rant, for he does it for her when his lips capture hers in a passion filled kiss that pulled her to her tiptoes just so their lips wouldn't part, even for a single moment. She could not have pulled back even if the world was ending. The first touch of his lips sent an aching shudder through her; his arms immediately closed around her, pulling her against him. Hardness surrounded her, his muscled arms caged her. His head angled, the pressure of his lips increased. They were hard, like the rest of him - commanding, demanding and a heartbeat later they were warm, enticing, seductively persuasive.

Y/N stilled, quivering, then he tugged and she plunged forward, into the unknown his lips offered. It was not the first time she'd been kissed, yet it was. Never before had there been magic in the air, never before had she been taken by the hand and introduced to a world of pure pleasure that a kiss could bring - so intimate, so heavy that most men couldn’t achieve completely naked.

His kiss left her giddy. Pleasurably giddy. What little breath she managed to catch, he took. The tip of his tongue traced her lips, a beguilingly artful caress. She knew she'd be wise to ignore it for he was leading her into realms beyond her knowledge, where he would be the leader, dominant one who would teach her things no one before him could despite trying.

A most unwise situation, a dangerous situation.

His lips firmed, heart welled, melting all resistance. On a sigh, she parted her lips farther, giving into his arrogant demand. He took what he wanted, shaking to her core.

However, humans are built so they need air and once their oxygen ran out, they separated, panting and smiling like teenagers.

Stunned, her wits reeling, she searched his face. One black brow slowly arched; his arms tightened.

"Was that okay?" Ethan chuckled, wondering if he crossed a line but he could hardly contain himself.

"Depends if it was because you love me or if you did it just to shut me up"

"Can it be both?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry? I can order something." He offered, still not moving as his lips brushed hers with every breath.

"Yeah, but not for food." She breathes out, all but whimpering with need for him even though she wasn't completely honest with him. In fact, she believed it would be better if he didn't know she had a few secrets left.

"I'm going to get your stuff first and we can definitely elaborate on that after." Ethan winked. His voice has a husky drawl and every step he takes is in slow motion to his front door with her just behind him and she knows he’s walking slow so she doesn’t have to run after him, but he’s rather confused once he finds only a duffel bag on his doorstep.

"Why is there only a duffel bag here?" Ethan frowned, unsure with what he's seeing because he knows he and she had so much stuff in her apartment it baffled him how she even got everything over to Jack's.

"Yeah. Uh, don't worry about it." Her tiny voice made him whip around, getting heated all over again and not for her body like he expected.

"What is happening right now?" He asked through gritted teeth, hating how she flinched with his tone and it only made his heart drop further when he realized his Snowflake looked way too fragile for him to be sharp with her.

When your world explodes from the inside Ethan is the man you want next to you. He feels the shock-wave and stays on his feet. Whatever he had to do disappears as he refocuses on what needs to be done. He'll cover every angle and stay right there until you can breathe, walk and talk at the same time. Then he stands back and lets you get back on with your life, never mentioning your crisis again and not wanting to discuss it further if that’s what you wish. But once the storm has passed his tolerance for backward steps is all but non-existent and negativity is banned. His shoulder is only for crying on when you can't stand alone, after that he expects you build inner strength, resilience. That’s what she loved most about him, because he would pick her up when she falls and help her piece herself together, but once she’s whole, he will not treat her like she’s made out of glass.

"Well, Jack and I...he doesn't know I'm here." She paused, drawing in a few quick, short little breaths as if she's trying to gather courage to speak. "Or that I'm not coming back." She finished, making Ethan break his own promise as his sharp tone pierced her defenses and she took a steal back just by seeing the fire in his eyes.

"You didn't break up with him?!"

GIF credit: @erosdolan

Tags: @accalialionheart @fallinginlove-16 @xalayx @heyits-claire @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes @peacedolantwins @blackpinkdolan @dolandrabbles @softiegrant @inlovewithethandolan

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #dolan twins #ethan dolan angst #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan mini series #ethan dolan imagine

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sprnklersplashes · 5 years ago

Text

not beyond repair (16/20)

AO3

As March goes on, the clouds finally give way to the sunshine, painting the pavements golden and staying long enough to make the Westerberg faculty give way and allow their students-senior only, of course-to have their lunch outside, much to the delight of the students. Gone is the crowded, claustrophobic cafeteria, traded for sprawling across green lawns and chasing each other around the parking lot with water bottles in hand. There are outside tables, but they sit abandoned and alone, the sun glinting off their plastic. Even if they weren’t in dire need of a good cleaning, the students avoid them and trip over each other to get to the long stretch of grass out front instead, where four years ago they practised handstands and blushed when their skirts fell down. There’s a degree of freedom here that’s unlike anywhere inside, and certainly wouldn’t be found amongst the cafeteria tables. The social hierarchy isn’t completely invisible, the lines still clear when Heather Chandler perches on the wall and only her select few sit around her, but they blur when the rest of the student body are sprawled around her and walking on the walls and leaning back to share candy with classmates. And even Heather herself is too busy enjoying the change of scenery and fresh air to muster up a damn.

In the middle of the grass, Veronica stifles a laugh at Heather Mac, who frowns down at her legs, her skirt rolled up as much as she can while maintaining her dignity and her socks scrunched down.

“I really want a good tan,” she explains, taking her blazer off as well.

“Yeah, you’re bound to get it,” JD says flatly. Heather, unsure of his intent, as always, chooses to take it as an encouragement and beams at him.

“At least you don’t have that big trench coat anymore,” she points out, gesturing to the blue jacket that he’s using as a sort of tablecloth. “That would have cooked you alive. And it just wasn’t trendy.”

“They were the height of fashion in Indiana,” he says. Heather hums nonchalantly before being distracted by Martha offering her a cookie. She accepts with a grin and, after a look around to make sure no-one’s watching them, a kiss on her cheek.

“Aw, what a beautiful display of friendship,” JD remarks, sarcasm dripping off him like honey off a honeycomb. Heather sticks her tongue out at him, but what little malice there was in the gesture is gone when they start laughing together. Even if Veronica does slap his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Veronica asks, nudging Martha lightly with her foot. Her half-eaten lunch caught Veronica’s eye, but her panic was subdued immediately when she saw the reason; her head bent over, focussing on a task that had her hands moving quickly and delicately. Martha looks up with a smile on her face. Veronica leans over a little and it falls into place in a second; it’s what they’ve done every year the minute the flowers started blooming. And it’s probably the reason for the distinct lack of flowers around Martha.

“Daisy chain,” she says proudly, holding up her handiwork, both ends falling over her hands and hanging above the ground. Heather gasps as though she’s held up a chain of pure gold rather than the most common flowers.

“Hey, show me how to do it,” she squeaks, giving Martha her full attention. Laughing, Veronica shares a knowing look with JD while her own hands pick daisies from the ground without ever looking down. She falls into an easy rhythm of opening the flower and threading the stem through it, even if she pokes herself more than a few times.

“Come on, J,” she teases, nudging him. “Don’t tell me you’re too manly to make daisy chains.

“Um, I am very secure in my masculinity thank you very much,” he says, pulling a notebook out of his bag and showing the pages to her. “Look. Glitter pen. Courtesy of MacNamara.”

“Wow you’re the pinnacle of progression,” she replies flatly. Grinning, he puts the notebook back in his bag and begins plucking a bunch of daisies for himself.

“Okay. So how do I do this?” he asks, watching Veronica. “Just rip the stem open and put the other on in there?”

“That was violent,” Martha says, looking up from her work, which Heather is watching with wide eyes.

“I prefer passionate,” he says. “It’s a metaphor for the harsh nature of life and how it tears apart innocence.”

“Calm down there Shakespeare it’s a flower necklace,” Veronica says. “Come here, let the pro show you how it’s done.” He turns to face her and she takes two of the flowers out of his lap, digging her thumbnail into the stem. “Okay, here, so you make a slit in the stem like that… and then you thread the other one through like that. And then you keep going until you make… whatever you want. Crown, necklace, bracelet-”

“Scarf?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’d be an achievement,” she remarks, handing the beginnings of his chain to him. She spends a few minutes just watching him. “Or, you could always make a weird ear thing to dangle from your boyfriend’s ear while he’s distracted.”

He blinks adorably at her for a moment, bewildered, before his hand slowly comes up to his ear and finds the flowers hanging from there. Veronica erupts into giggles behind her hands and even Martha has to chuckle at him.

“Jokes on you losers, I’m keeping it,” he declares with a toss of his head. “I look fabulous.”

“Yeah you do,” Veronica agrees, resting her cheek on his shoulder, daisy stems tickling her face.

“Oh my gosh!” Heather pipes up, sitting back on her heels. As their eyes fall on her with confused expectation, she clears her throat and lowers her voice, subtly gesturing over Veronica’s shoulder. “Look. I think Betty’s college letter might have come in.”

“Not our business,” Veronica says, despite the quick glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Betty is sitting cross-legged on the grass opposite her friend Amber, a brown envelope in her hand. “She brought it to school?”

“Maybe she was nervous,” JD says softly.

“Or maybe it’s a superstitious thing,” Heather says. “My dad said when he got his letter he brought it to his school to open to the school spirits would bless him.”

“My mom opened hers in a church when she got it,” Martha adds, looking from one friend to the next anxiously. “Has anything come in for you guys yet?”

“Not a thing,” Heather sighs, her shoulders slumping and her whole body deflating in a way that almost makes her look unrecognisable. Martha puts an arm around her and pulls her closer.

“Neither have I, and that doesn’t mean anything yet,” she tells her.

“I haven’t heard anything,” Veronica adds. “Not Harvard, not Duke, not Brown. Not even my reserves.” She hopes she sounds more casual than she feels. Like she doesn’t check the mail twice every morning and isn’t one step away from standing outside and getting it from the mailman herself to make sure he’s not leaving it in his bag.

Breathe. That’s what she tells herself every day.

“How many colleges did you apply to?” JD asks, continuing with his daisy chain.

“Just five,” she says. “I don’t really care about the other two. Just wanted my mom not to worry.”

“Oh well I haven’t heard anything either,” he remarks. “They probably didn’t get the application I never sent.”

“My dad will kill me if I don’t get into college,” Heather says, her words getting faster and faster. “And it means all the work would have been for nothing.”

“Nothing?” Martha echoes, running a hand up her arm. Heather smiles, even if it’s weak.

“Okay, not entirely nothing. I did get to spend a lot of time with my favourite tutor,” she remarks. But she pulls her knees close to her chest. “But my dad’s been telling everyone how good I’ve been at school. How I’m definitely getting into a good college.” She picks at her knee-length white socks and pulls at the yellow ribbon on them. “I think he’s about to buy me one just to get me into one.”

“If he does can we all share it?” JD asks. “Can we have sleepovers.”

“Um, I don’t know,” Heather says, chuckling. “My mom doesn’t let me have sleepovers with boys. She thinks I’m going to do stuff with them.”

“Like what, glitter art?” JD asks, reaching into his bag and pulling out a packet of red liquorice. “Okay, who wants one? Just don’t tell Claire I had them. She’s on my case about my sugar levels again.”

Heather and Martha take one each, the conversation taking an easy turn away from college anxiety and possibly more importantly, takes Heather away from the cliff edge. Veronica doesn’t miss the grateful look Martha shoots JD as she idly rubs Heather’s back.

“Nice save,” Veronica whispers. He pokes her cheek with his liquorice. Without a word, he gently lifts up the daisy crown he made and sets it on her head, his touch so light she can barely feel his fingers in her hair.

“You look pretty,” he says, making her grin. That alone earns him a kiss on the cheek.

Martha walks home with her after school, courtesy of both her parents working late tonight. It’s become such a common occurrence between them that even Martha, who thanks bus drivers twice, has managed to stop thanking Veronica and her parents for letting her stay there. At this point, Martha knows every creak and groan of Veronica’s house as well as she does her own.

“This whole college thing has Heather really shaken up,” she tells her as they walk. “She’s started chewing her nails now.”

“That’s bad?” Veronica looks down at her own nails, two close to non-existent, she’s worn them down so much.

“It is when you’re her. It just hurts, seeing her like this, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Veronica sighs, thinking about JD and his terrified eyes and him curled up unmoving in his bed. “Just makes you feel useless.”

“Exactly!” Martha agrees. “All I want to do is help her. But I don’t know how.” Despite the seriousness she feels, Veronica can’t help smiling, one of those proud smiles she hates on her own mom. She hopes to God she’s not turning into her. “What?”

“Nothing,” she squeaks. “Only… you really like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah but you really, really like her,” Veronica points out. Martha’s cheeks turn pink, her smile growing by the second.

“Yeah,” she admits, her eyes soft. She reaches up and plays with the star charm around her neck, the one Heather got her for Valentine’s day. “I just want her to be happy. Like, really happy. Not just happy when we’re cuddling in her bedroom.”

“Trust me,” Veronica says, turning her key in her front door. “That girl is way happier with you than she would be in any college.” Martha blushes again as they step inside, her face the same colour as her sweater.

“Mom, we’re home!” Veronica calls, heading to the kitchen and tossing Martha a Twix before grabbing one for herself. Her mom’s footsteps can be heard from the top of the stairs and she appears in the kitchen in no time at all, beaming more at Martha than at her.

“Martha, it’s so nice to see you,” she says, as if she doesn’t see her at least twice a month.

“You too, Aunt Ella,” she says.

“We’re going to go do homework upstairs,” Veronica says, even though she’s leaning against the counter and grabbing two mugs and flicking on the kettle, rather than grabbing Martha by the arm and pulling her upstairs before her mom can say anything else. Which is what she had done with the Heathers and only just stopped doing with JD. But being self-conscious in front of Martha would be like being shocked that you failed a test you didn’t study for.

“Oh, Ronnie some mail came for you while you were at school,” her mom says, gesturing to the two brown envelopes on the kitchen table.

The word ‘mail’ comes with its own siren. And a flashing light. Big, red light that blinds her even from behind her eyelids. She only just manages to save the mugs from being dropped. Martha’s eyes meet hers and she finds the same wide-eyed anxiety reflected back at her.

“Ronnie?” her mom asks. “Everything okay? I didn’t open them. They just seem important.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” she says, pushing her hair away from her face with a shaking hand. “I’ll-I’ll get them thanks.” She crosses over to the table as normally as she can and picks them up.

The seals of Duke and Brown are looking back up at her.

“Are you going to open them?” Martha asks, taking a sip from her mug before putting it on the desk. Veronica sits cross-legged on her bed, forgetting about her nails and biting her knuckles instead. “I can wait in the bathroom if you want.”

“No. I don’t know,” she says, not sure which part of Martha’s question she’s answering. She falls back onto her bed, holding the two envelopes above her. They’re thinner than she thought they’d be. Maybe that’s a good thing. Or not. Maybe they’re thin because all they need to say is “you got in”. But if she got in they’d have sent orientation packs and welcome brochures and a schedule. Or maybe they send them later. Or maybe they’re thin because all they need to say is ‘no’.

“Veronica,” Martha says gently. “I don’t know if you know, but it’s been seventy five seconds and you haven’t moved.” She turns onto her side, Martha half-visible behind the Duke envelope. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sorry,” she sighs, putting them on her table and shaking out her arms. “It’s just… my whole future is in those two envelopes.”

“Whole future?” Martha echoes, pulling her hands over her sleeves. “You really think that?”

“Kind of. A bit. Yeah.” She heaves a sigh, her chest pressing into the mattress. “Completely.” She turns onto her back, holding the letter in slightly-shaking hands. How long would it take to read? A minute? Maybe less. Everything she’s been dreaming about since she set foot in Westerberg high school is in that letter.

“That’s pretty fatalistic,” Martha comments weakly. Veronica hums in agreement, putting the envelopes on her table and sitting back up, facing Martha and her raised eyebrows. “So you’re not opening them?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Hey,” Martha says, coming over to her side and taking her hand. “If you don’t get in… you know it’s not the end of the world, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” she replies. Her mom and even her teachers have said that, in between their lectures about how important getting into a good college is. It’s given her whiplash. She squeezes Martha’s hand tighter. The one thing that’s never changed as she got older, or at least kept changing with her. They used to think they were going to do everything together, go to the same college and work in the same town and marry best friends and their kids would be best friends and they’d live next door to each other. They don’t think that now, of course. They know better. Doesn’t mean she can’t wish they would. Veronica swallows past the lump in her tight throat. “We won’t change right? If-when we go to college?” She squeezes Martha’s hand tighter. “We’ll still be best friends, right?” The question feels stupid, the idea of a world where Martha isn’t her friend alien to her, but it pushed itself out of her, fuelled by a bout of insecurity and the lingering fear of opening the envelope.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asks, a slight laugh in her voice. She turns Veronica around so that she faces her head-on, a determined belief shining in her eyes, the kind that makes Veronica remember how much she loves her. How could she ever have traded that unwavering faith for popularity and parties? “Look, I’m always going to love you. Even when you’re off in North Carolina drinking tea with your professors. Always.” She holds up her hand, little finger stuck out. Shoulders shaking with laughter, Veronica wraps her own baby finger around hers.

“And you can never break a pinky promise,” she says.

“Never.” Martha raises her right hand in a three fingered salute. “Girl Scout’s honour for good measure.” Veronica once again mirrors her friend, their friendship solidified in the two most ironclad agreements known to man. “Now that we’ve cleared that, can you please open that envelope so I can stop waiting? You’re giving me heart palpitations over here.” Nodding and half-laughing, Veronica lifts the two envelopes from her table.

Two letters, two minutes, right?

Dear Miss Veronica Sawyer, she reads, the words just underneath the Dule University Seal. We are pleased to offer you a place in our undergraduate program for law-

“OH MY FREAKING GOD!”

Veronica throws her arms around Martha, sagging against her in a combination of relief and… well, shock. Shock that her dreams are now in her hand-literally, in her hand-and she doesn’t have to keep daydreaming about the smoky cafes and leaving Sherwood, Ohio in the dust.

In the back of her mind, she wonders why she isn’t as happy about that as she expected.

Still, she and Martha fall back onto the bed together, all giggles and flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Every time one calms down, the other is set off, the light, musical sound erupting from both of them until they seem to exhaust themselves and are laying on the backs in a cloud of their own joy. Veronica holds the letter against her chest, panting weakly, and she grabs Martha’s hand with the other.

“Should go without saying,” Martha says breathlessly. “But I’m so proud of you.” She squeezes her hand warmly. “All that studying finally paid off.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, the letter still folded in half and clutched between her hands. She opens it up and smooths out the wrinkles and tries to read it in full, even if her eyes keep snapping back up to the opening sentences. Her brain vaguely registers start dates and dorm rooms and the long proud history of blah blah blah… She can read over all that later. Right now she’s punching the air, drumming her legs on the bed and humming a nonsensical song under her breath, her body squirming like the happiness is going to burst out of her in an explosion of rainbow coloured glitter and cover her walls.

Beside her, Martha lays her head on her cheek on her shoulder. Despite the smile on her face, Veronica feels her stiffen and it brings her right back down to Earth. A cold sensation creeps over her, beginning in her chest, not so much that she panics, but enough to cover up the clouds she was dancing on.

“Hey,” she says, poking Martha’s cheek. “You good?”

“Of course,” she says in false confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because of your face,” she replies, tapping Martha’s nose. “Hey, what is it?” Her hair ruffles as Martha sighs deeply.

“It’s just… now you’ve got yours… it’s making this all real.” She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. “Reminds me how haven’t got mine yet.” She shakes her head, giving a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “I’ll probably get mine soon anyway.”

“And there will be a big fat yes when you do,” Veronica says. She wraps her hand around Martha’s hand and squeezes tightly. “You’ve been in that library more than me.”

“Mainly because you and JD took quite a few breaks.” She wiggles her eyebrows, one word loaded with implication that’s not entirely untrue. At least she’s past the stage where she blushes at those.

“Oh, and your and Heather’s tutoring sessions were strictly schoolwork-only?” she teases. Unlike herself, Martha’s cheeks flush red, her mouth opening and closing. Veronica giggles into her bedsheets. “Trust me. Colleges are going to be tripping over themselves to let you in. And hand you scholarships.”

“Thank you,” she says, smiling softly and rubbing her thumb against Veronica’s hand. “Can we go back to being happy for you?”

“Just a little bit,” she says. “We’ll be fully happy when you get yours.”

And there’s that feeling again, right in the back of her mind. If nothing else, this is a convenient excuse. She’s not as happy as she should be, only because her best friend is still waiting for hers. Nothing else outside of that she tells herself, the acceptance letter still folded between her fingers and poking slightly at her wrist.

*****

When she wakes up the next morning, that feeling is almost forgotten. The letter sits on her bedside table, placed back inside the envelope, the slight rip and crumpled edge the only giveaway that it was ever opened to begin with.

Her parents’ joy is tangible as she enters the kitchen, her mother’s pride buzzing in her fingers as she squeezes Veronica’s shoulders and her father’s delight evident in the way his eyes light up as he hands her her breakfast. As for Veronica, she fights between the growing pride in herself and her own well-worn and familiar modesty, if she can call it that. Still, she lets herself smiles at the praise and embrace the proud, shining gaze of her parents before leaving. Her dad even puts in a pat in her head before she manages to sneak out the door, something she hasn’t felt since she was single digits. She laughs it off, not bothering to fix any damage done to her hair.

As per usual, JD is sitting on the wall in the front yard when she gets to school, one leg up on either side of it and a book in his hands. She comes up behind him in a similar way, her body pressed against him. Months ago he may have jumped, now her touch is so familiar to him that he shifts forwards to make room for her once he feels it. She presses against his back and reaches forwards to trace the outline of the page he’s on.

Truth be told, she’s unexpectedly anxious, a small flame slowly but steadily building in her chest since she spotted him. Behind him, she grabs the butterfly pendant around her neck, the cool metal calming her. It’s weird; they’ve been through more than she thought they would be as a couple. She spent more time than she would care to admit daydreaming about her future romance one day, especially in the first few months of high school. And she knew from TV and from her own life that it wouldn’t be all butterflies and rainbows and sunshine, and thought herself well-prepared for those days, ready for fights and disagreements. She hadn’t prepared herself for the hard talks in the courtyard that she and JD had had, about therapy and his mom and things she had only read in books. But they had them, and she likes to think she came out of them the better person, however difficult and scary they were in the moment.

And yet she is still nervous about this. Something every other half-of-a-couple in her school has had to deal with or will at some point. She can’t tell if she’s more excited to share or more anxious about… well she’s not quite sure. Of something changing, she guesses

“Hey,” she whispers, her cold fingers creating circles in the fabric of his shirt. “So… something happened yesterday.”

“Something?” he repeats, sliding his bookmark in and closing the book. “That’s cryptic.”

“It was… fairly big.” He nods and swings his leg around so he can face her. She feels like the butterfly from her necklace is sitting in her heart and flapping its little wings as hard and fast as it possibly can. And despite the mounting nerves, she’s smiling, and he is too.

“What was it?” he asks.

“JD… I got into college.” Her smile grows over her face like an external force is tugging on the corners of her face. JD’s mouth falls open ad he lets out a delighted gasp. “It was Duke. Duke and Brown, but Duke was my first choice.”

“Ronnie,” he says. “That’s amazing.” He takes her with him as he stands and pulls her into a tight hug, a kiss pressed to the side of her temple. Her legs go weak in his embrace and it’s she melts into him, sighing. Stupidly happy, that’s what she feels right now. Kind of an oxymoron, but hey, a lot of great stories are built on contradiction. “I am so proud of you.” He rubs their noses together playfully. “I knew you’d do it.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m just so glad all this is over. All the stupid waiting around.”

“So a few months from now, can I brag to people that my girlfriend is a super genius who goes to Duke?” he asks as their hands clasp together and start walking into a building.

“Brag to who?” she replies. “You can’t brag to Martha because I already told her, so that only leaves Heather.”

“I can brag to people in the store. And to Claire,” he tells her. “Oh God she’s probably going to be even prouder than I am.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted by that.”

“Hey, I couldn’t be prouder that you if I tried,” he says, punctuating his point with a kiss to her cheekbone. “But Claire has a lot of proud parent energy she can’t always channel into me.” He swings their hands between them as he bits his lip slightly, an idea springing to life in his head. “I’m going to buy you a victory cupcake at lunch.”

“You don’t need to buy me a cupcake,” she sighs.

“It’s not just a cupcake,” he replies. “It’s a victory cupcake.” Veronica rolls her eyes, but the gesture doesn’t go any deeper than her face. This boy is a contradiction himself, the troubled bad boy/poetry lover who buys her cupcakes when she gets into college. “Or donut. Or cookie. Whatever you want and whatever the cafeteria has in stock.”

“If it’s a donut that shit better have sprinkles,” she tells him seriously. He laughs, plugging in his combination and opening his locker. Before he moves to take anything out or put anything in, he moves in and kisses her forehead with just a little more strength than they normally allow in the middle of the hallway. “Be proud of yourself.”

“I am proud,” she says indignantly. “More relieved than proud, but I’m proud.” He nods, taking her hand and walking her to her homeroom, grin never once leaving his face and his fingers moving minutely as he strokes the back of her hand. He rubs his cheek against her hair and tells her about his English essay and when they run into Heather he rather affectionately calls her ‘buttercup’. He and Veronica share a knowing look when Heather mentions that she was hoping to run into Martha earlier, and she groans at a dumb joke he makes,

It’s only when he opens the door that Veronica realises that one day, not too far away, she’ll be missing mornings like this.

******

“Hey, JD?” A flash of yellow appears in his peripheral vision as Heather takes her place next to him at the very back of American history. At her arrival, he places his bookmark in between the pages and slips the book into his bag. Despite this being his second reading of, it’s taking him longer to get through it this time around. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” he says, only for Heather’s face to fall slightly. She’s almost constantly smiling, must be a cheerleader thing, but the way it falls and rises like a puppy’s ears is almost a clearer indication of her feelings than when she isn’t. “What’s up?”

“I just… how are you and Veronica going to do college?”

His first thought is that the question is way too deep for first period. He’s all for a good discussion (especially when it comes to his relationship, since it turns out the only things keeping him from rambling out his thoughts to Claire are self-preservation, a small shred of dignity and some compassion for her) but the question Heather posed is a little too much too soon. And if he’s honest...

“I… we haven’t talk about it,” he decides is the right way to put it. It’s not incorrect and is certainly much better than ‘well I don’t know, we never really thought about it’.

Except now he is.

Thanks, Heather, he thinks.

“Oh…” she says. “Sorry, I was just asking because… see me and Martha don’t know what we’re going to do when she goes away to college and I go wherever I go.”

“Still not convinced you’re getting in?” She shakes her head, lips rolled into a tight line. Despite the B+ quiz tucked in the back of her folder. “I wouldn’t count you out yet, Mac.”

“Thanks. I just want to be ready for whatever,” she says with feigned nonchalance. “And you’re not planning on going anywhere, right?”

“Right,” he says, even if the word feels clumsy and uncomfortable in his mouth. It’s more of a habitual answer than a truthful one.

“Do-do you ever worry about the long distance stuff?” Heather asks him. “I mean, I don’t really worry. I just think about it a lot sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I-I guess not. I didn’t really-” He bites his lip, drumming his fingers on the table. He didn’t really think he’d be around post-graduation. That’s what he means. He never expected any of this to last, Claire, Sherwood, Veronica, anything. He assumed he’d be sent off to another placement after his time here was up. This degree of certainty is alien to him, however much it might mean to him. This is the adjustment period. Still, he won’t say that. Too deep for this hour, and, much as he likes her, for Heather. So he shrugs his shoulders instead. “I didn’t really think about it before now.”

“Oh,” Heather says, disappointment evident. She tugs on the sleeve of her jacket as she looks away from him. Rows in front of them her old friends sit on their desks, heads clustered together in conversation.

“I hope we can do it though,” he adds, grabbing her attention again. “The long distance thing. I want to do it. I think we can.” It’s not an empty thought. He’s grown used to communicating by letters and long distance phone calls or even emails, even if it’s just correspondence with old foster siblings or his social workers. He grins to himself as it grows clearer in his mind, the two of them on opposite sides of a phone, drinking in the details of each other’s day, her in a college sweater and him in his pyjamas back in his room.

“You do?” she asks, the corners of her own mouth turning up.

“Of course I do,” he replies.

“Me too,” she says. “Not with Veronica. With Martha. But I still want to do like… long distance friendships too. With you too.” He huffs out a laugh but understands. For the first time, the crap teachers have spewed at every school he’s been to about ‘you’ll miss it when you’re gone’ resonate with him. Even if it’s just about three people. But he’s also grown used to missing people and that’s definitely a habit he wants to break.

*****

The new outside activities aren’t just confined to lunch. The sunshine and dry ground means the after school cheerleading practice is moved outside too. According to her girlfriend, Coach thinks that the jocks, practicing just across the field, will be the happiest kids in the state right about now. And while they certainly do seem to appreciate it, Martha suspects she might just take that title. How can she not be, sitting on in the bleachers with a book in her hands and the sun on her face while she waits for Heather to finish, and sneaking glances at her every now and then, watching her flip perfectly and kick her legs in that little skirt and her golden curls being lit up by the sun and flying behind her like a flag.

Sometimes she’s amazed that she never noticed Heather in that way before.

The girl in question bounds up to her almost the minute the Coach dismisses them, resting her chin on her shoulder, the rest of the student body too wrapped up in each other to notice how Martha’s hand wraps around hers.

“You did great today,” she tells her.

“You think so?” she asks.

“Definitely.” Heather grins and takes a look out over the emptying sports field. Martha used to hate this place and part of her still does, the ghosts of ‘Dumptruck’ echoing in her mind from when she ran laps around the field. But now she can tune those out, even if it takes some effort sometimes, as long as she’s with the right people. Two people to be exact and one of them is lazily rubbing her back.

“Coach likes you,” Heather says. “She likes when you come down to watch practice.”

“She said that?” Martha asks sceptically.

“Yeah,” she says. “Well, no. Well, sort of. She said she likes when people watch us. And she thinks you’re sweet for supporting me.”

“So she knows I’m watching?” she asks. “Guess I’m not as subtle as I thought.” She turns to face her, half-laughing. “Well, I’ll always support my special friend.” They chuckle together; ‘special friends’ is apparently what Heather’s mom refers to gay couples as, and they’ve since turned it into both a cover story and a private joke. The first word, at least, Martha would definitely apply to Heather.

Heather heaves a sigh next to her, the motion on her back drifting away from nonchalant and towards anxious.

“Are you okay?” she asks, running her thumb over her knuckles. She nods quickly, her hair bobbing with her, and it indicates the opposite of what it intends. Still, Martha doesn’t press, instead she presses a quick kiss to her head, thankful the field is deserted, and traces circles on the back of her hand, changing direction every once in a while as Heather’s breathing evens out beside her. Just as she begins to maybe pry a little, it’s Heather who opens her mouth, and what she says nearly knocks her off the bleachers.

“Are we going to do the whole long distance thing?”

“Long distance thing?”

“When you go off to college,” she explains. “And I go… somewhere. Is that what we’re going to do or should we break up before college?” She winces at the last part. “I-that’s what my cousin did with her high school boyfriend.”

“Is that what you want?” she asks tentatively. Insecurity comes to her like an old friend, a friend she no longer wants around, but whose presence is so familiar she’s already listening to it.

“Oh my God, no!” Heather gasps, eyes going wide. She grasps Martha’s shoulders, tension burning in her fingers. “No I do not want to break up before college. Or after college!”

“O… Okay,” she sighs, a little relieved and a little startled. “Then we won’t. Break up I mean.”

“Really?” she squeaks, biting her lip as a smile takes over her face. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” she promises. “I mean, if you want to, I want to.”

“I do,” she replies firmly. “I really, really do.”

“Okay.” Grinning, Heather nuzzles into her shoulder as they look out on the expanse of grass and track in front of them, leading out to the doll-sized houses and stores beyond. Up this high, they’re not just students, they’re giants. Heather’s hand slides into hers and she gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I wonder what would have happened if we’d figured this… us out before now,” Heather remarks.

“Yeah,” she agrees a little sadly. She tries not to dwell on wishes too much anymore, but if she did have a fairy godmother who could grant them, she’d ask for more time with Heather. More time being herself, this version of herself. Maybe if she had known a year ago, maybe if Heather had been different a year ago. Who knows where they’d be now?

They only go inside when the parking lot starts emptying, knowing someone was coming soon enough to lock the gate. While the prospect of having Heather all to herself with a view like this and all this space isn’t unappealing, the heart attack she’d give her mother and the explanations she’d eventually have to give do. They end up sitting on the front steps, not quite the same feeling as being on top of the bleachers. Up there everything looks perfect, picturesque emerald grass and the town looks painted in. Here she can see the trash blowing around in the gentle breeze and knows the graffiti that’s scrawled just around the corner. It’s too real.

Still, Heather is stroking her hair as they talk nonsense and that’s more than enough to make this place work for her.

Her hand brushes against Martha’s just as the door opens and then it drop like a stone in a lake. Two people clad in heels come down the stairs, slowing down as they pass them, the red and the green coming into their vision.

“Heather,” Duke greets coldly. Moments pass without so much as an acknowledgement of Martha. It’s fair, she supposes. All else aside, they were friends, which isn’t a claim Martha has. Not since kindergarten anyway.

“Heather,” she replies, her voice so steady that Martha’s not sure the trembling hand on her leg could belong to the same body.

Behind Duke, Chandler looks down, her arms crossed over her chest. From the neck down, she’s every inch the iron queen of their school, clad in her red blazer, her shadow falling over them and the red scrunchie peeking on her wrist. However, her face is a carefully constructed snarl that’s nearly convincing… except for the way she bites her cheek and how her eyes jump from Heather to Martha to the ground. And how her mouth seems to be on the verge of opening, only to be sealed up again at the last moment. Despite having gone to school with her every day for thirteen years, she doesn’t look familiar at all. Despite her height, despite the way she looms over the two of them, she looks small.

“Come on,” Chandler says, shaking Duke’s shoulder a little. Up until now, Duke’s face had been the opposite of Chandler’s, a hardened mask fixed in one slightly annoyed grimace that’s a staple of their school life at this point. But at Chandler’s command, the cracks appear and she looks as foreign as Heather Chandler did. She obeys and follows at Chandler’s heels down the steps, but not before stalling for a moment, eyes landing on her Heather. Ten years seems to disappear from her for that one moment, and suddenly she’s Heather who clutched a Barbie doll and inched closer to Martha to ask to play.

“Hey,” Chandler snaps, waiting for Duke at the bottom of the steps. “Let’s go. They’re not worth it.”

“Agreed,” Duke replies and she quickens her pace to meet her, neither one of them looking back.

Heather’s looking after them though, her hand fidgeting in her lap. There’s a wistfulness in her gaze that Martha’s making a conscious effort not to be jealous of. Instead she reaches out and takes her restless hand in hers, pulling her back from wherever she is.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks quietly, before she can lose nerve.

“Sure.”

“Do you… do you ever miss them?” she asks, nodding in the direction of their disappearing classmates. Heather blinks, a little unsettled by her question, but despite the apologetic look she gives her, Martha can’t really bring herself to regret asking it. Even if she wishes she’d maybe saved it for later.

“I… don’t know,” she says after a while. “I mean I was friends with them for a really long time. Maybe not friends, okay no. See, I don’t really know.”

“It’s okay,” she says, running her hand through her hair. “I get it. It’s complicated.”

“I think… I don’t like the Heather I was with them,” she admits, turning to Martha. The setting sun bathes her in a delicate golden glow, but even without it, she’d still glow in her own right. Especially now with the way her eyes shine with sincerity and the smile that says so much despite being so small. She cups Martha’s cheek with her hand, her fingertips just meeting her hair. “I like the Heather I am with you. And Veronica. Even JD. That’s what I know.”

Martha hugs Heather tightly, guiding her head to the crook of her neck and squeezing her shoulders carefully. She could tell her that she feels the same, that she knows Heather made her better, that she’s braver and wiser because of her love. She could do that, and she will, one day, hopefully soon. But she doesn’t need to now and it’s beautiful. Now, all she needs and wants to do is hold her girlfriend and silently agree with her; she really likes this Heather.

*****

On Friday evening, Veronica is curled in the biggest chair in the living room, hands gripping the wides and legs poised to jump out. Her body twitches involuntarily each time a car that is even remotely close to silver comes into view, only for them to pass by without a glance. Taking advantage of the good weather, longer days and break in the school work, she and JD plan to take a walk around the park to let off steam.

“What’s this thing he had after school?” her mom asks.

“Just a doctor’s appointment,” she replies, crossing her fingers behind her back. She’s not ashamed, not of anything about him, but it’s also not her story to tell and she notices how he stiffens when Heather or Martha ask what he has planned the occasional Friday. She taps her knuckles against the change in her jacket pocket, she and JD intending to hit the small candy store on the corner before the park.

Another silver car comes around the corner and she slowly unfolds herself as it steadily drives down the road before bursting into a relieved grin when it stop outside her house, the passenger door opening.

“Okay I’m out!” she announces, swinging around the living room door.

“Are you sure he doesn’t want to come in for a minute?” her mom asks, following her out of the living room and leaning against the wall. “I’m making a pot roast.”

“Yep, we’re good,” she replies hastily, opening the front door. Down at the car, JD is probably having a similar conversation, only with far less withheld smothering. The sight of him talking to her so easily makes her slow down a little, a prickle of guilt in her chest, small, but present. She turns around and gives her own mom a smile. “Thanks Mom, but we just want to get out for a bit. I won’t be late, see you later.”

“Okay.” Her mom’s shoulders relax and she nods, smiling back at her. “Have fun, honey.”

Even though she saw him mere hours ago, she gives JD a light hug just as Claire is pulling out away from the kerb, and he responds in kind, adding in a kiss to her hair. She didn’t quite miss him, they’re not like that, but they’re far more free outside school, even with their moderate disregard for the PDA rules.

“Come on,” she says, lacing her fingers through his and pulling him along, making him laugh softly. His lose curls fall forwards over his forehead and dance in the light breeze. He twirls her around under his arm and pulls her closer to wrap his arm around her as they head to the store.

With candy in hand and miniature soda bottles in pockets, they stroll through the park together, Veronica’s arm linking through his and her cheek resting on his shoulder. While the park isn’t quite as full as it would be in the height of summer, they are fairly far from alone too, small kids running past them or wobbling on bikes with parents chasing after them, panic in their eyes despite their fond smiles. The pond glitters golden in the setting sun, families of ducks and ducklings splashing and flapping and creating ripples on the otherwise still water.

They find a spot on a grassy slope where they can looking over everything with the sun at their backs. Ever the gentleman, he even spreads his jacket out for her to sit on. They sit hip to hip, their little candy stash poised carefully between them and their drinks, lemonade for her, cherry Coke for him, cooling their legs.

She leans back on her elbows to stretch out her back tilts her head back, eyes closed, letting the sun warm her face. JD spies an opportunity and sneaks in, dropping a kiss on her lips without warning, not that he would need one, and sneaks an apple flavoured lace from her.

“Jerk,” she says with feigned annoyance, even if she’s giggling. “You owe me.”

“M&M or chocolate?” he asks.

“M&M.” She pulls herself forwards and kneels up to find him on one knee, green candy between his thumb and index finger and face screwed up in concentration. “You will not get that.”

“Want to bet?” he teases. “I bet you a cheek smooch that I can get this in your mouth on the first try.”

“Deal,” she agrees, rolling her eyes. She opens her mouth, only to let out an annoyed squeak when he moves over and lowers her head. “Cheat.”

“I’m making it more fair. Now come on, stay still.”

The candy bounces off her cheekbone and rolls across the grass, the impact just a step above nothing. Still, she laughs, falling back onto the grass and looking at him

“Pay up,” she sings.

“With pleasure,” he says dropping a swift kiss to her cheek. Giggling smugly, she lets him pull her up into a sit, her fingers stroking the inside of his arm, their foreheads close to touching. There’s a warm, slightly breathless feeling in her chest, one that she’s grown slightly used to and would like to get more used to. Butterflies, maybe, but they’re calm now. Like they’re flapping their little wings slowly and serenely in her chest. Breathless, but the good kind.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he begins, looking down at his hands. She looks at him, listening and expectant, but his voice just trails off.

“You going to tell me what you were thinking of?” she asks, hoping to bring him back on track. “Or am I just going to have to guess.”

“Sorry,” he says, laughing a little. “Just… still thinking about it, I guess.” She runs her hand down his arm and takes his, lacing their fingers together.

“Want to let me in?” He nods, dimples forming in his cheeks as he grins. His free hand taps on his knee, his fingers moving in an agitated rhythm.

“It’s a little crazy.”

“I’m all for crazy,” she tells him.

“But… you know how I always said I don’t want to go to college? How I don’t see the point in it and all that crap?” She nods and he takes a deep breath in, his eyes lighting up as they meet her. His excitement passes from him to her as she slowly starts to see where he’s going. “Well, just you and your getting in and Martha and Heather, it all got me thinking… what if I actually went? Not this year, I mean I can’t, but next year. Do some volunteering and maybe retake a test or two and start applications and give it a real try.” He bites his lip sheepishly. “Is that dumb?”

“Dumb?” she echoes. “J, that’d be amazing!”

“Really?”

“Really!” she squeaks.

“I was thinking about majoring in English,” he explains, kneeling up, one hand gesturing wildly and the other holding onto her with a tight grip, his hand shaking a little, like his blood is buzzing. The words flow out of him one after the other with no break, almost leaving him panting. “You know? I mean, I’m good at it, according to all my assignments. I don’t think I want to be a writer or anything like that and definitely not a teacher, but maybe like a Professor or something. Or an editor.”

“You’d be amazing at that,” she tells him, cupping the side of his face. She touches her forehead to his, nuzzling into him, his shoulders shaking under him as he laughs. “When did you figure all this out?”

“Well…” He scratches behind his ear. “I sort of… I guess I always knew I wanted it. To go study poetry somewhere. But I never thought I could. I never thought I’d have some sort of permanent place with someone to get me through it.” He sighs, his eyes shining. “But now I do.”

Claire Veronica thinks. The woman who isn’t his mother but is the next best thing. He told her the next day at school with wide, slightly red eyes and an expression that was half-joy, half-disbelief, like he was expecting to wake up from this. All she could do was hug him as tight as she knew how to and tell him how happy she was for him, even if she could never understand how huge this is. And that’s okay with her. All she needs to know is that this means pretty much everything to him.

Veronica doesn’t really like thinking about what would have happened if she hadn’t adopted him, and he doesn’t like talking about it, so it had worked out well. Losing him once was bad enough, and that was when she was a kid and only loved him half as much as she does now. Now all she can do is be grateful she never has to think about that again. And be glad that he has someone forever now.

She leans in and kisses him, tasting cherry Coke and sugar on his lip, his joy infectious and making her dizzy. He pecks at her lips playfully until she tilts her head and slides her hand into his hair, murmuring contended nothings against him.

“Hey, Ronnie?” he asks.

“Mm-hm?”

“About college…” The initial bliss fades a little, not enough to disappear completely, but she feels the change in the air. She delicate touches the dimple on his cheek with her fingertip. “I just… are we going to do that long distance thing?”

“Long distance?” she echoes.

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean… you’re going to be in North Carolina, and much as I’d like to I doubt the Dean would let me come with you. I know some high school couples break up before college, but I don’t-I want to do it long distance. I think we can.” He shrugs, his eyes meeting hers with an unfamiliar insecurity in them. “I’m up for it if you are.”

She shakes her head at him, huffing out a laugh and pushes his hair away from his face, looking right into his eyes and making him do the same. Truthfully, she had thought about them post-high school, and she had worried up until a few days ago, when Martha calmed her fears about them. Now she just looks back in embarrassment, as if she’d ever let 600 miles shake the two things she loves most.

“Jason Dean,” she sighs, enjoying the taste of his name, his real name, on her lips. “I could go to college in Mars and still want to be with you.” His cheek shifts against her hand as he breaks out into a grin. “So yes, dumbass. I want to do the long distance thing with you. I always thought I would. Even if it means staying up to 2am to talk to you and racking up Claire’s phone bill beyond all recognition.”

“You might want to talk to her about that,” he whispers, laughter lacing the edges of his voice. He pulls her into another kiss, longer and deeper than the last one, occasionally interrupted by their contented chuckling. They fall back onto the ground, the soft grass tickling their faces, their hands clasped between them. JD looks at her, his mouth half open and his eyes bright. He pushes her hair back and traces her jaw, his thumb poking at her cheek.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he tells her quietly, his voice shaking a little. She presses a kitten-like kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“First or second time?” she teases.

Grinning, he takes her clasped hand and brings to her fingers to his lips to kiss it. A warm current sweeps through her body and her hands tingle, reminding her of the fairies weaving magic in her old picture books. Like there’s magic in his touch that can make her glimmer and shine.

“First,” he replies with more certainty in his voice than she’s ever heard before.

#heathers the musical #heathers fanfic #jdronica #pure au jdronica #veronica sawyer #jason dean #fic: not beyond repair #this was one of the hardest chapters to write and idk why #i proofread this twice #anyway everyone's favourite soft girls (marthaxmac) have returned pls enjoy

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jjk-emotrash · 5 years ago

Text

Blood and Gasoline - Chapter 11

Type: Mafia!AU

Group/s: Mainly BTS, Got7, Blackpink

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (OC), Jikook x Reader (OC)

Safety: NSFW

Warnings (Whole Fic): Swearing, Violence, Prostitution, Misogyny/Anti-Feminist Views, Torture, Smut, Non-Con/Rape, Death, SOME Fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Masterlist

As she left the house, Y/N made sure to grab her purse and phone. After calling a taxi into town, the first place she visited was the club, but she found nobody there. The building was deadly silent and eerie, the top of the bar in need of a dusting and empty glasses left on the tables around the perimeter of the room. Getting out of the club as fast as she could to continue her search, Y/N wandered around the town and looked in the windows of all the bars and diners in town to see if she could see the two men.

Eventually, after an hour of searching she found the pair sat in an old seedy looking bar in the outskirts of town. Just entering the building put Y/N on edge, but she persisted and walked in. The bar smelled damp, smoke and alcohol mixing in with the thick scent of the building. A group of middle-aged men sat near the door smoking and playing poker; one of the men, who was built like brick wall, eyed Y/N up and down with a sickening smirk. The walls were wood lined with paint peeling off and the floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she took in her surroundings, anxiety rising in her chest.

“You alright love? You look a bit lost.” Asked a man with a thick accent, dressed in a yellowing shirt and grey trousers with braces hanging from his hips, stopping her in her tracks.

“Yeah, I’m just looking for two people…” Y/N answered anxiously, slowly edging away from the man.

“Well I’m the manager and bartender of the joint, what do they look like I might have served them?” he spoke and sat on the edge of an unsteady looking table.

“It’s actually those two over there, sat by the bar.” Y/N replied and pointed at her friends, slump.

“Ah, they showed up at about two this morning,” the man scoffed and stood to walk away, letting her go to the boys, “I would’ve kicked ‘em out but they kept paying for drinks an’ I can’t afford to refuse service right now.”

Y/N started walking over to the two men when the group that was sat by the door suddenly blocked her path, circling her. She kindly asked them to let her through, but they wouldn’t budge; she asked again, more firmly this time, but still they wouldn’t move.

“Please, I’ve asked you twice already. Let me through.” Y/N persisted, starting to become more anxious by the second.

“Why should we? Personally, I think you should come with us, beautiful.” One man with shaggy brown hair and a deep voice answered and proceeded to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Don’t touch me.” She protested and fought back. His other hand slipped around her back and slapped her ass. Wiggling out of his grip and trying to remember everything Jackson had taught her about fighting, “Let me go!”. To the huddle of men’s shock, Y/N landed a swift kick to her harasser’s temple. Making the rest of the group jump away from her.

“What the fuck?! You bitch!” with his head and ego bruised, the man lunged for her but was suddenly held back.

“I believe the lady asked you not to touch her.” An all too familiar voice sounded in Y/N’s ears. Jimin. She could see that the man in her friends grasp stiffened at the sound of his voice, fear flooding his eyes.

“If I were you, I’d back off before she kicks you again.” Jungkook added clapping the offender on the shoulder. “Wouldn't you agree lads?” He asked the other men with a smirk. It seemed that the group of men were eerily familiar with the pair as they immediately backed away and left the bar.

“Apologise.” Jimin said to the man, whipping his gun out of his pocket and pressing it to his back and he quickly obeyed, looking to Y/N for help.

“I’m sorry, honestly I am, please just tell them to let me go.”

Taking the opportunity to scare the man more, actually starting to enjoy herself, she did something that made the man gulp. “Hmmm, I'm not sure I forgive you.” She said walking closer to the restrained man, “What do you think Jimin, Jungkook - does he really deserve forgiveness?”

“We should kill him for even laying a single finger on you Y/N.” Jimin growled and almost reduced the man to tears in fear. “But I think he's learned his lesson not to touch a woman without her consent. Haven't you?”

The man quickly nodded and pleaded for forgiveness, practically sobbing that he wouldn't ever do it again. The once intimidating figure was now a trembling mess before her.

She leaned in close before whispering her forgiveness, then fisted her hand in the front of his shirt and stepping closer, “But I swear, if you ever lay a much as a finger on another unwilling person, I will become your personal poltergeist.” Y/N hissed at the man earning a smirk from the boys. The man nodded and whispered one final word to him, “Run.”

The man fled the bar immediately after, leaving Y/N alone with Jimin and Jungkook.

“Hey…” Y/N said shyly, unsure of what to say after the scene she had caused.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked gruffly, his voice thick and stinking of whiskey.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Y/N replied and crinkled her nose at the overwhelming stench of whiskey washing over the pair that she hadn't noticed before “It’s barely three in the afternoon, you both stink.”

Now they were alone in the bar, she had the chance to fully take in their appearances. The pair graced matching dark circles and messy hair, suit jackets off, shirts untucked and ties loose. Rough, would be an understatement.

“I’d much rather be here than at the mansion and have to see you and Yoongi fawning over one another.” Jimin answered bitterly, his eyes turning dark – the previous protectiveness in his eyes fading.

“Well you don’t have to worry about that. It seems like he only wanted to have sex with me to piss the two of you off. He never actually wanted me for me, at least I think he did. He treated me like another conquest instead of a person in front of the boys when we went downstairs this morning. I should've known better than to trust him like that. It was a mistake.” Y/N answered. The words lifting a weight off her chest as she realised that she had been manipulated.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Jungkook muttered angrily as Jimin clenched his jaw, silently fuming.

“Guys calm down. He didn’t force me into it, you don’t need to go in guns blazing.” Y/N pushed the boys back with a palm on each of their chests, stopping them in their tracks of heading out of the bar. “It’s not going to happen again. And I’m going to tell him as much when we get back. Just please, come home. I was worried about you when I went downstairs, and you were nowhere to be found...”

Jimin sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair to calm himself then placed the other hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry that we made you worried Y/N, but you have to understand how horrible it was for us to hear you two going at it last night.” His voice broke slightly, and his voice lowered to a whisper “You do know my room is directly below his?”

“I…didn’t know that at all, Jimin…” Y/N gulped and looked down at her feet in shame.

“Hey?” Jimin said softly and lifted her head back up with two fingers, he hated seeing her upset in any form. “It’s not your fault, I’m just jealous that it wasn’t me.”

“Amen to that,” Jungkook added with a snort and circled his arm around her waist. “Well at least we know what she’s into now.” He joked with a smirk earning himself a laugh from Jimin and a light slap to the chest from Y/N.

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me out with those guys.” Y/N smiled at the two boys, happy everything was somewhat normal again.

“You don't need to thank us honey, besides you were doing pretty well on your own. That was a damn good kick.” Jungkook replied making Y/N grin with pride. Jimin then cleared his throat and straightened himself out before extending a hand towards Y/N. She took it with a giggle.

“Our dearest Y/N,” Jimin started in a fake ‘posh’ tone, “would you do us the honour of allowing us to treat you to dinner tonight?”

“Charming as always, Jimin...” Y/N giggled making the man smirk, before replying to his request in a similar tone, “I would be delighted to spend the evening dining with the pair of you.”

“M’lady,” Jungkook offered his arm for Y/N to take. The pair escorted her out of the bar then payed for the taxi ride back to the mansion.

The second they stepped through the door, the trio were bombarded with questions. The two men just laughed at the group’s excitable nature, Y/N on the other hand started to back away and bumped into the two men’s chests behind her. Jimin immediately placed a protective hand on her waist and Jungkook kissed the crown of her head gently making the men surrounding them back off a little, but the group completely dispersed when the gruff voice of Min Yoongi sounded from behind the group.

“What a touching display of affection, now hands off her.” Yoongi strode through the group with a deadly calm face.

“No,” Jungkook replied instantly, “you don’t get to decide who wants to be with. That’s up to Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N darling, who is it that you want to spend the evening with?” Yoongi stroked her cheek gently, making her eyes flutter closed at the soft gesture. But she quickly snapped out of it, remembering how he manipulated her into making the men flanking her jealous.

“I’m spending the evening with Jimin and Jungkook, Sir. And nothing you say, or do, will make me change my mind.” Y/N told him in a sickly sweet voice that made Yoongi growl in anger slightly, before addressing the rest of the gang “Now if you’ll all excuse me I’m going to go have a bath. If any of you interrupt me in the next few hours, I will not hesitate to punch you in the gut. Are we clear?” She heard both Jimin and Jungkook snicker behind her as the group of men facing her nodded slowly in surprise and slight fear – Yoongi could only glare. Y/N then turned to the two men behind her. “I’ll be ready for 7:30, meet me back here then?”

“Your wish is our command,” Jimin said with a smirk and leaned in to kiss her cheek softly before whispering, “Enjoy your bath princess.”

Jimin walked away with Jungkook in tow, the younger winking at Y/N as he non-too-subtly brushed past. The rest of the gang walked away in bewilderment, Namjoon blinking in shock at the scene he had witnessed. When he met Y/N’s eye, he blushed furiously and looked away before he too disappeared into the house. Only Y/N and Yoongi were left standing in the foyer. Y/N nodded at him curtly and started to walk away.

“What changed?” Yoongi suddenly asked, stopping Y/N in her tracks. With a sigh she turned to face him.

“Why did you fuck me knowing full-well that Jimin and Jungkook liked me, and that their bedrooms are directly beneath ours? You knew they would hear us Yoongi! You knew that it would drive them crazy and that they’d leave.” Y/N exploded, all of her thoughts and feeling on full display. There was no going back now.

He replied, his eyes becoming softer as he saw just how much his actions hurt her. “I wasn’t thinking properly, and I know that it’s no excuse, I just wanted to show them that you were mine - because I want you to be mine Y/N. And only mine, no one else’s. I’m selfish, I’ll admit that, and what I did was wrong and I’m sorry that I ended up hurting you in the process, that was never my intention.”

“But you don’t mind hurting your brothers? Yoongi that’s fucked up. I really did like you, honestly I think I still do. But I’m not sure that I want to be with you if that’s how you’re going to behave.” Y/N said, defeated. He reached out for her, but she just shook her head with a sigh and looked away.

“Good luck with your date with the boys tonight. As much as I hope it was me taking you out on the town tonight, I want you to be happy here. And if they make you happy, then so be it.” Yoongi said stiffly, trying to stay calm. Y/N knew that he was struggling here so gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” She smiled softly at him before turning on her heel and heading upstairs to start getting ready. When Y/N entered her bedroom, she threw herself down face first on the bed and hugged her pillow, thinking about what she should do. Her head was reeling with all the thoughts running wild. Perking up, she decided to call Lisa to help her get ready, and to talk everything over.

“Lisa? Can you come round, I need your help.” Y/n asked as soon as the red-head answered the phone.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Lisa arrived nine minutes later, and immediately ran upstairs to Y/N’s bedroom and burst through the door. Y/N engulfed her friend in a tight hug.

“Are you okay? That call had me worried…” Lisa mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N nodded and pulled away to look Lisa in the eye.

“Me and Yoongi had sex.” Y/N stated bluntly, getting straight to the point.

“What?!” Lisa exclaimed and gripped onto Y/N’s shoulders. “Okay back, tell me everything.”

“Okay first of all ow, your claws are hurting my biceps.” Y/N said with a smile making Lisa giggle and release Y/N from her vice grip. “Secondly, I errm…yeah we fucked.” Y/n walked over to the bed and laid down. “I made a mistake, he only fucked me to make Jimin and Jungkook pissed cause their bedrooms are beneath ours and they could hear everything, and they basically ran away to a dingy bar and got hammered when they could hear us fucking above them. When I found them, they had sobered up a bit but still stunk of whiskey. Anyway, they asked me out on a kind of date tonight and now Yoongi’s pissed at them but wants me to be happy and I’m so fucking confused.”

“Damn, girl.” Lisa laid on her side next to Y/n and stroked her hair gently. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Well I’m going on the date. But what should I do if they take things further?” Y/N turned to face Lisa only to see Lisa smirking.

“Honey, if you get the chance to have a ménage à trois with Jimin and Jungkook – fucking take it. If only so you can tell me what they’re like in bed.”

“Oh my god Lisa!” Y/N laughed and rolled back onto her back. “Won’t that make me kind of a hoe, you know three guys in 24 hours?”

“Oh it’d make you a complete hoe, but what’s wrong with that? If guys can get away with fucking around so can we. We deserve to have some fun too. Trust me, if I was in your position I’d pounce on them the second we got in the-” Lisa was cut off by Y/n’s hand covering her mouth with a smile.

“I get it!” Y/N laughed Lisa licked her hand slightly with a wink making Y/N pull her hand away instantly, “For fucks sake, Lisa!”

Feeling playful and wanting cheer Y/N up more, Lisa rolled over to straddle Y/n and kissed Y/n fully on the mouth. Y/N squeaked and pinched Lisa’s thigh gently. Lisa pulled away with her tongue between her teeth and a twinkle in her eye. Y/N giggled and rolled them over so Lisa was underneath Y/n and started to tickle her abdomen.

“Shit! Y/N stop!” Lisa spluttered out through loud laughs and managed to pull Y/N off her. Unfortunately, they didn’t see how close they were to the end of the bed and they both crashed to the floor in a fit of hysterics, limbs tangled together. Y/N kissed Lisa on the nose making her giggle and scrunch up her face cutely.

“You know, if things don’t work out with the guys maybe we should give it a shot.” Y/N mused, half-jokingly with a small giggle.

Lisa giggled as well and kissed Y/N once more on the lips, pulling Y/N closer with a manicured hand on the nape of her neck. The girls had kissed before at the club when tipsy and had fooled around on multiple nights when Jisoo and Jennie went out on a date, so this was almost normal for the two close friends. Over time they had become almost like friends with benefits – no strings attached. They detached with giggles and rose to their feet.

“I’m gonna go take a bath,” Y/N asked with a grin, “wanna choose me something to wear?”

Y/N bathed peacefully as she hummed absentmindedly, thinking of all the many things Jungkook and Jimin could have planned for her. Meanwhile, Lisa carefully studied her friends wardrobe for a dress before settling on a simple but sexy little black dress and some red heels to match the lipstick she had chosen. Once Y/N was dried and dressed, makeup applied and hair parser styled, a flurry of butterflies erupted in the pit of her stomach.

"Lisa? Am I mad for doing this?" Y/N asked as she put her phone in a black and gold accented clutch.

"No of course not. What makes you ask that?" Lisa bewilderedly replied from her spot on the bed.

"I don't know...I just, even though Yoongi hurt me I don't want to upset him...and going on this date might just jeopardise whatever it was we had."

"It won't." The answering voice didn't belong to that of her best friend, but of the man in question. Turning on her heel, Y/N saw Yoongi stood in the doorframe.

"I'll leave you two be." Lisa said as Y/N and Yoongi locked eyes, giving her friends hands a squeeze before exciting the room.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." The compliment left his lips softly, barely audible. "May I enter?"

"You may."

He sits on the bed and reveals and black velvet box from behind his back. "I got you something."

"You can't buy me back with jewellery."

"I'm not trying to." his eyes are soft as he gazes at the woman in front of him and reaches out for her to take a seat next to him on the bed. She concedes. He opens the box to reveal a diamond choker, taking her breath away. "I had this picked out ready for your birthday but I thought that now is a good a time as any other. Especially after my previous actions."

"I...I can't accept this..." Y/N manages to treat her eyes away from the stunning choker to look at him.

"Yes, you can. What I told you last night and this morning remains to be true. I care deeply for you, all I want is your happiness. If that means you being with Jungkook, or Jimin, or hell even both - I will not stand in your way. All I want right now is your forgiveness. And for you to wear this tonight, a piece as beautiful as this deserves to be worn by someone worthy of its beauty. And you more than qualify."

"Okay," Y/N replies softly with a mood before turning around for him to place it around her neck. Once the clap was sealed, she turned back to face him. A sorrowful look adorned his features, trying and failing to mask it.

"You have two gentlemen waiting for you downstairs, I shouldn't keep you from them any longer." Yoongi says as he stands and makes his way to the shared bathroom to get to his our bedroom.

"Yoongi," Y/N calls as he pauses, "I forgive you." he says nothing, walking through the doorway and closing it behind him.

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