#not people having the nerve and the audacity to call her ugly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoshikoooo · 2 years ago

Text

Scaramouche and Kazuha AS YOUR BROTHER! HC

Kill me romantically~

No, Im seriously worried about your mental health if he was your brother.

Hearing loud thuds at night and a scream of profanity is now normal to you. 'He is obviously losing on his game' . You rolled your eyes and went back to sleep.

Your brother is not much of a sweet type of brother.

Rather an egocentric one.

He obviously doesn’t like it when someone other than him gets to be presumptuous around you. Knowing Scaramouche, Once they get on his nerves, He would obviously do some tricks to lure them out and Beat the heck out of them. also, he wont forget to vent his undying anger on them.

" You assholes! Wasting my time here! And there! If you guys had some sense and didn't pick on her then this wouldn't have happened! "

He said furiously while kicking their stomach.

You obviously know how lunatic Your damn brother is and Knowing that, You still dare to pick fights with him. Go bad bitch, go bad bitch, Go.

On that note, You guys are seriously Fighting 24/7. There wasn't a day wherein the both of you didn't fight. He even called you ugly when you were a newborn baby. The auDaCiTy...

Mother gave up on Easing the fight. Its just not worth her time anymore. Too tired of the same bullsh*t everyday.

Once the both of you are outside, A Beautiful facade is shown. The smile you gave to each other and Giggles while talking on your way to school would make the passerbys think that the both of you were simply having some sweet sibling moments.

When IN FACT. You guys were arguing who gets to play tonights Ps4.

Curses and Inappropriate words were heard from the both of you, although none of the people passing by could hear it because it was so faint.

The fact that both of you were smiling while arguing like mad dogs is insane. I congratulate you.

"Oi, How stupid can you be? Can't you see that it's my turn on the Ps4 LATER?"

His hostile tone is something to make you furrow your eyebrows.

'This crazy small piece of sht.'

You thought as you smiled widely.

"This damn brother of mine is too old to know that It was my turn today. How pitiful it is to be old, Ah~ its okay Being forgetful, But In that age of yours, I think You should worry about your height more."

You said still on your sweet smile while your brother was about to snap, His height was something you shouldn't have mentioned perhaps..?

"Hah? Are you forgetting Your height Y/n? You're smaller than me, How could a bratty little beansprout like you have the right to judge my fucking height?"

His eyes are somewhat turning of a glare, this facade of yours is now breaking. And the walk to school is about to end as You can see the gate from afar.

"Hm? Don't mind my height, Girls are usually shorter anyway, So I clearly DONT.MIND.IT— but dear Brother~ Men have a different standard on heights, I was simply bringing it up and I didn't think it would hurt you this much, huhu~ My apologies. "

You said clearly in a sarcastic tone, Making you run your way up to the school when you noticed he stopped walking.

'Crap.. gotta run fast'

You said to yourself as you ran at full speed, Only to look back to see your dear brother running after you with a glare, Making You try to run faster.

"Hah?! Oi! You dipshit! Get back here!"

You heard him scream furiously, Making you look back and laugh awkwardly.

" haha...Brother, Who in the world is an idiot that would Stop running if you're holding a fucking knife??"

You

A Gentle guy here.

He's definitely the best brother. Literally.

Calm and Cool unlike the other one up there.

He loves to sing, Making your day always twice the better.

Not to mention, he can also play the guitar and other instruments.

Everyday is a day full of melody whenever you're with him.

He sometimes would recite poems and haiku out of nowhere, Making you stuck on it for hours till you finally get what it means.

Embracing nature is his favorite. He would often ask you if You want to come with him to visit a park nearby.

He is so elegant to the point wherein You sometimes question yourself If you are both really siblings.

His soft side is one thing, But You did once saw his bad side when a person tried to do something malicious towards you. You heard how His once soft and Calm voice somehow turned into a whisper of a grim reaper who would mercilessly take lives..

He is over protective. Periodt.

He doesn't want any bugs around you.

And Whenever you're down or in a bad mood, He would always come to you and ask in a very VERY soft tone.

"Y/n... would you Mind if you share with me of what is troubling you? Hm.. I may not be of much help, But I certainly would do my best."

A very soft smile is pasted on his face and his angelic voice is heard enough to make that anger inside you to disappear like a trace of smoke. You hesitated but gave a sigh and looked at your brother .

"You see.. there is this classmate of mine... I didn't do anything to him yet He makes fun of me out of nowhere. To the point that I'm irritated with it."

You said in a voice clearly Tired of what you were having trouble on. You felt a warm hand on your head, making you look at your brother Who obviously is concerned.

"Although, My friends did say that Maybe he just liked me and was simply seeking for attention. Which I don't clearly believed cause who would do that?"

You rolled your eyes and sigh once again. You noticed how The concerned look your brother had disappeared in an instant.

"Y/n, do you find him Troublesome?"

He simply asked as he smiled like usual.

"Of course, I do! I find Him annoying too! How he would play with my hair and touch my stuff! Ugh~ Just even remembering him makes my blood boil!"

You vented out while your brother giggled.

"My, my, Don't be like that, There is no reason for someone like him to stay on your mind y/n. People always do unnecessary things to get something they surely won't have, And I do too feel that It is wrong of him to touch your belongings, but Being grumpy won't do you any good so Its better to forget about him, So.. Why don't you eat some ice cream on the fridge, Its your favorite flavor after all. Let us ease your anger, shall we?"

Your brother kazuha Said as he patted your head softly making you nod in excitement.

"really?? If that is the case Then I'll be going first.... -ah! I forgot to tell you this.. "

You stopped and looked at your brother who looked at you confused.

" thank you for listening to me. "

You said as you head out of the room leaving kazuha alone. He smiled widely agreeing that his sister is the cutest and kindest in the world.

After a while ,The bright smile faded and a dark demeanor filled him.

"Yes....Its better to forget about him y/n... "

He smiled widely as if Trains of wonderful ideas are coming straight to his head.

Days had passed since you told your brother about that guy and you clearly noticed how different it is after you told your brother about it. Days are now back to being peaceful. You even wondered if Your brother is secretly a saint.

...

'hmm...? That guy is not showing up to bully me today either, or Do I even see him around the campus... '

You sigh in relief. As you thought that The guy finally gave up on you when in fact it's not.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #kazuha #kazuha x reader #scaramouche #genshin x reader

51 notes · View notes

cdyssey · 10 months ago

Text

Friend

Summary: After Melissa breaks up with Gary, Barbara insists on staying the night with her. [Post-3.01]

CW: Alcohol; Emotional Infidelity

AO3 Link

—

Barbara is vaguely aware that she should probably let Melissa set the tone.

An obliging friend would anyway.

A supportive one.

If Melissa wants to haul ass in her Honda Civic and drive away without saying nary a word, then fine, reasonable, absolutely and resoundingly valid—that’s how she’s chosen to cope. An obliging friend would make sure that she has her keys. Tell her that she loves her. Open the double doors for her on the way out.

I’ll check on you tomorrow, girlfriend.

Drive safe and call me if you need me.

Conversely, if the younger woman wants to yell and scream—kick a desk over and then kick it again, punch the nearest brick wall, issue a string of vicious Italian curses between her teeth—then that would be perfectly intelligible, too. A more than reasonable reaction to the nonsense that her paramour just pulled, embarrassing her like that in front of God and Jalen Hurts! (Mmph! The audacity of him! The absolute nerve! Barbara had told him—at least twice that she recalls—that it was a bad idea to propose. She hadn’t even been intending to help him. She had just wanted to minimize the startling possibility that Melissa could be hurt.)

A supportive friend would dutifully be there in the ugly aftermath, double and triple-checking that the second grade teacher didn’t accidentally break a toe, wrapping her bloodied knuckles in gauze.

Let it all out, she’d maybe say.

I’m here for you.

Now, in theory and moderate practice, it’s all well and good for people to be obliging and supportive. They’re admirable traits that Barbara would advocate in any Christian worth their paid tithes. But the crucial problem—(well, the one that she’s willing to admit to anyway)—is that Barbara Howard, for all of her upstanding moral fiber, has never once been the obliging type, having learned unshakeable grit long ago in the Sisyphean grind of the Philadelphia public school system.

And moreover, even though she would be the first to proclaim her undying loyalty, that’s far from synonymous with her support. The kindergarten teacher would crawl over hot coals to be there for Melissa Schemmenti.

That’s loyalty.

The primal abnegation—the inherent masochism—of love.

But to helplessly watch her best friend punish herself over yet another undeserving man has never been her inclination nor her particular strong suit.

So, if the two choices are to let Melissa run away or further hurt herself, to be obliging or to be supportive —(and these have always been the two choices when Melissa has been in pain)—then Barbara chooses neither, which is to say as soon as the bell rings and all of her students have been ushered to the gym, she chooses to stride over to the classroom across the way and plant herself firmly in the door, folding her arms over her chest.

“I’m driving you home this evening,” she declares and is glad to find that her voice is gentle. (She had been afraid all afternoon that the consolation would come out a little wrong.)

(That she would slip up and sound relieved.)

(And she is that—assuredly.)

(She’s so relieved that Gary the Vending Machine Guy didn’t get to make such a half-assed proposal and get away with it. Perhaps a little inappropriately, she thanks God for his divine mercy in ensuring that the karmic struggle bent towards justice.)

(But she also knows that she has no right to advertise this sensation—this incredible, gut-wrenching relief—somewhere that her friend might see it. She may not be supportive—(hell, she might not even entirely be kind ) —but she isn’t callous. She isn’t cruel.)

Melissa is at her desk, half-slumped in her perpetually creaking seat, staring at nothing at particular. The wall. A faded poster of the solar system. Dust notes suspended in the sunlight trickling in through the blinds. There are sweeping shadows beneath her eyes where her mascara has been running. A telltale redness around the nose.

“Barb,” she starts tiredly, only barely glancing her way, “you don’t hafta—“

But Barbara intercepts her protestations neatly.

“—I want to,” she insists, intending to step forward and just as suddenly reluctant to even try, discerning something horrible in the other woman’s eyes that terrifies her.

Something unnervingly still.

Something broken.

She distinctly remembers that the last time Melissa’s eyes had looked like that, she’d been staring down the barrel of an acrimonious divorce. She didn’t smile for an entire year. She just pretended to when she thought that people were rightfully concerned.

“We could… have a girl’s night, perhaps,” she presses on, perhaps a little hesitant at first, sensing that she’s sidling up to an invisible wall. “Yes, a true lady’s evening! Drink a lot of wine. Watch Jeopardy! Order takeout from that—mmm, oh what’s it called?—that… that interesting pizzeria on the corner. The one next to the Shell Station that was robbed last year.”

“It’s Rizzo’s, and you hate that crap,” Melissa snorts humorlessly, never once missing a beat, an expert at finding meaning in her ellipsis. “Said it gave ya indigestion.”

“But you love it,” Barbara returns emphatically, lips kneading into a fond smile. It’s a sorry excuse for a restaurant in her opinion, the pizza greasy, the garlic bread overseasoned. and to add insult to improperly cooked injury, the owners are tremendously rude, always complaining when shedares to complain about the lacking quality of their products. But that’s not the point. The point is: “I’ll guzzle some Pepto. And if it comes down to it, indulge in a Tums.”

I’d do anything to make you happy.

Her smile widens and she dares to hope for something of a crooked grin in return, but Melissa doesn’t seem to find this playful gesture of self-sacrifice nearly half as amusing—nor even endearing for that matter—finally meeting her in the eye, a certain hardness in her tall face, a steeliness that is willing to cut.

“I don’t want your pity,” she mutters, quiet defiance in every syllable, audible defeat in the strained silence that follows.

Barbara knows that her friend has to say some version of this line. She has to make it perfectly clear that she thinks she’s hard to love, and then, for some godforsaken reason, she feels compelled to go as far as proving it, street fighting with just her teeth.

“And you’re not getting it either,” she says firmly, shaking her head.

“I’d be a blessed fool to ever pity you, Melissa Schemmenti.”

More silence weaves its way into the gap, as thick and as complicated as a rope between them. The younger woman scrutinizes her closely, trying to locate the mockery that she seems to perpetually assume is there, while Barbara stares just as intensely back, refusing to let her arrive at such a profoundly incorrect conclusion in the first place.

“And you couldn’t possibly be that, could ya, Barb?” The second grade teacher eventually sighs, a wane smile bobbing to her dark lips. “Anybody’s fool?”

“Exactly,” she agrees with a certain smugness, rightfully intuiting that she’s won. “And you're nobody’s pity project either. Now grab your purse, sweetheart. As the kids would say, we’re blowing the lid off of this popsicle stand."

But for all this—their familiar back-and-forth, the other woman's stunning pain, their mutual agreement that Barbara isn't a fool when it comes to all matters Melissa—Melissa remains unmoving, though clearly not untouched. She blinks once, and Barbara sees that her pale eyes are overbright, everything about her so tender and visibly scraped raw.

“You serious about this?” She rasps, achingly vulnerable, almost child-like as she sits with her hands loosely templed on top of her desk. “You don’t… gotta babysit me, y’know. I’m gonna be just fine.”

“I know that,” Barbara exhales softly, and more than that, fundamentally believes it. She believes with every atom in her that her best friend is going to get through this latest tribulation with all her pieces intact, that she’s Melissa Schemmenti, for goodness sake, and she’s never known a challenge that she couldn’t capably meet.

“But let me take care of you tonight anyway,” she finishes, all kindness and ferocious warmth for the woman six feet across from her in this cold and empty room.

Her colleague of some twenty-odd years.

Her sister.

Her partner—as loaded as that word is, as Barbara often pretends for it not to be.

“God, you’re such a gagootz,” comes an affectionate reply, and then a hitch of a laugh of a poorly concealed sob.

“Only for you,” she teases right back and shifts slightly on the balls of her feet, suddenly discomfited by the idea that she could actually possibly mean it.

She swallows lightly and shoves the traitorous thought into one of the innumerable drawers of her mind. Locks it. Rebelliously holds on to the key.

—

Barbara is more than aware that she probably shouldn’t prod the freshly exposed wound. An obliging friend wouldn’t anyway—a supportive one.

But in their particular friendship, where the only barrier between them sometimes is the fabric that separates their brushing skin, pushing a little harder than they should is an implicit given for them, if only because they know the other is so prone to pulling away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Barbara asks on the drive away from her own house, where she picked up an overnight bag: some clothes, her toiletries, a bottle of unopened wine, her CPAP machine. She feels guilty for abruptly canceling on Gerald. She’d made plans with him and just as immediately bailed when there were suddenly more important things.

When there was Melissa.

To his lasting credit, he immediately understood.

Her wonderful husband always understands when it comes to Melissa, something complicated in his eyes and maddeningly patient in his weathered smile whenever they talk about her. Barbara doesn’t know what to make of these microgestures, nor does she try to decode them into an alphabet that makes sense when they’re both currently content to let their arcane meanings go unworded.

Instead, she grips the sun-baked leather of her steering wheel all the tighter, and asks Melissa if she wants to talk about her pain, perhaps solely for the reason that she won’t have to spend any unnecessary time interrogating her own.

“Nope,” Melissa grunts unhelpfully, eyes eclipsed behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. “Nothing to talk about. I had a boyfriend. He wanted somethin’ more than that, and I, uh, couldn’t… I could never give that… I mean—and now I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. Simple as that.”

But Barbara hears the clumsy slippage of words, the implicit pain there, the story her best friend is choosing to tell herself, the solely placed blame.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she murmurs, easing to a stop light that’s just turned red. She takes the lull for the opportunity that it is, reaching over without looking, placing a hand on Melissa’s wrist where it lays across the console. Squeezing once.

Gently—always gently.

Not letting go, even though she absolutely should.

“You told that man. You told him and you told him, and you explicitly told him. It’s hardly on you if he was too obtuse to ever get it.”

“He’s not obtuse,” Melissa snaps, suddenly pulling her hand back into her lap. The violence of it shocks them both, the silence taut, frayed and fraying. Somewhere in the unbearable static, the light turns green without either of them ever being really aware.

The rusty sedan behind them honks at Barbara to go.

She presses the pedal with a little more force than is required.

“Sorry,” the second grade teacher mutters, flushing a little, tugging at her seatbelt strap. “It’s just… if he’s obtuse, then what am I, y’know? We both thought we were on the same page, and here it turns out I can’t open any book without makin’ spaghetti of the words.”

“Melissa,” she exhales softly. She doesn’t know what to say to such a revealing proclamation, where to even begin, how to unpick a skein of self-loathing that’s as convoluted as that, the threads unwilling to be anything else but a tangled ball.

“Which is why I don’t wanna talk about it yet,” the younger teacher shrugs, harshly swiping at the skin beneath her eyes, angling her body away. “I gotta figure out how to explain it all to myself first.”

“And would it be too much to ask for you to be kind to yourself in that process?” Barbara can’t help but ask, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the road, fingers tightly locked around the wheel. “To afford yourself the same grace that you so generously bestow to others?”

To Gary the Vending Machine Guy.

To Joseph.

You always take up for fools who don’t deserve it, she bitterly thinks and half-despises herself for it. Melissa can’t help who she loves, anymore than Barbara can’t help but drop everything to be there for Melissa, which is probably the same thing as saying that Barbara can’t help who she loves either.

It's a terrifying thought, one that the kindergarten teacher can't exactly afford to entertain when there's a diamond studded ring on her fourth finger that Gerald took out a loan for when they were just twenty-five. He was besotted with her, and she liked him so very much, and she thought that the safe boundaries of marriage would teach her how to love a man like a good woman of God.

Melissa only offers another listless shrug, staring out of the window as the city passes them by.

A blur of color and light.

Streaks of meaningless sound.

—

They fall into a familiar routine, the same metronomic cadence that they know by heart after nearly three decades of jokingly calling each other home. They eat. They drink. (Barbara swills copious amounts of Pepto to deal with that disgusting pizza.) They curl up on Melissa’s plastic-covered couch beneath the knit blanket that her nonna made and watch Jeopardy!, shouting out the answers at nearly the exact same time. When the show is over, they drink even more, quickly draining Barbara’s cheap bottle of Merlot to the lees. Melissa moves on to some old beer she had in her outside fridge, refusing to touch her good stuff—the vintage wines, the nice beers, her impressive collection of bourbons—for the occasion.

Barbara decides to sober up in case Melissa needs her, exchanging her delicate wine glass for a plastic Hooters cup filled with water.

The younger woman’s face gets steadily rosier the more she indulges, petals blooming across her cheek, a pleasant ruddiness shading the tip of her nose. She laughs a little too hard at the harmless sitcom that they’re not even really watching. She tucks her feet beneath Barbara’s thigh on the couch to warm them, causing the kindergarten teacher to inexplicably shiver. Around ten, she drunkenly muses about the astonishing merits of her own breasts.

“Gary called ‘em the best honkers he’s ever seen,” she says suddenly, two-thirds into her second Miller Lite, staring down at her cleavage with a frown that makes her plump lower lip poke out.

Barbara nearly chokes on her water, spilling a little on her blouse, her own gaze unwittingly magnetized to the objects in question—specifically, the way the divot of them is just barely visible at the low neck of her shirt. Cream-colored things, smooth and deliciously warmed in the golden glow of the lamp, delicately freckled with sun-spots from so many youthful days spent out in the sun.

“Used t’think that’s the best compliment a guy’s ever given me,” the younger woman half-smiles, “‘cuz my only point of reference was Joe sayin’ I should get a touch up on my boob job.”

The explicit reference to Melissa’s ex-husband snaps Barbara out of her reverie, a cold splash of water over the heat that had been incrementally rising in her face by degrees.

“Joseph was a manchild and a heathen,” she sniffs primly, finally feeling comfortable enough with the details of Melissa’s divorce to confidently say so. Of course, six years ago, she also thought as much and occasionally said it, too, but that only ended with her and Melissa bitterly arguing over what sort of treatment that the second-grade teacher seemed to think she deserved.

Time must really heal all wounds, though, because now, Melissa only limply chuckles between drags of stale beer.

“And if the only compliment that men can ever muster about you concerns the state of your bosom—impressive though it certainly may be—then they don’t deserve the opportunity to compliment you at all,” she finishes pointedly, tapping her long nails against the side of her water. (By goodness, and dear almighty God, she’s trying to let it escape her notice that the Hooters logo is an incredibly apt brand for the conversation they’re currently having, but it's a damn uphill climb when the whole cup is nearly the same shade of Melissa's hair.)

The younger teacher must sense that they've arrived at dangerous grounds, though, skating around the very perimeter of a conversation that she’s so clearly unwilling to entertain, because she polishes the last of her beer off in one gulp and adeptly changes the subject.

“So you think my rack is impressive, huh?” She suddenly smirks, eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“Girlfriend!” Barbara immediately groans, shutting her eyes as something lurches within her at the insinuation. A twinge at the seething core of her. A not particularly unpleasant warmth coiling upwards from the pit of her stomach, coloring her insides the most intoxicating shades of red: scarlet, crimson, candied apple, vermilion.

The exact shade of Melissa Schemmenti’s vivid lips.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

She suddenly feels the pressing need to go to church, but since that’s not currently an option, maybe a cold shower and an unspecified prayer for forgiveness will have to do.

Melissa only laughs at her, long and almost offensively hard, clutching her soft belly.

“Ha!” She wheezes. “I’m not sure there are other ways t’mean it, Barb.”

—

A little after midnight, Barbara finally settles into the guest bedroom that she knows used to be where Joseph slept in the bitter months leading up to the divorce. It’s small but cozy, containing everything she needs to get through the night—a good mattress, a nightstand, an outlet to plug in her phone and sleep apnea machine—and yet, the kindergarten teacher finds herself in a hopeless war in the pursuit of stillness. She tries to read a few pages from the Danielle Steel book that she picked up from the library, but all the words just seem to fall off the page. She scrolls through her phone for a bit—checking emails, liking Facebook memes, adding to the grocery list in her notes—and just as abruptly stops when she sees that she missed a goodnight text from Gerald a few hours ago.

Night, hon. Sweet dreams. Give Melissa my love.

It’s entirely kind—(Gerald is and always will be)—and it excavates her on the spot for some obscure reason that she is unwilling to try and name. She slams her phone down like it’s the fabled Book of Judgment, flicks off the lamp, and attempts to finally go to sleep, but the smothering dark just becomes a convenient cover for her less palatable thoughts, ones explicitly having to do with the woman in the master bedroom next door.

Did she make it into the shower alright?

Take her medicines, shimmy into some pajamas?

(What sort of pajamas does her best friend wear when she's at home and no one is looking anyway? Surely, not a full set—such as the kind that Barbara prefers. Old t-shirts? A nightgown? Perhaps simply her undergarments.)

(Maybe even nothing at all.) (Barbara shivers in the darkness and idly wonders if the same reason that she cringes when Gerald is kind to her is because she spends her nighttime hours wondering what Melissa does or doesn't sleep in. She sternly dismisses the thought. Calls it absurd. Absolutely needs it to be. Cathedrals of bare flesh erect themselves in her mind anyway: a temple of a body, suffused in a divine and feminine glow.)

Is Melissa finally asleep, the copious amounts of booze that she drank blissfully washing her away into the gentle sea of the night?

Or, is she lying alone in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling too?

Thinking about Gary.

Heartbroken over the loss of a man who could have treated her far better than he did.

It shouldn’t really concern her, and yet it does. Absolutely. Every unanswered question jabs at her as she lies in the bed that Melissa’s ex-husband used to sleep in, hopelessly trying to get comfortable under such inherently distressing conditions. She squirms, writhes, tosses and inevitably turns.

She just as suddenly stills at the plaintive knock on her bedroom door.

“Barb?” The familiar voice leans tiredly against the wood. “You still up?”

“Yes,” she just barely breathes, slowly gathering herself into an upright position. Then louder, sounding much more like herself: “Mhm. Come on in.”

The invitation is heeded, the door swinging open to reveal Melissa in the silvery pool of the hallway’s night light, hair still damp from the shower, wearing nothing but an old Eagles shirt that just barely covers the tops of her thighs.

Barbara swallows thickly, a kaleidoscope of sensations whirling through her stomach: so many colors, indecorous thoughts, and sickly desires.

Needs.

The very center of her tightens, shifts uneasily in response to this unprecedented sight that she'd just been vaguely dreaming of. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw something that she could so easily name as beautiful.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She croaks, loathing how affected her voice sounds, every syllable touched. It’s just her best friend after all, half-naked in the dripping light, looking strangely small in the tall frame of the door.

Nothing worth getting her panties in a twist about.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Melissa confirms, pulling a hand through her hair. “... I’d forgot how much I hate bein’ alone.”

It’s the type of vulnerable confession that the second-grade teacher would never, ever admit in the cold light of day, but here, in the complicated darkness, all of her inhibitions loosened by booze, Barbara can see that the younger woman thinks it might be permissible to finally be truthful.

Maybe, by the morning time, she’ll even forget that she ever was.

“I’m here,” Barbara murmurs, suddenly aware of the painful emptiness of the space next to her, like it’s a hole in her side, an untenable absence, needing attention. How pathetic of her.

How lonely.

(She has an incredible, caring husband.)

(Why in God’s blessed name is she lonely even still?)

“You always are,” Melissa agrees, apparently hearing the doubled-speak, too, and with that, there’s nothing else for her to do except crawl into bed next to Barbara, the mattress shuddering with her added weight.

And then there they are, two women lying in the same bed, side-by-faithful-side.

Shoulders just touching.

Hips.

Thighs.

The delicate bones of their ankles.

Melissa’s hair tickles Barbara’s neck.

Barbara's heart revolts in its ivory cage.

“I keep thinkin’,” the second-grade teacher eventually starts, slowly spooning the awful words into the bigness and the blackness of it all, “what if Gary was it? What if that cavolo was the best I’m gonna get at sixty-years old, and I just let him slip away ‘cause I don’t ever wanna see a big, shiny rock on my finger again? He was good to me. He cared. He could do his own laundry, and he always let me have the last beer. Shouldn’t that have been enough, Barb? Would it have killed me to give it a go?”

Barbara more than understands that these musings are not exactly for her—spoken to her, yes, but that’s not the same as directed at her, requiring her opinion, her precise judgments, her thoughts, her thoughts, her spinning, desperate thoughts. The younger woman is just venting, exhaling the noxious fumes before they can build up in her nervous system and explode.

Perhaps a good friend—an obliging one, a supportive one—would just let her do it. Get it all out there, and let her eventually fall asleep to sound of absolute silence. There’s no harm to be done in that, no stain on her immaculate soul if she does nothing that will make her feel like she needs to atone the next morning.

But, of course, maybe the crucial problem isn’t that Barbara Howard isn’t obliging and supportive.

Maybe the essential crux, the truth that she has tried desperately hard to alienate and annihilate and so cleverly elide, is that it has been a long, long time since friend has been a sufficient enough epithet for the intimacy that exists between herself and the woman scarcely inches away in the dark of this room.

Maybe friend is just the necessary lie that the kindergarten teacher tells herself to make it through the day.

Something easily digestible, a poison that she doesn’t have to think too hard about to continually swallow.

But this particular epiphany, as revelatory as it is, as equally disruptive, is quickly cut off at its knees, oxygen deprived, neatly culled in the well-pruned garden of Barbara’s mind. She cannot think these things.

They’re dirty, simply blasphemous.

And yet, she can’t just let Melissa go unanswered either; she can’t let her go around thinking that she’s too damaged to fully love.

“But shouldn’t the precise inverse be true as well, Melissa?” She asks, perhaps a little fiercer in the darkness, and yet, every bit as exacting as she would be in the light. “That if he had loved you enough, he would have listened and met you where you were at? What is a marriage but a signed paper between two people? If he loved you enough, why on God’s green and almighty Earth did he require a government stamp as certified proof?”

Her chest heaves with the weight of this line of questioning; she feels strangely proud of this outburst and simultaneously sick that she does, the bitter extremes chasing each other in whorls in the pit of her gut, totally irreconcilable, both awful and glorious.

There’s no catharsis for the longest time either, the silence gnawing upon them both with razor-sharp teeth, puncturing their already tender skin.

“Melissa,” she bites her lip, fearing she’s finally gone too far, said too much, revealed something about herself that she can't possibly take back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

But the second-grade teacher cuts across her.

“It wasn’t a dick move for him to propose.” And Barbara can hear it in the shattered facets of her voice, how hard she’s trying not to cry—not even here in the darkness where no one except the good Lord can ever really see. “It wasn’t his fault I’m effed in the head.”

“You are not —” She starts vehemently.

“I am.”

“You didn’t settle, Melissa Schemmenti,” she insists, reaching over into the barest gap between them and decisively grabbing the younger woman’s hand, templing it with her own, their ten fingers interlinking beneath the coolness of the sheets. “You loved him and yourself enough to let him go. That isn’t self-destruction, sweetheart, and never could be. You saved yourself. There are plenty of people in this world who wish they had an inch of your bravery to do the same.”

Someone in this very room even.

A pious would-be-sinner in Melissa's ex-husband's bed.

“But maybe I was wrong, Barb. Maybe it wouldn’t have cost me anything t'get married.”

“No,” Barbara says sharply, but then, feeling Melissa’s hand tense in her own, just as immediately softens, brushing her thumb along the sharp spines of the other woman's knuckles.

“No,” she repeats herself, with a renewed gentleness that almost overwhelms her, with all the collected tenderness in her bones. “You already knew that it would cost you everything.”

Melissa sits with this thought for a longer while still, perhaps arranging her counterargument into an fusillade of harsh words that Barbara probably even deserves at this point, but in the end, all that comes out is a low, defeated chuckle.

A squeeze of the hand.

“Jesus, if I only loved myself about half as much as you loved me,” she starts, but Barbara interrupts her again, keen to get the last word in, to have the golden opportunity to define the exact depths of her love.

“—then you’d be the most self-assured woman in the world,” she finishes softly, squeezing Melissa’s hand right back.

“Gagootz,” Melissa accuses her again with a fond sigh, and she shifts in the bed a little—and then a whole lot—until she’s leaning against Barbara’s shoulder, and all of her senses are filled with an excess of her: the slight dampness of her hair, the delicate swell of her strawberry shampoo, skin-touching-skin-touching-smooth-and-warm-skin.

“Forever and ever, amen,” Barbara murmurs, finally daring to press her cheek against the crown of Melissa’s dark head.

She asks for nothing more and daily gets by with so much less, so this is the closest thing to paradise if such a thing exists on this mortal earth.

In the permissive darkness, she breathes it all in.

#work wives #reginianwrites #s: Abbott Elementary #It is so good to be back

13 notes · View notes

tenebriism · 11 months ago

Note

Of all the people Jean has come to find gifts for, Tsuki is by far the hardest. There are so many things she wants to gift to him. So many simple things that he has been denied throughout the course of his long and perilous life. But while the novelty of an ugly winter sweater or a batch of homemade cookies may convey some of what she wants him to know, it still falls short of the gravity of compassion she wishes to bestow upon him.

So this Winter, as the year draws to a close and the lantern rite looms on the horizon, it is an envelope that she gives to the former Wanderer. Just a small little thing, sealed with a wax stamp that bears the Gunnhildr family crest. Contained within that elegant paper is a simple key to the place she now calls home and a note that conveys a sentiment that perhaps carries more weight than the outside world can ever truly comprehend.

---

Wherever the wind may take you; know that you will always have a home to return to for as long as you need it.

- J x

This, still, is a strange concept to him. The idea that a time of the year can seemingly shift an entire nation and beyond, in unison, and have everyone in an auto-piloted endeavor to shove it in each other's faces. This goes FAR beyond some annual festival, he's noticed. The decor stays up for weeks, mora passed around aplenty for materialistic trading, and where, normally, he may have been able to tuck himself into a tree for an extended spell of silence, he CAN'T, now, what with some fashion of festivities going on every single night.

Perhaps it's the ' most wonderful time of the year ' for those actually INVOLVED in it, but to him, it feels like it's more trouble than it's worth ( and, a right detriment to his already fragile nerves ).

So what, then, keeps him lingering outside of Mondstadt, in particular, watching how the town evolves day by day? Lights strewn and the Angel's Share more packed than usual. Gift exchanges at the Anemo Archon's statue, sometimes with tears ( a proposal, a baby announcement... alright, so ' gifts ' aren't always materialistic, then, he learns ). Holiday carols and seasonal plays at the fountain, whilst food and drink is passed around. He loathes the thought of admitting it seems somewhat NICE... that he would dare YEARN for something like this, even if he knows it would only end up overwhelming him.

The Acting Grand Master, though, is the exception. Though not a modicum of understanding exists in regards to why she endeavors, so fiercely, to take care of and INCLUDE him, he never turns her down despite it. Like a lost puppy, he follows her out of town, away from the hustle and bustle of Mondstadt as yet another party kicks off. She's come to know him relatively well, he fears, and it's likely why whatever she wishes to speak with him about will be done outside the city.

Away from interruptions, away from prying eyes, away from an atmosphere she knows he won't like.

" If you need help with something, just say so, moth--- ugh. Jean. " the Wanderer mumbles. He won't hesitate to, she should KNOW this, considering he's one of few people who even bothers to make sure she doesn't kill herself amidst all the duties she takes on. The envelope, extended towards him, then, earns her a sigh, like he'd had the audacity to forget the kind of person she was. Of course she would make sure to include him in her pot of generosity, no matter how much he may act like he doesn't want to be. It's why she continues to hold out the envelope to him with that... gentle, PATIENT smile of hers, and doesn't force him to accept it while he battles with himself over why he should in the first place.

Is it to make HER happy? Or, is it because he wants to know how it feels to be given something, when all his life, everything has been TAKEN?

Thumb glides against the fold, carefully separating it from the adhesive, and as he pulls both the key and the note from its confines, he shoots her a very confused look. " What is this? " Obviously, he could just read the note to find out, but forgive him for not being a fan of the unknown. As she gestures for him to read the note, he sighs and relents... and that's where the interaction stops for several moments.

He reads it once. Reads it twice. Flips it over to look for something else he may have missed, and when nothing is there, he looks at her. To the soft eyes that have only ever gazed upon him with kindness and adoration, and the even softer smile that he feels, deep down, he doesn't deserve to see.

Don't cry... no, don't cry.

He hasn't had a home in so very long. Not a proper one to go back to, at least, besides Lesser Lord Kusanali's domain. It doesn't matter that he, in a way, doesn't need one--- it isn't as if he functions off of food and sleep like mortals do, but he wanders largely because he doesn't HAVE one to return to. If he keeps on the move, keeps occupied, he needn't worry about everything WRONG with him ( and it's a wonder that's not ALWAYS on his mind, because there's a LOT. )

Tsuki ducks his head as he pulls the key from the envelope and squeezes it within his palm, as if he fears it may up and disappear, or get lost, if he doesn't clutch onto it as hard as he can. In a swift motion, he swipes his opposite arm against his eyes, growing in silent frustration at how futile his efforts were proving to banish his emotions. Eventually, though, he gives up, and slowly steps forward, leaning his face into her body with a stupidly childish hiccup.

He can't say thank you right now, or even BEGIN to verbally convey just how much this means to him right this very minute, but he hopes his inability to get himself together is proof enough that this is a gift he does not mind at all. Even if he's far, far older than her, she still feels like the mother he never had, but always needed, and maybe this is the gods' way of finally showing him MERCY, by giving him the one thing he has always wanted.

@gunnhildred ;;

#gunnhildred #[ oh. ;_ ; this one got me. ahhhhhJ EEEEEAN YOU ANGEL #Q ___ Q best believe tsuki's gonna be there constantly.#and yes. he's bringing food back for her. and gifts. and medicines.#and everything she needs. and yeah. he's cleaning up and helping her around the house too.#anything to scratch as much as he can off her hefty to do list. q_Q <3 ]#muse ;; WANDERER ( ANSWERED ASK )#muse ;; WANDERER ( VERSE . DEFAULT )

3 notes · View notes

deprivedwithjoy · 1 year ago

Text

Delusional Party Girl

E X P O S I T I O N

My name is Alysa Gabrielle and they say I'm a narcissist. I don't know what they're talking about, was it because of what happened earlier? Why are they attacking me with these false accusations? I don't get it, I know myself, I was a good person.

'...this is so annoying.'

'I dislike people, but I will never frown upon gossip.'

'To me, it's just a normal conversation between my friends and I, it's not my fault that some people are just way too insensitive to even recognize their own flaws. Gossiping is not even that serious, this is what all girls do, nothing about this is wrong or offensive. Imagine not being raised well enough to be this overly dramatic, attention-seeker much? You must have been spoiled rotten when you were just a child.' Closing my brown eyes for a second, I sighed heavily before glancing at the rat next to me. She's crying, wow, the audacity. Obviously, she is only doing this to manipulate the guidance counsellor into taking her side. Then, she scratches her big flat nose with her trembling thin hand. My nose is wrinkled at the sight of her dark and bruised skin, it's a miracle how she managed to stay alive despite how ugly she looks in the mirror.

Before Thea Valdez caught me staring, I shifted my head in the opposite direction with a forced smile pushing the corners of my lips. Unlike her, I prefer to put on a facade that is calm and modest, it's always better than humiliating myself in front of everyone by crying a river. 'Ugh, when will this rat of a woman learn to close her disposal? Is she not tired of being a laughing stock?' My lips pressed together in annoyance, fed up with her pretentious antics, I began reaching out for my phone inside the leather sling bag.

'I need anything to distract me from this, I don't think I can endure being in the same room as her any longer.'

R I S I N G A C T I O N

"Alysa," her voice was shaking when she called my name. It was clear that she dared to sob like a vulnerable child in front of an enemy, who knew that she was also capable of dropping her dignity to break the ice? If she is not going to apologise for what she dragged me into, then she is not worth my time. Thea continued with her speech, "Tell me... what did I do to deserve this?"

For some reason, I want to snap at her; to lose control and to strangle her before the guidance counsellor returns. But if I did that, I would be held accountable for the crime of homicide. Obviously, there should be a less disastrous way for me to handle this situation. "What are you talking about? No offense but you must be on crack or something. I did nothing wrong and I should be asking you that question. Are you sure you're not overreacting by reporting me to one of the scrawny teachers?" The room went silent, I glanced at Thea to see her reaction. Her tear-stained face was puffy and swollen with grief. She's a possum that plays dead whenever a predator is scanning the whole place, why be a victim when you can face the truth? It's easier to live when you're already gone.

"You're still denying it?" She paused briefly whilst raising an eyebrow. Out of the blue, Thea fixed her composure replacing the traces of insecurity in her orbs with boldness. "Look, no matter how many times you try, you can't gaslight your way out of this. Not anymore. We both know what truly happened, you were there. I did not sabotage Amy to ruin her relationship with Justin. Someone threw acid to her face and it was not me." Her attempts to intimidate are slowly getting on my nerves. Since when did I gaslight her? Without a doubt, this rat is mentally cornered against the wall and shifting the blame is her sole exit. I can't let her win the argument, this is so unfair.

"Here you go again with the false accusations."

"You've said it yourself! You are jealous of Amy and Justin being together. You envy how pretty Amy looks, how smart she is, and how almost everything in her life is perfect. You have a motive behind ruining her face, everyone in school knows it. You are not as innocent as you claim, Thea. If you want me to forgive you, you have to confess. You don't have to keep lying to yourself, this has to stop." I exclaimed in a tone seemingly filled with worry.

C L I M A X

After painstakingly constructing every word that is about to come out of her mouth, Thea spoke, "I disagree. Allow me to repeat myself for better clarity, I did not sabotage Amy." Think of me as a cat on hot bricks, I can climb the roof with ease. However, it's different when you know a wild beast is chasing after you. Every step burns because you're aware of what a single mistake could cause you, everything. Glancing to my left, a weak hand trembles in fear. It hides beneath the table for protection, grasping the fabric of my pants for support. Alysa pierced a glare into my soul with no emotion. Her eyes are tinted in brown yet it's empty and cold. 'I finally stood up to this narcissist... now what? How is she going to react? Whatever she throws at me will be recorded and used against her. While I'm here, I also think it's wise for me to gather all the evidence by pushing the right buttons...'

'That's what she does to me all the time.'

'It's astonishing how she is able to convince herself into believing her own lies. I can't even convince myself of the truth.' Taking a deep breath, my stare lingers at the white ceiling. Later on, a painful memory flashed within the pile of thoughts and it delivered me into the past. Like a curious child peeking through the window, I was embraced by the shivering blow of zephyr sent by the dark clouds forming in the sky. Any moment now, my black hair will be drenched in rain for marching out of school without an umbrella. I was never a big fan of this stormy weather. Imagine the homeless people living across the street, they are more prone to suffering from illnesses than a middle-class man complaining about dinner to his wife with a roof above his head. And besides... I kinda dislike changing clothes.

'...it's not that it's hard. I just can't look at myself for too long.'

'Otherwise, it would hurt a lot when you're confronted by the fact that even you yourself harbour a particular hatred towards your own face.'

Suddenly, clouds finally spat out their beads of water and one by one, these soldiers of nature came crashing like bullets to the ground. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. It didn't take long for me to feel comforted which is ironic because I never liked rainy days. Perhaps, the mood often shifts when you're alone inside the classroom with the wind whispering softly to your ear. I have no options left other than to wait. It's pretty scary to realise how quickly time flies once you trap yourself in a deceptive illusion. Thea, you're a naive pig who has its mind transported into an unfamiliar dimension, and that dimension... was not as great as you thought.

Standing in front of me was Amy with a cigarette stuck in her bleeding mouth. No matter how dim the lights are, her ocean orbs will glow under any circumstances—and by that, I mean, despite how terrifying the sight is when she examines her darned reflection. The female student's once white and flawless skin is now peeling itself from the flesh of her body. Her dirty blonde coloured hair is now burnt as well, it must have been so painful for her and I do not have the right to judge.

"Thus, I was not the one who threw acid to her face. I was the only one she could find to ask for help."

"I was there because it was raining and I didn't bring an umbrella."

"She was there for a smoke break but forgot that she was wearing a lab coat. Smoking in a laboratory filled with chemicals was never a great idea, so why label me the culprit?"

"I've said this before and I will say it again. You can't gaslight your way out of this, Alysa."

F A L L I N G A C T I O N

A few minutes had passed since I confronted her with the truth. Normally, Alysa would have a response by now; with one brow raising and the edge of her lip twitching—waiting for the right moment to explode like a ticking time bomb. It was a miracle for her to remain silent. However, that doesn't seem to be the case. Peace was not derived from tranquility, rather—it can only be felt once you are able to predict the movements of an enemy. Out of the blue, Alysa stood up from her chair ambling towards the glass door in a hurry. The clacking of high heels can be heard as she leaves the guidance office.

E N D I N G

Thea Valdez is the equivalent of a deer caught in headlights, not because she was afraid of what Alysa will do; but because her mind is engulfed with questions and unnecessary doubts of her previous argument. Every time she is involved in a drama with Alysa, the news will spread like wildfire. That innocent-looking party girl had a reputation of having many deceptive tricks up her sleeve, Thea can't just accept her defeat. Not after all the effort she invested in constructing her plan to expose Alysa's lies. Later on, she was then reminded by the guidance counsellor that the entire conversation was recorded. Gathering the courage to take a stand once again, the truth of her innocence prevailed.

#shortstory

0 notes

rottedsaint · 2 years ago

Text

Main Story !

★ not proofread, gn reader, fight mention

You and Hanja, your closest friend, had just gotten off from work feeling absolutely drained with deadlines for an upcoming book. Decided to grab drinks on this wonderful friday evening, although it might not have been the best idea...

The bar was so rowdy you'd have guessed there was se sort of event going on. You could barely hear your own voice when you tried to grab Hanja's attention, though the whole atmosphere was nice.

It took your mind off everything else as the drink in your hand relaxed your erratic nerves.

Drink after drink and you eventually had to use the restroom, your intoxicated mind couldn't care less as long as you completed the action at hand.

As you got up you noticed Hanja had left the bar. When ? You couldn't tell. A swift turn about and quick glance sufficed your consciousness as you left to relieve yourself.

"HEY ! BREAK IT UP !!" Agressive shouts and a long string of swears from a familiar voice registered in your brain. You started calling out to the owner of the voice.

though the liquor pumping through your bloodstream aided in slurring your words and jumbling them together. You push and shove through the crowd shouting frantically, "HANJA ? HANJA !!"

The closer you got, the altercation became clear. Hanja had gotten into a fight with someone, a pretty bad fight at that.

As you squeezed your way through the people, excusing yourself and apologizing to the security, prior to dragging your friend out of there.

During the period of time you two were waiting for a cab you decided to break the deafening silence. "hey, hanja ?" she mumbled into your shoulder to let you know she was listening.

"Why'd you get into a fight anyway ? It's not like you, you're usually calm and easy to get along with..." You pause, taking a breath from your long ramble. "What, happened ?"

Hanja sighed as you hailed a taxi, "I'll tell you once we get home..."

And the ride home was silent, except for thr hum of the engine. Hanja paid the fair back to your place as you helped her all the way to your apartment. "pasta?"

she looked up at your question, unaware of how close you'd gotten with a first aid kit under one arm and an ice pack in the other.

a soft grin grew on her face as she processed your words, "yeah, that would be-"

and as soon as she responded you cut her off. "if you tell me what happened back there, at the bar."

you sat down on the couch with them and made a gesture for her to give you her arm, she winced as you grazed it with an alcohol pad. "mhm, I did promise."

She appriceated how persice and careful you were with her. "so, since we walked in and I mean literally, some dude was staring and at one point falling you around. when you left for thr bathroom he tried to roofie your drink."

By this point in the story, you had finished wrapping her scratches and had moved to the kitchen to start on the pasta.

Hanja took a deep breath before continuing, to calm the ugly bitter feeling that almost came over her. "he even had the audacity to follow you to the bathroom and sneak some sort of picture of you. I yanked him aside,"

She paused for dramatic effect, a proud smile illuminating her face. "and I beat the absolute shit outta him. ouuu you shoulda seen him ! was he messed up."

"Thanks, Hanja. hope this makes up for it." You brought two bowls of your favorite pasta, and two glasses of water over to eat with her.

"Don't worry about it bestie !" moments like this were your favorite, a comfortable not to noisy ambiance. cars could be heard honking and driving from your open balcony window.

The sound of life keeping you content. you threw your arm around her shoulder as you got comfortable, setting your dish down. "Get some rest Hanja, you need it. aht, we can take care of dishes tomorrow."

#hanja my oc #hanja the publisher #original character #original character story #oc story

0 notes

razzle-berry · 4 years ago

Note

I have to get this off my chest cuz damn if no one wants to say it, I will! We all know how shitty Quirk society is when it comes to mutation quirks, being quirkless, subtle quirks, or quirks that are just perceived as evil. So I’d like to request hc’s of Shoji, Shinsou, Aizawa, and Fatgum with an s/o that hates people that judge quirks or try to let the bullshit slide.

For example, Shoji’s s/o dislikes Pony from Class 1-B for how she insulted Shoji’s appearance despite not knowing him at all, so she tends to keep a stone face or glare on anyone like that unless they apologize. Would deadass say “He’s not the monster here, you are.”

Shinsou’s s/o would openly call people cowards/idiots for antagonizing Shinsou’s quirk when it could be used for interrogating villains and subtletly get information from enemy sources, so she’s more than happy to defend him and others like him.

And Aizawa’s/Fatgum’s s/o just openly points out the bullshit ethics of the society for how no one should be discriminated or ranked for their quirk since they can’t help being born with whatever quirk they have and even calls out pro-hero’s that holds the whole “flashy quirk >” mindset *cough*Endeavor*cough* since it could demotivate and make others insecure about being a hero or even using their quirks at all.

This was long but quirk discrimination got me heated and I rarely see anyone talk about it or do hc’s about it.

I feel you. I hate this so much too especially because so many people have or may have suffered in the show because of this! I was actually just talking about this with one of my friends earlier lol.

There's going to be a bit if a stylistic change with this hc so bear with me please.

Warnings: Discrimination, swearing, Y/N is about to go off on someone, slight angst ig

Character(s): Shoji, Shinso, Aizawa, Fatgum

Mezo Shoji

Let’s just start off by saying that anybody who has the audacity to call Shoji a monster can catch not just his your, but my hands as well. This man is so strong, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well to not let the blatant discrimination turn him away from wanting to be a hero. (Absolutely no hate to those who did go down that path because of it though, they still valid)

Shoji can, for the most part, handle himself in these situations. While they hurt, he grew up having to deal with it and is sadly used to it

But the first time you went off on someone for judging him, it made him fall deeper in love

“How dare you!” The cafeteria chatter and traffic in the mall seemed to freeze in time as your voice carried out. In front of you was a rather tall man who could have been considered attractive if not for his ugly words. Mezo stood behind you, looking at you in shock at how angry you had become.

“Mezo is an amazing hero, and even better person, and you have the absolute nerve to insult him because of how he looks?”

The man started to sweat underneath your heavy gaze, as well as the whispers that started to grow around you two. Mezo decided to step in and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Darling, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” You sent him a brief smile before turning you glare onto the stranger. “You’re not the monster here, he is.”

Hitoshi Shinso

He’s used to people referring to him as a villain the second they know what his quirk is and by the time we the audience meet him, he’s accepted it

He’s fallen into such a deep pit of insecurity, it’s a wonder he even managed to accept that you weren’t afraid of him, let alone have romantic interest him

The first time he saw you jump to his, or any other person that's like him, defense he was in shock.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hitoshi stopped and stared at you in shock.

A small villain had tried to keep the restaurant hostage for some reason or another and had a woman at gun point as he talked to the police outside. While currently not on duty, Hitoshi still had his licence and controlled the villain to safely return the woman to her family and turn himself in. He tried to go comfort the woman and see if he needed anything, only for her to scream at him for having such a villainous quirk. Naturally, he was upset but he was willing and ready to move on from the unfortunately common situation and just go back to his lunch date with you. Seemed like you had other plans.

"This man just saved you, and you want to call him a villain? How much of a child do you have to be to think that someone's quirk determines what they become. Hitoshi is a wonderful hero, and his so called 'villainous' quirk has helped save hundreds of people!"

Hitoshi took your hand and started pulling you away from the woman, as you were getting closer.

"Calm down, it's fine. I'm used to it."

"Well you shouldn't be! It's people like this that create the villains in this society. Not everyone is as stubborn as you, hearing that you're going to be a villain based on nothing but something you can't control would break someone enough and have then actually turn into a villain!"

You looked at the woman in absolute rage and disgust.

"I hope you're proud of yourself."

Shota Aizawa

He someone who not only grew up with a non flashy quirk, but also is a hero without a flashy quirk. Barely anyone knows who he is because of that, as well as his underground career. While that's a good thing, all things considered, he was and is still a victim of hero society's discrimination

Shota doesn't like UA's entrance exam because it's impractical, and we know he knows that the bias allows for talented potential heroes to slip through because they're not flashy or physically strong. He would have first hand knowledge of this since it almost happened to him.

You, on the other hand, weren't a hero. At least not one like him. You helped people like him know that they're still able to become heroes, no matter what other may say about their quirks and he loved you for it.

"He might not have a strong physical quirk that allows for flashy moves to appeal to an audience, but that doesn't mean he isn't useful, or powerful."

You two were on a date when a fan, if you could even call him that, had walked up to Shota and started asking questions. All was okay until he asked if he ever felt bad for not being as powerful or useful as someone like All Might or Endeavor.

"Yeah, but he's-"

"His own person with his own accomplishments that you probably never even heard about because the media didn't care enough. He's worth so much more than a fancy quirk and a camera ready smile. Now, go back to whatever you were doing, we are busy."

Shota chuckled and allowed you to pull him along.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Doesn't matter, you are an amazing hero and I don't appreciate anyone saying otherwise because of something so stupid as a flashy quirk. Especially when they compare you to fucking Endeavor of all people!"

Fatgum/Toyomitsu Taishiro

Toyomitsu has a quirk that, on the surface, doesn’t seem very useful for hero work. I imagine that he was made very aware of that growing up, and even as he debuted as a hero.

Not to mention that his quirk, when activated, makes body shape turn into an almost oval, vague snowman shape so that might have set some people off. For such a friendly guy, that would have been a cause for insecurity at one point seeing as he genuinely wants people to be happy.

You were someone who never saw him like that and held him through tougher nights when the media got too harsh on him. You were even someone not afraid to get in front of a reporter’s camera and tear them a new one.

“What kind of a ridiculous question is that?”

It was a few weeks after his debut and some people were still mocking him for his quirk. On the surface, fat absorption didn’t seem like much and for someone who doesn’t know Toyo- excuse me- Fatgum (he’s a hero now, you thought proudly), it might even seem useless. But you knew better, and you thought that it was about time others did too.

“Just because Fatgum’s quirk isn’t flashy and destructive, it doesn’t mean he should feel inadequate next to someone who does have one like that, and I don’t appreciate you insinuating that he should.”

The reporter recoiled slightly, and tried to stutter out a response.

“I'm- I'm not-!"

"Fatgum is already an amazing hero, and he's only going to get better. So you can take your prejudice and find a new job because clearly being a reporter is not a good field for you!"

"Sugar, it's okay!" Fatgum placed his hand on your shoulder and smiled. "I'm just going to have to prove them wrong!"

His cheery demeanor was enough to calm you down a bit, but still you couldn't resist shooting the chastised reporter a sharp glare, causing them to shrink back. You smirked at the sight.

"You already have."

#bnha #bnha x reader #shoji mezo #shoji x reader #hitoshi shinso #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro x reader #tw discrimination #slight angst #but not much

646 notes · View notes

yhwhsdaughter · 4 years ago

Text

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo testuro #hinata shouyou #osamu miya #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu yachi #oikawa torū #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #osamu x reader #tanaka x reader #oikawa x reader #yachi x reader

363 notes · View notes

assemble-revengers · 3 years ago

Text

Nexus Split

**Contains spoilers for Loki**

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Prompt: “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Author’s Note: I woke up and chose violence today.

Time was hard to grasp before this whole mess began, but it at least had some structure regardless of how ethereal it seemed. There was structure and a time and place and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time so it seemed when you also made a move to snatch up the Tesseract the second you saw Loki move in New York. That’s how you got into this mess and honestly there were many things you had regretted initially. For instance, why couldn’t you have minded your own business?

Well, if you had you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet Loki, and at the moment? That felt worth more than anything. It hadn’t started that way -- the two of you were practically at each other’s throats and when you weren’t bickering between each other you were being confused by the politics of the TVA and time in general.

In a wild turn of events you became an unpaid intern all over again. You supposed it was better than dying or “being pruned”. You still were confused as ever by the lingo and even though you had tried your best to pay attention to the onboarding process, but frankly you were still wrapping your head around the prospect of the TVA in general. How had no one even considered this being a possibility? Where did these people come from? It seemed that it just...was? But if that was the case, why was there an onboarding process?

Miss Minutes was terrifying -- she was just so...eerie and popped up randomly and honestly you just wanted a nap. Or to wake up from this bizarre dream.

The worst part was the notion of running into other variants, namely the fact that a variant that had been targeting members of the TVA happened to be a Loki-variant.

“Wonderful,” you retorted, interrupting Mobius with disdain, “There’s another one of him.”

The aforementioned god was sitting across a table from you and you weren’t entirely sure how he was taking the whole thing. According to him, the tesseract was useless here. A paper weight. Another beyond weird thing that the TVA brought.

“We should team up,” a voice interrupted your spacing out and it took you a moment to realize that the voice belonged to Loki. And he was talking to you.

You blinked a few times incredulously, “You have been nothing but cruel to me since we met. Why would I ever help you?” Honestly, the audacity of men.

“I am sorry about that, by the way,” he answered, “I was going through something.”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out, covering your mouth immediately to try to mute the sound and avoid any more attention. “Aw, that makes it all better.”

There was no reason to hide your sarcasm, and he knew that. You could tell from the way he blanched for a moment before resuming his composure, obviously trying to turn on some godly charm or something onto you, “I was. I truly am sorry.”

“Loki, you stole the Tesseract, tried to take over the world and brought a bunch of crazy alien things into New York City,” you listed, counting off the things on your fingers, “And now because you went after the stupid Tesseract again, with a room full of Avengers I might add, I cannot return to my life which wasn’t that impressive, but at this moment? I kind of miss it. So, no, I don’t accept your apology.” He was silent after that and you went back to your mind palace spiraling about the logistics of what was happening to you.

It was not a great day for you. Week? Hour? Time was weird. It was even more weird when you were suddenly having to do research into the Loki-variant-assassin. Going through files and files of different instances in time was tedious. It was interesting in that some of the things had already happened, were going to happen, and were happening in places you had never even heard of. It was during this that you and Loki had begun to work more collaboratively.

In fact, the moment you guys had made the connection that it was apocalypses? You taught the god of mischief the importance of a high five. Or rather, never leaving someone hanging because you chased him down, yelling at him until he returned the high five before you even allowed him to present your findings to Mobius. The bond continued when you both were treated like unhinged criminals or starved, ravenous animals by pretty much everyone other than Mobius who was...friendly as ever.

You did not have a lot of options in terms of trust. While Mobius seemed genuine, there was no way you could possibly know. The issue was that the only thing that was any level of normal in your eyes was Loki which was...laughable, but he was from your timeline. The two of you were in this together sort of because at this point you wanted to go home and it seemed he did too after the whole semantics of this whole thing. Or maybe he wanted to take over the TVA. Regardless, it gave you some hope that he might be kind and put you into your timeline where you belong.

The feelings came out of nowhere. In fact, you hadn’t even realized it happened until there was a chance for you both to chase after the Loki-variant (or Sylvie as you would learn later) and before Loki went through the portal, he reached a hand out for you, Mobius yelling and you found your feet moving on their own accord, turning to mouth ‘Sorry’ to Mobius before grabbing Loki’s hand and rushing through the portal.

Sylvie was interesting and endearing and was someone you instantly found yourself drawn to. You felt sympathetic to her story, and maybe that was dangerous. Dangerous, but gave you another sliver of hope despite the fact things were bleak. Very bleak. Being on Lamentis-1 about to explode and everyone die bleak. Despite this, the two of you sat and chatted in your booth at the bar while Loki got absolutely hammered and even began to softly serenade you in what you assumed was Asgardian (this was after he sung to the whole room) and you found yourself pulling him back down to the chairs and pulling him into a hug while you laughed.

“Loki, I have no idea what you’re saying,” you giggled, pulling away from him, “But I think you’ve had enough.”

“Darling, I think I’m just getting started,” he answered with the smoothness of butter on a hot pancake. You couldn’t help the burning of your ears and the rest of the blush that began to dance across your features. Sylvie coughed. Moment interrupted (Thankfully? You don’t know). Back to the business of the world ending and no way out. Maybe that’s what let all of you decide to unload tales of the past. Yours was boring and...uneventful comparatively which led you to remain relatively quiet as both Loki and Sylvie talked.

Hearing all of Sylvie’s plight and what brought her to that moment had both you and Loki feeling empathetic. You felt anger that this whole this was allowed and deemed ‘okay’ by the TVA. An entity that really had no checks and balances as far as you could see. You pretended to ignore Sylvie and Loki bonding. You felt your stomach tighten. Envy was ugly and green really was never your color.

But that triggered the TVA rolling up and taking the three of you back. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t expecting yourself to start fighting. Your restraints, the situation, the fact you were separated from Sylvie and more importantly Loki. You were utterly alone in your cell, screaming for them to let you out. The person interrogating you entered, tried asking you questions that you just couldn’t hear. Your head was swimming and it was almost as if you were hearing things like you were underwater. Fight or flight and apparently your entire being chose to fight.

Per someone’s orders you were moved, you lit up the moment you saw Loki and soon you were joined by Sylvie. Your restraints were removed and your eyes began watering as you rushed to Loki’s side, grabbing his hand as he gave yours a reassuring squeeze, moving so that he was shielding you from the front. The next thing you knew and before you had a moment to process, Mobius was pruned in front of you and Loki moved to shield you further.

Surprisingly, you were not entirely useless in the fight that ensued, but couldn’t help but feel entirely out of your element. The closest you had ever been to being in a fight in the past was when you were five and some girl stole your crayons and had the nerve to try to eat them.

Your adrenaline was pumping when you turned to Loki a feeling like being shocked by a plug while also being burned by a pan that had been on the stove. You were confused, Loki was yelling something. You couldn’t hear. You reach for him, desperate to calm him down or maybe it was because you subconsciously knew what was happening and you were terrified. The hot, electric feeling spread across your body before what felt like you were dropped in ice cold water and suddenly...your eyes blinked awake. You weren’t at the TVA.

Instead, you found yourself on the run (you hated yourself for missing out on all that gym time because your cardio could use some work) from a cloud that ate things. You would learn that you were in The Void, the evil vacuum of the cloud was called Alioth, and that there were even more Loki variants. One was an alligator. He was your favorite.

Your Loki also turned up and you practically threw yourself into his arms in relief, “I thought I lost you, you idiot.”

“I could say the same to you, pet,” he responded, murmuring into the crook of your shoulder. Reunions had to be cut short after you introduced the other variants, (“And this Loki is an alligator! How cool is that! He’s my favorite of all of you, no offense.”) and now you were seeking shelter to hide from Alioth and...well survive you supposed.

President Loki and the other Lokis were...a lot. In fact, there were so many Lokis that you were beginning to get a tension headache trying to keep up with everything that was going on. Some of them seemed to recognize you, including President Loki that informed you that you were late and with the wrong people (“No? I don’t even know who you are?” “You will.”)

Reuniting with Sylvie and Mobius brought even more relief. Sylvie seemed to think she could enchant the Alioth. You protested quite a bit before she was able to convince you otherwise. There was a way out. You had a chance to go back to the TVA and sort things with Mobius. Maybe go back to where you belong. Maybe stay. You weren’t sure, but it seemed Loki, your-Loki was hesitating.

Mobius was opening the portal behind you to the TVA. You stood with your hand firmly within Loki’s, fingers interlaced as you bid Sylvie a small, quiet ‘good luck, you’ve got this’. You and Loki were right by the portal, a sliver from stepping in before Loki stops, pulling you so that you two were facing each other, your back to the portal.

“What’s wrong?” you ask concerned.

“I’m staying,” Loki affirms, “To help Sylvie, to...do this.”

“Okay,” you lament. You were staying too. You tried to move to leave the portal Loki gave Mobius a heartfelt hug, which ended up being a group hug since Loki wouldn’t let go of you. In fact, as soon as Mobius was released from the hug, you were engulfed into Loki’s arms where you practically melted. The hug ended far too soon, but Loki didn’t release you, holding your face in his hands as he pressed his forehead to yours. It made your heart warm and peace washed over you.

“Loki…” you sigh, feeling an entire lifetime of emotions flooding your system, “I…”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, “I know. I feel the same...but I can’t bear to hear it.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You inquire, voice cracking. You felt frozen in place as panic began to bubble up under your skin.

“Because you’re not staying with me,” he murmurs weakly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Remember that, please.”

Before you could respond, you were shoved by a great force. You couldn’t even react as your grip was easily broken, your sense of balance knocked out from under you. Mobius had already stepped through the portal...surely it wasn’t still up? You landed on the ground, having been knocked off your feet, but you were no longer in the void.

You felt your heart shattering. You couldn’t even cry. He was gone.

#loki x you #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #mcu x you #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

51 notes · View notes

arhvste · 4 years ago

Note

can you maybe do some hcs w kuroo tsukishima and oikawa when their s/o is being bullied by people from school?

love me some savage haikyuu boys 😈

KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND OIKAWA REACTING TO THEIR S/O BEING BULLIED

KUROO

kuroo is a perspective little shit

he analysis’ anything and everything

he isn’t called the scheming captain for nothing

so when he notice’s his s/o feeling down or acting different from normal he will find out what’s bothering them

he’ll ask you first

and if you’re not willing to give clear answers he’ll just find out himself

he doesn't want to overstep privacy boundaries

but if you’re being upset by something he feels like it’s his duty as your boyfriend to sort it out

so one day you’re waiting for him after practice

and you both usually meet outside the gym doors to talk home together

however

this time you’ve unfortunately encountered the people who have been making school life unbearable for you

“look its stupid little y/n!”

“why are you still here? waiting for your boyfriend like some sort of lost dog?”

“i don’t know how he puts up with you”

“so clingy and desperate for support i feel so bad for him”

they have you cornered and you’re outnumbered by far

kuroo has been waiting outside the gym doors for 5 minutes now and is confused

you’re never ever late

so he wanders around looking for you since you aren't answering your phone

now kuroo is annoying but he isn’t stupid

he’s had a hunch about what’s been bothering you lately

he’s noticed a few kids often hang behind class until you leave and they seem to surround you when you’re trying to leave your classroom

he never intervened because he didn’t want to wrongly accuse them of harassing you in case you were friends with them

but you still didn’t look particularly thrilled when you got away from them

so kuroo hears some familiar voices and he heads straight over to them

“don’t cry y/n you don't want to look even more ugly than you already do”

“oh look y/n’s crying they can't even handle a few jokes”

“your boyfriend might even dump you when he sees you”

“the only ones who need dumping are all of you into a pit of fire 🥰”

there stands the 6′2, muscular built, powerhouse school national level volleyball captain with the coldest look he’s ever had

the kids surrounding you are dead silent

“what? nobodies got anything to say now? i thought we were all just laughing and joking with each other so why’d we stop now?”

kuroos eyes soften as soon as they meet yours

he’s grabbed your hand and pulled you tightly into his chest

“i don't think much of a warning needs to be made but let me make this clear just this once because i don't like having to remind people things, come near her, approach, talk about or to her again and you’re going to have a personal problem with me and my team. got it?”

lmfao the little bitches nod trembling and run 🏃🏽‍♀️

kuroo is such a science nerd who makes awful jokes and has the worlds most obnoxious laugh

but he’s also a man and a captain and sometimes it’s easy to forget that

he can pick and choose when and what he wants to be perceived as

and right then he has chosen to show you who he really can be

“why didn’t you tell me angel?”

“i didn’t want to have to bother you”

“oh baby you’re never ever a bother to me. im sorry i couldn't help sooner please never hesitate to tell me if anything like this happens again”

kuroo’s warning sticks with your bullies and they don't bother you anymore

the volleyball team and coach nekomata are throwing dirty ass looks at them too nfjdsbfjs

all in all, kuroo just wants you to know he is there to support you

and he’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and comfortable

TSUKISHIMA

lmao all i’ve got to say to your bullies is good luck

because if tuski finds out you’ve been bullying his s/o

you’re done for

this boy has no mercy

he doesn't even need to physically fight

his words can cut deeper than any knife and he knows it

so when he notices you've been feeling more anxious around school and clinging to him a little more

he grows sus

he’s immediately closing in on who is bothering you and what insults he wants to throw at them

tuski has an exam and it runs a little into lunch

he told you that if it runs over than you can just wait by your classroom and he’d come and get you

however while you’re waiting you have a run in with the students who have been giving you a hard time

just like tuski you’re a student who thrives in academics

so a few of your classmates aren't particularly fond of your constant reign of lead in your class

“ew y/n you gross weirdo why are you here?”

“they’re probably waiting for their boyfriend to come and pick them up”

“such an entitled little shit, waiting to be collected who do you think you are”

so far you’d done pretty well ignoring them

but that was in an environment with many other students who’d call your bullies out if they were to step out of line in class

right now you’re an easy target though

nobody to protect you

well that’s what you thought anyway

you feel your bag get snatched from your hands and thrown to the ground

the bullies are kicking your stuff around laughing while you have no choice but to watch is despair

that's until one of them is tripped up and lands face flat onto the ground

“you think i should kick them around and see if they can take it?”

tuski is standing there with a dark smile on his face

“so brave of you to pick on my y/n when you all have the audacity to look the way you do and don't even get me started on your academics”

“if i were you'd just apologise to your parents now because realistically what are you all going to do in your lives? success doesn't really look like it fits any of you to be honest”

the other students don't even know what to say

they can't exactly say anything

tsukishima is known to have a sharp tongue with an endless flow of direct insults

“it’d be a shame if a teacher were to find out about this wouldn't it. im thinking suspension maybe? perhaps you should all call your parents up right now and apologise for your inevitable suspension”

the bullies look at each other nervously

he couldn’t be serious right

“im waiting”

these kids whip out their phones and are calling their confused parents trying to explain about how they could be suspended

“now off you all go, get out of my sight and don't you dare come near her again”

they be sprinting out the hallways

“you weren’t actually gonna get them suspended were you?”

“it was depending on how fast they called their parents really”

tsukishima is on the floor helping you gather you trashed things

“im annoyed you didn't tell me. don't keep things like this from me yeah? cause not only am i here for you but, i get a kick out of it to. besides, im the only one who gets to be playfully mean to you.”

and he’ll make sure to keep a closer eye on you and keep you around him for a little longer just till he’s certain you’ve been left alone

OIKAWA

fangirls

the absolute bane of his existence

oikawa appreciated the support but it was overbearing sometimes

especially when he just wants to spend time with his precious y/n-chan

in front of him, his fangirls would be so polite and supportive

“you and y/n look so good together”

“i hope you’re treating them well”

“oikawa is is lucky”

but behind his back these girls were nothing but vicious and spiteful towards you

you knew you’d have to deal with his fangirls at some point

you’d decided to keep your relationship hidden for the first few months until oikawa suggested going public and you felt like you couldn’t say no

you’d hear comments as you walked through the halls

classes would’ve been a nightmare if iwaizumi wasn’t in your class

he knew you were struggling with oikawa’s fangirls but you pleaded him not to say anything to his best friend

iwaizumi didn't exactly want to keep this from oikawa but he also didn't want to go against your wishes

you compromised instead and told iwaizumi about everything the fangirls put you through and sometimes he’d even take it lightly into his own hand

despite the fact you had oikawa’s best friend looking out for you, this was also a reason the bullying got worse

“you think you can get iwaizumi to back you up now? you want the whole team or what?”

yes

“stop being so overdramatic oikawa shouldn’t have to put up with someone as fragile as you”

“he can do so much better did you manifest or do witchcraft to get him to date you?”

the comments had become so common to you they started to have no effect

you slowly became more and more emotionally unavailable and this was something oikawa had started to pick up on

“y/n-chan you’ve stopped smiling at me so much. have i upset you?”

at first he’d think he did something wrong and he’d desperatly rack his brain for anything he could’ve done to offend you

“no you haven’t tooru i’ve just been tired lately”

you’d lie and give him a small fake smile

but oikawa has given enough fake smiles in his life and is more than capable of being able to tell a real smile to a fake one

like kuroo though, he wouldn’t want to push any privacy boundaries and can only hope you’d open up to him soon

it doesn’t mean he’s not going to be watching you even closer now

he’ll ask iwaizumi whether he’s seen a change in your behaviour

iwaizumi has finally decided this has gone too far

“idiot do you not see it’s your shitty fangirls that are making them miserable?”

“my fangirls?”

“yes your fangirls. y/n can’t catch a break with them around they’re really nasty to her and i don’t know how it’s taken you so long to see”

now that oikawa thinks about it you do cling to him a little tighter when they’re around

you don’t thank them for their ‘compliments’ about your relationship with the setter

you go extremely quiet and anxious when they’re around

oikawa had just thought it was nerves from sudden attention

he didn’t realise they had been secretly harassing you

so oikawa goes to wait outside your locker when the day ends

“tooru shouldn't you be at practice?”

“come with me” he says sternly but he’s giving you a reassuring look as he grips your hand securely in his larger one

he walks you quickly through the halls and round to the entrance of the gym where his fangirls are usually waiting for practice to start

“oikawa-san! why aren’t you in uniform? is practice cancelled?”

“oh y/n is here... that's cute”

oikawa is beyond livid just from their presence alone

they even had the nerve to say your name?

“you know what isn’t fucking cute though? your disgusting behaviour”

the fangirls are look between each other innocently

“what do you mean oikawa-san?”

“don’t play oblivious with me you bitches! what was going through your heads when you all thought it was okay to harass MY y/n-chan?!”

the girls are silent now

oikawa is usually so charming and relaxed

nobody sees him worked up outside the court

“there’s a reason none of you have even been allowed to be considered to have the chance to get to know me, you’re all fake. every single one of you. i hate fake people more than anything. this behaviour is gross i want none of you associated with me get out of here and if i hear one more thing about anyone upsetting y/n hell will be broken loose and that won’t just be from me.”

oikawa did not stutter 😌

king

the girls leave immediately

“i think you’ve just lost yourself your whole fan club”

“oh y/n they were never fans if they have the nerve to upset someone they know i love. why didn’t you tell me i would’ve said something sooner”

“i just didn't want to upset you about your fans”

“you’re always going to be the first priority to me always if they or anyone else ever bothers you again, promise you’ll tell me straight away?”

“promise.”

after that he’ll take you to sit on the bench on the side of the court so you can watch him play and he can keep an eye on you

yeah oikawa may seem like a carefree people pleaser

but if you’re upsetting his s/o, you’ll be experiencing the side he tries to keep under control and he won’t be afraid to let loose.

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo hcs #kuroo scenario #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima scenarios #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa hcs #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

630 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 4 years ago

Text

Under The Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part 2 // Itachi

Itachi Uchiha

Itachi stands under the little green plant, looking unsettled. It was explained to him that this is “just a fun game” but this just seems weird to him. However he doesn’t wish to alienate himself from the group, so he complies.

Deidara

His first instinct is to pull a bomb from his pocket and hurl it straight at Itachi’s lips, because “that’s the only ‘kiss’ the Uchiha bastard deserves, hm!” However he’s talked out of it by Konan who tells him that such a thing would make him a really bad sport. He scowls but accepts it. Itachi murmurs softly “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t wish, Deidara.”; he says it nicely, but Deidara hears it as a challenge. “Ah?! You think I’m scared? You think I won’t kiss you?!” He rushes at Itachi, leans in, and kisses him so aggressively that he accidentally bonks Itachi’s forehead a good one, raising a small bump for both of them. Itachi will just sigh (he really doesn’t understand why, even after all this time, Deidara still seems to hate him so much) and quietly say “Thanks.” Deidara will react immediately, going “Thanks? What the hell are you thanking me for, Uchiha? Don’t tell me you’re in love with me now?” and he’ll keep teasing the brunette until Sasori comes and drags him away.

Sasori

Another person to kiss? Really? Sasori never kissed anyone other than his parents before his transformation, but now it’s gotten out of hand. Nevertheless ... he leans up and gives Itachi a quick peck to the lips. Itachi doesn’t react but Sasori draws back, startled. What is this?? As someone who grew up with a knowledge of herbs and healing, and as someone who makes his own poisons, Sasori has become an expert at identifying various chemicals by a simple taste. But Itachi’s lips tasted ... strange. Something unidentifiable, but Sasori recognizes as dangerous. Itachi is ill; his chemical balance is completely off. A moment passes between them where Sasori almost opens his mouth and questions this, but the look in Itachi’s eyes tell Sasori that he’s very aware that he’s sick ... but intends to do nothing about it. It makes Sasori feel a great deal of sadness; Itachi is a calm, intelligent young man, and a good friend ... but this is his choice. Hidan is nearby and he sees the way Sasori and Itachi are staring at each other, and misinterprets it, saying loudly “Looks like these two went totally gay for each other!”; Sasori lashes out and hits him with a poison dart. After all, no amount of poison will make the white haired nuisance die; but maybe it’ll shut him up for a while.

Hidan

LOUDLY protests against kissing Itachi. He was fine with it when it was Konan, but this ... “I don’t wanna make out with this ugly-ass homo!” But the others tell him he has to. He’ll go into Kakuzu’s room and get his Sake, taking several healthy swigs before coming back out to where Itachi waits. The alcohol hitting him in full effect ((it was clearly more than a FEW swigs)) and starts telling Itachi some pretty awkward things (“Damn wait you’re actually kinda hot; with that long hair you kinda look like a bitch.”) and, grabbing hold of Itachi’s neck, pulls him close and plants a very sloppy open-mouthed kiss on him. The others make noises of disgust; alcohol or not he took it way too far. Hidan has the audacity to try and go for a second kiss before Kakuzu extends his tentacles and grabs him, dragging him away. The others ask Itachi if he minds going to brush his teeth before they have their turns, to which he heartily agrees.

Kakuzu

Two people in and this “game” has already gotten on his nerves. But he likes Itachi; he’s one of the few he’s never had an issue or an argument with. A kiss on the lips would have been beyond strange, so he settles on a light brush on Itachi’s forehead. The others tease him, but Itachi actually enjoyed the gesture; being kissed on the forehead reminded him of the one time in Itachi’s life that his own father did the same, after Itachi successfully learned a new jutsu. It’s a nostalgic feeling and a comforting one, which Itachi will hold on to for the rest of the day. Kakuzu, however, has slightly different feelings. As somebody who knows extensive medical jutsu, he took note of how overly warm Itachi’s forehead was. That, and, looking closely, the pronounced flush of his cheeks. It’s somewhat obvious that Itachi is sick; but Kakuzu has always seen the kid as capable of taking care of himself, so he won’t question Itachi on whatever may be wrong with him. He does, however, make a mental note to start slipping a herbal immune system booster into the tea that Itachi drinks so often.

Konan

Like Itachi did for her, Konan gives Itachi a warm hug, rather than a kiss. Her arms circled around his waist make her aware of how thin he is, how young. It’s so difficult for her to believe that somebody who possesses Itachi’s raw intelligence hasn’t even seen his 25th year of life yet. She tries several times during the embrace to let go, but Itachi is reluctant to release her. As with Kakuzu, Konan’s warmth reminds him of being hugged by his mother, something that he greatly misses. Eventually he does let go, only this time he follows up the hug by kissing HER, gently, on the cheek.

Tobi

“Hiya, Itachi-san! Is it Tobi’s turn to give you a kissy?” Itachi merely nods and watches Tobi approach. Unlike with any of the others, Itachi tenses up, and he has to fight himself on the urge to activate his sharingan. Something about Tobi, this tall, simplistic, childlike fool ... sets off ALL of Itachi’s warning bells. As with Konan, Tobi starts to remove his mask just enough to expose his lips ... but Itachi abruptly holds up his hand, stopping him. “No,” Itachi says quietly, and instead extends his arm for a handshake. Itachi can feel the energy coming off of Tobi; Itachi’s unexpected gesture has left the masked one a mixture of surprise, fear, and ... anger. But Tobi can’t afford to show this, to everyone else in the room who are already confused watching them. “Awww; are ya shy, Itachi-san?”, he’ll ask out-loud, before pumping Itachi’s hand up and down in an exaggerated gesture. He’ll walk away calmly, but inside, he’ll be in turmoil; because in those brief few seconds, Tobi has been able to sense it: Itachi had come within a hair of trying to kill him. Could it be that he’d figured out — but no. No, no. Surely just a mistake, right? Maybe Itachi really WAS shy, and by the time it was Tobi’s turn, his tolerance limits had been reached. A plausible explanation ... but was it the right one?

Zetsu

He sees Itachi standing under the mistletoe and thinks to himself, that man looks delicious. He’s eaten a lot of people in his time, but never once somebody who possessed the sharingan. Would that visual prowess make the meat taste better? His mouth starts to water; Itachi is fairly young and therefore should be soft and delectable. He stands there staring at Itachi until somebody (likely Kisame) asks him what’s up with that weird look on his face. Not wanting the others to think he’s any more of a freak than they already do, he steps up and kisses Itachi’s cheek — and takes the opportunity to flick out his tongue and lick the man’s skin. Saltier than expected, but warm, with a faint scent of tea. He quickly walks away before he loses control, and goes out into the night to find others to fulfill his awakened appetite.

Pein

Pein welcomed Itachi into the Akatsuki when the latter was still a very young man. Over the past few years he’s watched the way he’s grown and matured, and he’s come to think of him almost as one would think of a son. Pein will smooth Itachi’s hair back and lightly kiss his forehead, and then lightly pat his head, before going on his way.

Kisame

He sees Itachi standing there, and his heart jumps into his throat. Itachi ... is a level of light and of perfection that someone like Kisame doesn’t dare to touch. He stands back and watches the others have their turns. He’s gotten to know this man pretty closely these past few years, and can often tell what he’s thinking or feeling just by glancing at his face. Right now, what Itachi was feeling, was Patience. The kissing game is just another thing he’s enduring, not particularly liking or disliking it, simply getting through. Kisame thinks that he should spare Itachi and go quietly to his room, so that Itachi can return to his own. But Itachi sees Kisame start to walk away, and actually calls out to him, stopping him. Hearing his name makes Kisame’s heart thump even faster. But WHY? Itachi was simply his young friend, for goodness sake. An intelligent, thoughtful partner. A — “Hey shark man, you gonna slobber on red-eyes here or what?” Kisame glares at Hidan before walking quickly up to Itachi, he takes a deep breath and leans in to kiss his cheek— but Itachi turns his head at the last second, and Kisame finds their lips are touching. Kisame is not sure of how much time is passing; the clock seems to stand still for this moment. Itachi’s lips are as soft as flower petals, his hair smooth and silky as it brushes against Kisame’s cheek. Itachi eventually breaks the kiss, and, to Kisame’s shock, he’s smiling. Not the smirks or grins that Kisame has come to know, but a real, tooth-bearing smile. Seeing that expression makes Itachi look younger than ever to him, and Kisame ... feels flustered. Although there’s no reason to feel flustered. He’d only shared a kiss with his friend, that’s all. Both of them look at each other a few moments longer and then Itachi, his “sentence” over, says his Goodnights to the members and goes to his room. Eventually Kisame (and everyone else) does the same.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #itachi uchiha #tobi #zetsu #konan #pein #kisame #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori

49 notes · View notes

jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 4 years ago

Text

It Was You (Part Five)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

Catch up here!

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. This chapter and others will fill the square of ‘fake dating’ and this one specifically checks ‘ugly Christmas sweaters’. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3909 (its a longer one, oops)

Series Warnings: cursing, angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff. Chapter warnings: an original character is sort of mean.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

Since you arrived late in the afternoon, you and Jensen had little time to rest before the party began. You stowed your things in your respective rooms in Jared’s home across the hall from one another and found the ugly sweaters Gen had chosen for you.

Jensen tried to peak into your room to see yours, but you shot him a look before you closed the door. “Oh c’mon, Y/n! Let me see!”

“Nope! We get to share in each other’s humiliation together!”

You heard him grunt on the other side of the door before he stomped across the hall and shut his door.

Yours was a bright, Christmassy red with white reindeer and an intricate pattern and overall, kind of cute. She also left you a jingle bell bracelet and earrings, so you quickly changed into a pair of jeans, your sweater, and a pair of black ballet flats. Loosening your hair from the tie, you let it fall and fluffed it a bit and applied a small amount of make-up, before finishing the look with some red lipstick and a small amount of gloss to be festive.

When you opened the door, you were met with a very grumpy looking Jensen. He pouted and gestured to himself, causing you to throw your head back in laughter. His sweater had red sleeves and a collar but had black and white patches with various designs all over, including a poinsettia, a string of lights, and a snowman. He was also wearing dark-wash jeans but had put on his black boots beneath that accentuated his slightly bowed legs. You couldn’t help but melt at the sight – he looked absolutely adorable and his pouty expression reminded you of when you were kids, when you wouldn’t share your ice cream with him after he’d eaten all of his own.

Covering your mouth to quiet your giggling, he put his hands on his hips and gave you a bitch face but softened his features when you told him how cute he looked.

“C’mon though,” he wined. “You look adorable. Your sweater is at least bearable. I look ridiculous.”

Something made you reach out to him, sliding your arms around his trim waist as he wrapped his around you. His dimples reached his cheeks as he smiled at you, a bit flirtatiously.

“Hey,” you reassured. “I’m sure you’re going to be the hit of the party with that outfit. You look great.”

Jensen sighed a deep breath, content to feel your body in his arms, “As long as you think so, sweetheart, I’m happy.”

“I always do.”

You felt that urge again as he glanced at your lips, the fire in your belly hadn’t quelled since that morning. Jensen growled down at you as you bit your lip once more, the noise making your blood rush to all sorts of places. He raised his hand to cup your cheek before tangling it into your hair, his mouth mere inches from yours.

Jared called from out of view at the bottom of the stairs, making your heads snap in the general direction, “Hey, guys! You almost ready? We’ve got your drinks made.”

You could hear some distant chatter, meaning that people had started to arrive. You shared a frustrated smile with Jensen as he pulled his hand from your cheek, grazing it slightly before he let go. You gripped his hand tightly as you led him down the stairs, but he was now pouting for a different reason.

You were met with hugs and smiles as you bounded into the room, Jared and Gen mixing in with the crowd of old friends and new faces. You were introduced to everyone and mingled, straying away from Jensen only slightly. He was chatting with a mutual friend of Jared’s as you socialized with a few of the women from the neighborhood, but each of you kept stealing glances at one another every few moments. Everything had shifted, both suddenly and slowly all at once. Instead of the casual glimpses you’d throw in each other’s direction when you were at a party in the past, which were more of just silent conversations asking if you or he needed saving from the person you were talking to in that moment, the stares tonight were affectionate and heated. It felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and anytime you were within reach, he made some sort of excuse to have his hands on you. Whether it was casually placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you somewhere or brushing your hair from your shoulder, he was constantly touching you in some way. It was comforting and fraying your nerves all at once.

You made your way into the kitchen to freshen your drink and grab a few of the snacks that Gen had made. She always pulled out all the stops for her parties and tonight was no different. She’d made a gigantic charcuterie board that expanded across their entire kitchen island, full of a variety of meats, cheeses, crackers, sauces, fruits and veggies. You filled your dish and grabbed a napkin and your drink before making your way back out to the living area where everyone was gathered, saying hi to a few people that passed by you.

Setting your drink down beside you, you picked through your plate as you began talking with Gen’s college roommate about the random happenings in Austin when Jensen’s form caught your eye. He was talking to someone who had their back turned to you, but she looked familiar though you couldn’t quite place how until she turned to wave at someone, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. It was Melanie. She was one of those people who always showed up to Jared and Gen’s parties and that everyone knew, but no one really cared for. She was very open about the fact that she was trying to up her social status in town and was anxious to settle down with someone who could help her do so. She paid to get into all the right clubs and have all the right things, but the hunger and greed radiated from her. Granted, to each their own and you wouldn’t normally judge, but you knew why she was being so chummy with Jensen. You felt a pang of jealousy that he was being his usual, charming self with her, chuckling when she told him a joke. His eyes scanned the room before they landed on you and his smile lit up his features, but when Melanie placed her hand on his forearm his attention went back to her. She was trim and beautiful on the outside and you couldn’t help but feel a bit protective and bitter that she was trying to sink her claws into Jensen, and so a bit of doubt flowed through your mind that he would want someone like you.

Jensen internally groaned when Melanie started another conversation about her macrobiotic diet as her acrylic nails drummed against her glass, praying that she would take a breath so that he could excuse himself. He let his mind wander to Y/n for a moment, anxious to be done with this party so that he could be alone with her again. He needed to know what she was feeling about them… and couldn’t wait to find out. His attention shot back to Melanie when he heard her shrill giggle and she asked, “So, are you seeing anyone?”

He knew that look. She’d given him that look plenty of times before – she plastered on a coy smile, trying to seem sexy as she batted her eyes up at him.

“Well…” he began, but paused, which Melanie took as an opportunity to shoot her shot.

“If you’re not, we should go out sometime. I know this great little club downtown that—”

Jensen held his hand up to stop her gently, “I’m sorry to if I gave you that impression, Melanie, but I’m spoken for.” He said firmly, and he meant it. She wouldn’t be his type on any given day, but he also knew he didn’t want to see anyone else anymore. At least not until he explored things with Y/n.

Melanie seemed taken aback, and almost offended. She turned her nose up slightly and scoffed before jutting her chin in the direction where Y/n was sitting. “Well, have you told her? She’s going to be a bit disappointed when she finds out.”

Jensen felt anger rise in his chest, his features contorting into a deep scowl, more at the fact that Melanie even had the audacity to mention Y/n, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Jay.” Don’t call me that, his mind roared. “She’s been clinging to your heals for as long as I’ve known you.” You don’t know me, she does. “You two have been in the news lately and everyone’s always questioned how close the two of you were.” You have no idea. “It’s not like she fits in here, you know.” She said disapprovingly as she glared in your direction, making Jensen’s blood boil.

He cleared his throat loudly, making Melanie jerk to face him in surprise. When she looked at him, he had a fire in his eyes that made her swallow thickly, but he kept his voice calm as he spoke, “Honestly, Melanie? Who I am or am not seeing is frankly none of your business, nor is it anyone else’s. And Y/n?” he motioned to where you were still seated, “No one compares to her. She’s the most beautiful and caring person I’ve ever met. She’d give anyone the shirt off of her back and she deeply cares about other people, not about what they can do for her. You could learn a thing or two from her.” He barked, moving to step away from her. “She’s one of the only true friends I have in this world, and I’ll be damned if I hear her name out of your mouth again.” With that, he left her standing with her mouth agape and waves of emotion rolling off of him.

Jared eyed Jensen heading for his back patio, looking more pissed than he’d ever seen him. He caught Y/n’s worried eyes and gestured that he’d go, following him as he weaved through the crowd. He found Jensen gripping the railing, steam radiating from him as his knuckles turned white.

“Hey, man. You okay? What happened?” Jared called, noting the tension in his shoulders.

Jensen huffed, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the party, “Melanie.”

“Yeah? What’d she say?”

“Just something about Y/n. It pissed me off.”

Jared crossed his arms, immediately becoming concerned. You were one of his closest friends as well, so he wasn’t about to stand idly by if Melanie was talking about you, “What the hell did she say?” he asked, his own anger growing.

“She was trying to ask me out. When I told her I was seeing someone, she made a smart-ass remark about Y/n, talking about how her and I are always together and that she didn’t fit in.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jared’s voice rose. “She belongs here more than anyone else! Especially Melanie. That bitch wouldn’t know shit about fitting in.”

“I know. She’s insane.”

Jared had already made up his mind to say something to Melanie, but his focus was on his best friend at the moment, “Try not to let it bother you, okay? I know you have your fears about what’s going on with Y/n, but her fitting in isn’t even a question.”

Jensen nodded, “Nah, it’s definitely not… and that’s not even what bothered me the most.”

“I know.” Jared empathized, “We always get defensive about people we love.”

Love. Jensen smiled a bit at the word, and Jared caught it. He clapped him on the shoulder, Jensen returning the sentiment, before Jared his way back inside and immediately seeking out Melanie. When he couldn’t find her, he assumed she’d left and he was more than happy to see her go. She wouldn’t be on the guest list of anything else he had a hand in any time soon.

Y/n ventured outside in search of Jensen, abandoning her glass in the kitchen. He was leaning his elbows against the railing with his shoulders slumped. He didn’t look as upset as he had before Jared came out, but she could tell he was still angry about something.

“Jay? You okay?”

He turned towards her, his green eyes shimmering in the dim light casting from inside. He actually looked sad, more so than angry. “Hey sweetheart, I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really. Melanie’s just an ass.”

“Well, yeah… I could’ve told you that.” You laughed, making him smile a bit.

He pulled you to him, circling his arms around your shoulders as you rested your head on his chest. The gesture was welcome, but it worried you all the same. You ran your hands on his back, feeling him take a sigh of release and letting the tension melt from him. He rested his cheek on your head, inhaling that floral scent once again.

After a moment, you eyed him from your place under his arm, “You sure you’re alright? Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

Jensen smiled to himself again. That was one of the things he loved about you. It was a humble question, but it was very meaningful to him. You always tried to care for him in the simplest ways, even if it was just being there, and no one could comfort him the way you could.

“I’m fine, Y/n/n.”

You pursed your lips, but didn’t press, “Okay. Do you want to stay out here a bit longer? Or go back into the party?”

“We can head back in.” he said, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Of course, honey. I’m always here if you need me, okay?”

“I know.”

He already knew it, but he’d never get tired of hearing it. He walked back into the party with his hand securely bound around your waist, not caring about the wandering eyes and looks. That was the point of the original arrangement anyway, right? To make people talk? These were people, and they were talking. Now, though, the arrangement didn’t matter. He was holding you because he wanted to, and he wanted everyone to know just who he was here with.

He steered you towards the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey, taking a long sip as you accepted a glass of champagne from someone that was passing them around to all the attendants.

Jared and Gen were standing together in their large living room as they called everyone’s attention, “Everyone!” Jared’s voice boomed over the noise and the soft carols playing in the background. He raised his glass of champagne in a toast, “We just wanted to thank you all for coming out tonight. We think of you all as family and couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate the holidays than with everyone here. Our lives are blessed, so thank you. Merry Christmas everyone, and happy holidays!” Gen acknowledged to everyone in the room as she smiled brightly, tucked beneath Jared’s arm.

You and Jensen were huddled beneath the doorframe that entered their kitchen, your back lightly pressed into his chest as you both sipped from your glasses.

“Uh oh!” A loud voice sounded behind you, causing a few people to look your way. “Looks like someone found the mistletoe!”

You searched the crowd, trying to find who the man was talking about, but found that everyone was looking at you. You and Jensen both glanced up at the same time to find you were standing beneath the small plant that had been tied to the mantel with a red ribbon.

You looked at him wide-eyed but remembered that the two of you had an arrangement to appear as a couple. He raised an eyebrow, and when you nodded up to him, a flirty smile graced his lips. His hands came to cradle your face, with yours coming to rest on his forearms as you peered up at him.

Before he could question himself, he laid a feather light kiss against your lips and your eyes fluttered closed. It was quick and enticing, making your nerves stand on end. When you moved to wrap your arms around him, he deepened the kiss, the cheers and clinking of glasses a dull whirl in his ears. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest and your skin tingled and buzzed, lit aflame at the slightest touch. It felt like every fiber of your body had sparked to life as his fingers danced across your skin and his lips molded to yours, laying small but deep kisses against them. He pulled away but kept you in his embrace, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “We’ll continue this later.” He promised, his voice deep and smooth.

You smiled up at him as you laced your fingers with his that still rested against your cheek, “Yes, please.” You breathed.

Everyone around you had gone back to chatting or eating, ignoring the two people still standing beneath the mistletoe, except for Jared. He’d initially been worried when his old friend Cole had outed that the two of you were under the mistletoe, but now he was grinning from ear to ear, knowing that he just witnessed something special for his two best friends. When he met Jensen’s eyes over the crowd, he jerked his head to the side, signaling that the two of you should leave with a slight smirk.

Jensen shot him a wink and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards Jared’s front door and you gladly followed on unsteady feet, but still feeling as though you could float if needed.

“Hey, Jensen?” you heard a voice call.

It was Melanie again, and Jensen’s grip tightened on you as you shot her a glare.

She stayed a distance away with a guilty but remorseful expression, “I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t have any right to say what I said. I’m sorry.”

Jensen’s hold softened, and he gave her a curt nod, “Thanks.”

She gave a gentle smile and added, “You’re right. I could learn a bit from her.” Before she ducked behind the banister, making her way out of the house and to her car.

You looked to Jensen with a questioning gaze, but he shook his head and gave your hand another reassuring squeeze, “I’ll tell you later, okay? I don’t want to think about it right now.”

He pulled you around to the side of Jared’s house, where there was a large garden and strings of lights illuminating the area. Tugging you towards him, he rounded on you to back you against the brick. You weren’t entirely surprised when he caged you within his arms and leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“Y/n.” he breathed, “Is this okay?”

Not trusting your own voice, you nodded.

“Sweetheart, I told you I’d never do anything to ruin our friendship, but I’m afraid I might be about to.”

Even standing in his embrace, the words made a wave of fear course through you and Jensen saw it flash in your eyes. “You’re my best friend, Y/n/n. You’ve been there for me through everything and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side, and I hope what I’m about to say won’t change that.”

With a trembling voice, you asked, “What is it, Jay?”

He tangled his hands into your hair, holding the base of your neck in his palms, “I can’t think of you as just my best friend anymore. I tried. I can’t do it. You’re so much more, Y/n. So, so much more.”

You released a relieved breath, smiling with tears in your eyes as you took his face in your hands, feeling his scruff beneath them. He closed the distance between you even further, pressing his body into yours so that you could feel every ripple of strength and softness that his build provided. Slowly, torturously, he leaned down and gently grazed your lips with his.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you carefully kissed him in return. After a single touch, he pulled back, almost desperately asking for permission. His eyes shown with a mixture of affection and desire as he silently searched your features for any sign of hesitancy. When you nodded up at him, he pressed himself against you and kissed you with more need, his plump lips puzzling to yours with ease.

Jensen’s tongue ran across your lower lip, opening you to him as you gasped into his mouth, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you grasped his shirt in your fists. His hand traveled along the hem of your sweater, lifting it slightly to press his palm against the small of your back, creating chills as the heat sunk into your skin against the chill of the Texas December.

You stayed outside for a while, simply exploring each other in a way you’d never had, with bodies entwined and hands searching out every inch. When you heard people loudly making their way towards their cars and pulling from Jared’s driveway, you returned to the house hand in hand. Jared and Gen were cleaning up the kitchen but stopped when you came through the door. With reddened cheeks and huge grins, there was no denying what you two had been discovering in the depths of their backyard.

You began to help them clean up, you and Jensen hip to hip as you washed and dried the dishes, still beaming at one another.

“So, how’s the ‘fake dating’ thing going, you two?” Gen quipped.

Jensen winked at her, “It may have started as fake, but it’s real now. At least for me it is.”

“Me too... but you and I can talk about that more later.” you said giddily, adding the last part just for him.

Jared spoke up, apologizing for earlier, “I’m sorry about Cole and the, you know, mistletoe.” He said, pointing to the incriminating doorframe.

You laughed and patted his arm for reassurance as Jensen shrugged beside you, “It wasn’t exactly how I wanted our first kiss to happen, but I’m happy it did.” He said, his eyes bright and happy. You didn’t miss that he had thought about your first kiss before that, so you noted to ask him about it later.

The rest of the night was spent laughing and talking with your best friends before the two of you excused yourself to bed. You had a drive to Dallas tomorrow, and your parents were expecting you for lunch.

Jared and Gen each gave you both a hug goodnight and watched you retreat up the stairs, giving each other a high five when you were out of sight.

When you reached your door, Jensen shuffled nervously.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked shyly.

His chest visibly rose and fell as his eyes darkened, but a gentle chuckle left his lips, “Of course I do, Y/n… but I don’t want to move things too fast.”

You giggled, opening the door to your room, “We’re not, Jay. I’m just talking about a sleepover.” You winked, happy when his eyes lit up.

He grabbed his pajamas and changed before meeting you in your room, sighing as he tucked himself underneath the covers and pulling you by your hips to meet his. You fell asleep to the rhythm of his breath in your ear and the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feeling both of your hearts beat along with one another.

To be continued...

………………………………………………………………………………

Tags below (if your tag is strikethrough, it wouldn’t let me use it):

It was you

@440mxs-wife @beabutterfly987 @cookiechipdough @greenarrowhead @peaches007 @supernatural-love14 @traceyaudette @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @thevelvetseries @urmbecky

Forevers:

@acortez82 @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @atc74 @blackcherrywhiskey @busybee612 @caitsymichelle13 @deansbabymomma @deansenwackles @deanssweetheart23 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @empyreanwritings @geeksareunique @gh0stgurl @heyitscam99 @hhiggs @jackburtonsays @janicho88 @jfrank1048 @jotink78 @maddiepants @mogaruke @mrswhozeewhatsis @nerdstackular @nerdysandwichqueen @okay-okay18 @our-jensen-ackles-love @prompt-and-circumstances @samsgirl93 @sandlee44 @sister-winchesters99 @snffbeebee @spnbaby-67 @supernatural3002 @titty-teetee @topthis808 @tardis-is-mine @torn-and-frayed @tranquility-or-chaos @weepingwillowphoenix @winchester-writes @wwaywardwinchester @xtina2191

Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

141 notes · View notes

personasintro · 4 years ago

Text

My Tiny Secret | 16; We Meet Again

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 16; We Meet Again

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

a/n: this is a continuation of the flashback from the previous chapter!

The next day is cloudy, the dark clouds are filling the bright sky while you're waiting inside of the coffee shop. But this time as a customer with a slight frown settled on your face.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Taehyung asks, wiping off the counter while he glances at you with a similar frown to your own.

You had to tell someone about your meeting with Seokjin and Taehyung was the perfect person for it. Considering Hoseok would flip out if you'd tell him you're about to meet some stranger who wants to talk to you about your missing father. Technically, you're the one who wants to talk to him.

You had to message him later in the night, asking about what time you should be waiting for him and his answer was six in the afternoon. The shop is closing in a few minutes and you really hope you're not being played right now. You came a little bit earlier which was probably mistake. You've been sitting on one of the bar stools for the last ten minutes feeling awfully nervous. It's not like it's a date, there's just something about that man that makes you feel like a teen having her first date. Some part of you is scared of him, because he is a still stranger to you. But as you promised, you googled him as soon as you got home. There wasn't much information about him, just some boring articles about how he owns a successful company that sells house estates. There were a few pictures of him from a couple of events but other than that, it seemed like he's a very private man.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine.” you smile at Taehyung, who holds a worried look on his face.

You didn't exactly tell him the whole story about the reason of your meeting with Seokjin, since you're not that close, but you told him enough to know that he has just something you need. Still, he's not stupid and you can see uncertainty behind his worried expression.

“You've my number, if anything happens just call me.”

You smile at that, thanking him right away. Checking the time you see it's exactly six in the afternoon, so you bid goodbye with a reassuring smile to worried Taehyung and make your way outside of the coffee shop. As on cue, a black sport car parks right in front of you causing your brows to furrow in confusion, but that's until the driver's window is rolled down and there's no one else than Kim Seokjin himself sitting in the car.

“You're right on time.” you note, trying not too hard to gawk at the shiny black exterior of the car.

You were never the type to observe cars that much, but even from your lack of knowledge you observe, knowing that car is probably more expensive than the small apartment you live in.

“I'm a man of word,” he tells you, the right corner of his lips twitching at that as you dryly gulp. “Now hop on, we got our reservation.”

You're quick getting into the car, having a fear of closing the door too roughly since most of the men are really sensitive about that. But once they smoothly close, your eyes widen at the interior that matches with the black color. The white lightening decorates the door, illuminating the whole space with a pinch of color while a huge touch screen is in the middle. A scent of leather and his cologne fills the inside and even the roar of the engine, once he drives away, is freaking awesome and hot.

Soft melody resounds from the speakers alongside with a beeping sound that makes your eyebrows furrow. The car stops at the red light and before you can look at Seokjin in confusion by the repeating sound, he's hovering over you as he puts your seat belt on. He smells so fucking good. You gawk at him, ignoring his confident smirk once he pulls away.

“You forgot your seat belt.” he comments, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while the other one rests against the window as he leans onto it.

“Thanks.” you mutter, wanting to roll your eyes at his cocky behavior but all you can do is to look outside of the window, with incredibly fast beating heart.

You're screwed.

You've never felt being so out of place like right now, in the same room with a bunch of people that look like they're from a magazine, causing you to look down at your outfit. You've chosen your best formal dress that you could find in your small wardrobe. You thought they look nice and fancy, until you've seen all those women wearing a designer dress.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks you, holding a door for you as you get into a more private area.

“Yeah, I'm just wondering..” you trail off, quietly thanking him for holding a door for you, before a waiter leads you to your table. “I look so out of place.” you admit, not knowing exactly why are you telling him this.

A few people turned back and stared at him as you both walked in. They probably wonder why a woman like you is with him right now.

“Is that what's bothering you?” he chuckles, sitting down on the opposite side of the table as you put your small purse down.

“Yeah,” you admit, “Just look at me.” you bitterly chuckle, biting your lip.

“I am.” he says slowly, causing you to look at him just to find him staring at you with so much intensity that makes you to look away.

“I've never been in such an expensive restaurant. Why the hell did you pick this one?” you frown, causing him to chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Well, you mentioned something about steaks and this restaurant is known for having the best ones in the city.” he effortlessly answers, snatching the menu from the table while you do the same.

You hide your flushed cheeks behind it, scanning the food with a frown before you see the actual price causing you to silently gasps. Growing embarrassed by your automatic reaction, it's even worse when your menu is being pushed down as you meet Seokjin's eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

You wonder if he makes fun of you, but it's incredibly hard to read him because he barely shows any emotion which makes you frustrated. You've never met a human so interesting, intimidating and strange at the same time. It's just reminder that you don't know this man at all. How come that you feel safe with him?

“Of course, Mr. Kim.” you tell him, snatching the menu again just to hide your face, trying to seem like you're picking your food.

“Seokjin,” he says, pulling down your menu again causing you to annoyingly sigh at him. “Call me Seokjin.”

“I don't know you.” you remind him, causing his lips to twitch.

“Yet, you're here with me.”

“That doesn't mean I know you.” you shoot back.

“Then it makes you foolish for coming here with me.”

“Did you just call me stupid?” you frown, glaring at the man in front of you that smirks in return.

“It depends on how you take it.”

Your blood boils, ignoring the light tone he has. Is he just trying to lighten up the mood, tease you or makes fun of you? It's so fucking hard to read him and understand him.

“Can I take your order, please?”

The waiter's voice resounds next to you, causing you to flinch. You hear Seokjin saying his order, while you quickly try to pick your own, since you were distracted with him this whole time. When your order is done, the waiter walks away but not before he politely bows at the both of you.

The next few minutes are filled with awkward silence, your nails gently tapping against the wooden table as you stare at the man in front of you. He surely feels your eyes on him, but he's effortlessly staring at his phone until he tucks it into his inside pocket of his suit. Sighing, he looks right back at you and it leaves you speechless for a moment.

“Spit it out,” he tells you, causing your brows to furrow in slight confusion. “You've probably got a lot of questions, so spit it out.”

It's almost funny how you got used to his blunt responses and sharp tongue. This man is cocky, mean and snobby.

“How do you know my father and why were you looking for him?” you ask straight away, spitting it out just as he requested.

He seems to be amused by your straight forwardness, chuckling under his breath before he licks his lips. “Your father used to work with me. He stole money from me and disappeared.” he answers, sounding as if he's talking about his day.

You open your mouth in shock, growing embarrassed by your father's actions. It makes sense he was looking for you, hoping he'd get some information. He thought you might knew where he might be. But why'd he spend his free time inviting you to this restaurant and fancy dinner, when you don't know anything. You really doubt it's because he wants to share any information with you. He could care less about someone like you – yet, here he is.

“Wait,” you speak up, eyeing him. “You don't believe me. You think I know where he is. That's why you've invited me to this dinner. You thought you'd get some information, not the other way around.”

Of course! It makes perfect sense.

And the fact he stays quiet and almost shamefully stares into his lap, confirms your assumptions. You scoff, ready to stand up when he mutters a quick 'wait!”.

“I don't know where my father is. He left me and my mother when I was still a kid and the last time I've seen him was two years ago, when he had the audacity to knock at my door and ask for money. I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Kim, but you're not getting any information out of me because I don't have any.” you tell him quickly, glaring at the man the whole time you speak as he sighs.

“I know that now, calm down.” he sighs again, probably disappointed that you're no help for him.

This man is really getting on your nerves, he has the audacity to tell you to calm down. You're going to smack his handsome face.

“Then what do you want?” you ask him. “Wait-- do you want me to give you the money he stole for you? Right? Is that it?” you fire all the questions at him, causing him to glare at you in annoyance.

“I don't think you've got that kind of money. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Actually, yes, you're offended but you stand your ground with head held high.

“Yes, I was hoping you know something. I'll admit that. I don't care if you know about your what has your father done and why I was looking for him, sorry not sorry. It's none of my business.” he admits, taking a sip of water before he puts it down.

You're gaping, fire burning inside of you at his honesty and plan that he had this whole time.

“You really only care about yourself, right?” you scoff, noticing how dark his eyes has become.

“You don't know me.” he says lowly, clenching his jaw as you can't help but stare.

Who the hell is this man?

But when you're ready to bombard him with another set of questions, or curse about his personality, you're stopped by a waiter bringing you your food. For a few minutes, you rummage through your food with a fork, a frown settled on your lips as Seokjin comfortably eats. Cheeks puffed as he calmly eats with no problem, before he swallows and looks up at you.

“Why are you the one who's chasing him? Aren't you supposed to go to the police or something?” you murmur, looking down at your untouched food.

“I probably should. But I wanted to find him and deal with this on my own. He'd be in a lot of trouble if I brought this to a police.”

For the first time of this night, you see at least some kind of light inside of his dark personality. You're so taken back, that you stay quiet and watch him eating instead.

“Are... are you going to tell police? Now that you can't find him.” you ask carefully.

You shouldn't care about the man who abandoned you and your mother, but he's still your father. And you're curious.

“Maybe,” Is all he says, before he eyes your untouched food. “And now eat. I'm not paying for it just for you to stare at it.”

Frowning, you want to curse at him but find yourself to actually taste the food. And it's the best food you've ever tasted, diving for another bite right away.

From the corner of your eyes, you see amused smirk on his lips but you ignore him, focusing your attention onto the food that you won't probably get to taste ever again.

taglist: <is in the comments> comment on the most recent chapter to be added to the taglist

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin au #seokjin smut #seokjin scenario #seokjin drabble #bts drabble series #personasintro

524 notes · View notes

2sunchild2 · 5 years ago

Note

About the prompts you asked: could you please do a maribat, where the class goes to Gotham and are held hostage by some villain(maybe like the Riddler) and is a total badass and use her mind and abilities to kick ass and take names, and we get to see Lila internally panic, because she never knew Marinette was so strong, and Damian and the people that are still Mari's friends in the background super proud of their girlfriend/friend, and the rest of the class is in shock. I love your fics ❤️❤️❤️❤️

As you wish ✨✨

✨I apologize for the trash quality of this✨

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The trip to Gotham did not go as planned.

When did anything go as planned to be honest.

It was supposed to be a free day. As in a ‘shop near the hotel’ kind of free day. But no, they couldn’t do that because someone had absolutely insisted they go to the fashion district because they knew a guy who could get them discounts. Ms. Bustier hesitated for a few moments. She was worried about leaving a bunch of teenagers shop, alone, in Gotham.

As she should be, Marinette thought bitterly.

She stood a few feet away from the class, not too far for her to be completely forgotten, but not too close to be noticed by her classmates. She had eyed the stores while they walked and only a few were deemed worthy to step foot in. Not that she would.

Now, remember that someone who absolutely insisted they go to the fashion district? Well, apparently, someone overheard her proclaiming that she was in fact, dating the Damian Wayne, son of the billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

So now, they were being held hostage in what the to be the ugliest, tackiest, cheapest, most horrendous clothing store she had ever stepped foot in. It’s like forever 21 and hot topic had a weird mutated baby together. She shuddered at the thought.

(Technically, she didn’t willingly enter the store. She was shoved in by a big guy in an ugly green sweater. She bit her tongue, she wouldn’t comment.)

The man holding them hostage had his back turned to them, facing the shop window, and has been laughing for the past minute and twenty one seconds. Marinette was counting. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but decided against checking it.

She took a look at her her classmates to see if there was anyone that could help. Half of them were scared, the other half either wasn’t there or they just weren’t paying attention. Chloe and Adrien decided to be smart and not go shopping. Ivan was picking his nose, Kim was smelling his armpits and Alix was trying to eat as many pieces of gum as she could without breaking her jaw. Great, she thought, I’m being held hostage with a bunch of morons.

“You! Girl!” A voice called out, taking her out of her daydream. The man in the hideous three piece suit pointed a green-gloved finger at her. She stayed in her place, seated on the floor, leaning against the counter, eyeing the disaster before her.

This man, who not only had the balls to yell at her, had the audacity, the absolute nerve, to go out and dress like that? Who in their right mind would think neon green and purple was a good idea? Who allowed this to happen?

The man’s eye twitched and he snapped his fingers. One of the goons grabbed her but the arm and dragged her to the front, rather roughly if she might add. Her phone vibrated in her pocket again. Marinette stayed still as the goons tied her up with rope. She stared at him with an indifferent look.

“Is that it? Can I sit down now?”

The man quirked an eyebrow in interest. He put a hand to his chin and circled around her a few times, “You got balls kid,” he told her after a few beats of silence, “how about we make a deal hmm?”

Now it was her turn to raise a brow, silently urging the green menace to continue with his train of thoughts.

“How about this. I give you a bunch of riddles. You win, I let you and your friends go,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“And if I lose?” The man only smirked and dragged a finger accross his throat. Okay, she nodded, got it.

(He wasn’t very threatening, in fact he reminded her of a slightly better dressed clown. Which was saying something because his outfit made her want to gouge her eyes out.)

“Okay,” she finally answered, earning a few gasps from her classmates, “I accept, on one condition though.” The man nodded for her to continue. “If I win, not only do you let us go, but you must give yourself a new costume. Please, the one you currently have is ridiculous.”

The man, the Riddler, that was his name, looked hurt for a few second before glaring at her. Perfect, she thought, now I made him mad.

“Okay then twerp. Riddle me this. ‘I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?’ I’m giving you five seconds.”

Was this supposed to be hard?

“An echo.”

Riddler’s eyebrow twitched, “Okay... how about this one. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?’”

“Bro, that’s literally the easiest riddle you could think of,” Marinette deadpanned, “It’s a map.”

Riddler glared at her and opened his mouth again, “Why you little twit. Here’s the last one. What word in the English language does the following: the first two letters signify a male, the first three letters signify a female, the first four letters signify a great, while the entire word signifies a great woman. What is the word?”

“Heroine. Can I go now? I need to pee...” The green menace marched towards her, but before he could say anything, she dropped the ropes and stomped on his foot. Hard.

One of the goons decided to grab her from the back, but Kim, bless him and his himbo energy, tackled the guy before he could even try. Marinette and Alix opened the doors and violently urged the rest of the class and hostages to leave.

“Miss,” a deep voice startled her, she turned around to see Bruce, well... Batman holding out his hand, “you have just defeated one of Gotham’s most frequentm and frankly annoying, villains. Thank you.”

She gave him a mocking smile, wholeheartedly ignoring Red hood laughing at the green eyesore. “Thank you sir, but I really must go. I have someone waiting for me.” Batman smiled at her and let go of her hand, watching her run to Damian’s arms.

“Hey uhhh, Batman?” He turned around face Red Hood, holding a detained Riddler, “I think he’s crying...”

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

That’s all for today folks

#garbage🥴

Tag list: @thyladyanput @virgil-is-a-cutie @18-fandoms-unite-08 @thesunanditsangel @caffeinetheory @spicybelladonna @lizziejay @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @realrandomposts

#daminette #maribat #maribat fic #ask sunnie #ask and i’ll reply i promise

1K notes · View notes