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starsbythepocketful12 · 2 years ago

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@poemsbybuddie day 7: blood

okay this started as a poem about blood and then it turned into other things and got really long so sorry for that but i tried to tie it back around by the end anyway let me stop rambling

tw for internalized homophobia in one part, tw for a mention of purging

something that soaked through dressings

pooled under wounds

stained hands and clothing

the loss of it usually led to tombs

something smeared on his forehead

as he lay trapped under a firetruck

something stained across his face

the moment i realized

i had run out of luck

most would find it romantic

to have the epiphany

that you’ve found the love of your life

but for me, it was a moment tinged by crimson droplets

a reminder of the ways

life cut us down the middle like a knife

always pushing us apart

or maybe that was just me

too scared to let myself touch you

too scared to let myself see

too scared to let myself speak truth

because wouldn’t that be

the most violent act i could commit

letting my heart’s roots

grow and wrap around yours

until they poison the garden in your chest

and leave you with something that can’t be cured

so i vowed in that moment

if i survived yet another bullet

tearing through my skin

i would bury this emotion along with the others

treat it like a sin

because isn’t it?

isn’t the way i love

the worst part of me?

isn’t it destructive and disgusting

isn’t it unnatural and vile

isn’t it perverted and harmful

shouldn’t i purge myself until i’m heaving bile

in an attempt to rid myself

of this horrific thing

shouldn’t i sit myself down in pews

and join pepa and abuela when they sing

hymns and amens

to cleanse my soul

while a part of me believes that

another knows

this is getting old

over thirty years of this torture

over thirty years of repression

over thirty years of lies

over thirty years of hoping to see heaven

over thirty years of tears

denial, anger, and an ache

that no matter what

i can never seem to shake

two years gone by

since that day of seeing the light

not the death kind

but the one that made me realize

you are just right

you are who i choose

and who i want to be chosen by

and though at first

that discovery

made me wonder if it’d be better if i died…

(because how could i possibly

keep this under wraps?

how could i possibly

know and not have my chest spill out in front of me

in a move i can’t take back?

and how would i survive

if the contents of my heart

drove you away?

how would i move forward

if you learned

that you’re one of the two that make my world turn

and decided not to stay?)

…it turns out

i’m actually pretty good at hiding it

so maybe nothing has to change

i’m going to love you until i die

and that doesn’t have to equal

a fatal blow at close range

it’ll hurt like a mace to the guts

the day you leave us behind

but i’ll enjoy the now while i can

and try to not focus on the fact

that i’m running out of time

but then lightning struck

literally

and it was you, instead of me

and there was no liquid flooding from an injury

in fact, no injury to treat

merely a stillness

a silence

with the exception of the long beep

signaling no heartbeat

i always knew

losing you was a war

a fight

a crash

a collapse

an attack

a breakdown

i’d never get out of

this would be a pain so tough

no grief could compare

no one could ever fill

your empty chair

but that’s not all

your absence compounded with the fact

that you might be leaving this world

without knowing

that i would’ve died if it meant

having your back

more than that

because i know you’d do the same for me

more than i could ever put into words

just that all that i feel for you

sometimes makes it hard to breathe

how could i never tell you?

how could i be so dumb?

weren’t “tomorrow isn’t promised

so if you love her, tell her”

words i once told someone?

how could i take life for granted

when i know personally

how quickly it gets snatched away

how could i be so naive

to think Death was done using our existences

as a game they could play?

these things

were all that ran through my head

in those three minutes and seventeen seconds

and that when you were better

i was going to stop treating my love like a weapon

but now here we are

you’re physically fine, months have passed

and i’m not scared anymore

but i am wondering if it’d be too fast

you’re not ready

to know how i feel

but that’s okay

because we

are real

and meant to be

(look at that

you got me to believe in the universe

what an anomaly)

so i’ll wait

as long as you need

though i am going to cherish you

in unspoken, subtle ways

just enough that you feel appreciated

but not too much that you think it’s strange

so God forbid

you die (again)

before i get the chance

this time, you’d die

knowing my stance

though i really hope

the next time you die

isn’t until you’re old and gray

and there are no regrets, or secrets kept out of shame

just a peaceful goodbye

after several

beautiful decades

holding each other

long after

the bloodshed

started

to fade.

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #poemsbybuddie #go off adrian #long post

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years ago

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Hello! I was trying to sort some feelings out yesterday and ended up writing this following text. I’ve been trying to figure out my enneagram core for a while now (I know it takes time and a lot of inner reflection), but does this fit with something a 9 would feel? “I feel like I’m a satellite in other people’s lives. I’m constantly surrounding them, watching from afar, waiting for them to pull me in. The second they do, though, I just want to return to my own safe orbit. I’m constantly pushing and pulling, waiting for people to reach out and expecting their attention, but having to fight the urge of running back to my observer role. Maybe I’m afraid of compromising my energy, maybe I’m just leaving before I get left, I don’t know. I want to engage as much as I’m unwilling to leave my comfort zone. I’ve always been quick to blame others for relationships/friendships that, for some reason, didn’t work out. In my perception, they didn’t appreciate “everything” I was giving them. But, looking back, what exactly was I giving? My thoughts? I certainly think about my friends enough, why can’t they see how much I care about them? Growing up made me realize that people actually expect more from you. They expect your time, your energy, they expect you to be there for them. And they won’t know you’re there for them because they can’t read your mind. Empty words and thoughts won’t mean a thing if you don’t act accordingly. It’s hard for me to do that, though. It’s hard to fight my natural responses. I don’t wanna be alone, I expect people to stay around and reach out, but at the same time I don’t wanna give myself away and it’s a never ending cycle. And this doesn’t happen exclusively with personal relationships. My career ambitions are always tainted by the feeling that I’m not ready enough to do things, to help people. Taking care of people’s health is a lot of responsibility, how am I going to ensure that I know enough to do nothing wrong? I’ve been studying for so long now and I still feel that I’m not ready. People around me haven’t studied this much, but still, they’re so confident that they can figure things out! I wait for the “right feeling”, when I’ll “just know” it’s time to act, but I just keep thinking and thinking and that feeling never comes. I’m afraid of wasting my potential, of ending up unsuccessful and without realizing any of my dreams because I’m actually scared of engaging, with things and with people (for reasons that I’m still trying to figure out). In the end, everything goes back to the “being a satellite” feeling. When will I feel ready? Will this urge of staying away from others ever go away? Or will I have to find a way to fight it?” Thank you!

Yes, this is extremely withdrawn energy -- I would say sp/so 952.

Sp/so because you want autonomy and separation but also friends and connection -- and yet when you find it, you feel threatened and back away (back into sp). 9 feels adrift until others draw them in, then it feels like it has a purpose -- but this also feels threatening and so you drift away to maintain space (sp). 9s tend to go with others' agendas and ride in their wake, matching them energetically at times and allowing others to carry them along. They also struggle to remain in touch, to act, or to feel like others want them around (they let others communicate to them, rather than initiating contact). They mistake thinking about someone for actually talking to them. I also see 9-5 in how detached, reluctant to engage, fearful of ever being ready, and feeling overwhelmed by life you are. And 2 in that you really do want to be there for your friends (and the pride in what you "offer" them), but you wish it didn't involve attachment/closeness.

It's really hard to work through double-doing repressed (9 and 5) and feel ready or be proactive, but you need to work your line toward 3 and become self-confident and self-motivating. Set goals and work toward them. Recognize that you will be fine out in the world, that you can do it, that you won't be overwhelmed, that you can increase your ability to handle the outside world through practice and building up your tolerances. Feeling "not ready" will not go away until you recognize that it's your avoidance coping mechanism (a way to keep safe and your life small/calm) and that it's optional. You can do it.

#question #enneagram #enneagram 9

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skinnidreamss · 9 months ago

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Fuck tumblr

I've been scrolling through this blog for the past 2 hours. I don't even know how to feel. I guess the word "nauseous" would come to mind first. Ana tumblr has taken my fucking childhood from me and I gave it away happily.

I was fucking warned and I didn't listen. I would do anything to be able to stop my 13 year old self from ever discovering this place. I wish I could tell her that she really wasn't that fat, but the adults around her were trying to live through her and feeding her lies about how "dangerous" her very much healthy BMI was. I was just chubby. I was just a kid. I trusted everyone around me because they were adults and they were supposed to know everything, but it turns out that they were even more clueless than me.

I guess maybe when I found out that ED Tumblr, a place that is literally based on toxicity shared a few of the beliefs that these people would tell me, I should've been a bit concerned. But I wasn't. And I just fell into this rabbit hole that I don't think I will ever get out of. The things you learn here follow you forever. I can be happy and having a good day, eating something and the part of my brain that developed under the influence of this hell will remind me of some idiotic quote I read in a pretty font at 14. "once on the lips, forever on the hips", or some shit like that. And just like that, my day is ruined.

The truth is, I haven't been on here for a full year. My last post is from february 3rd 2023. It's february 6th 2024 now. I've been trying to heal, sort of. About 6 months ago, I started losing weight in a healthy(?) way. I think. I can't even tell at this point. After all these years, it's impossible to think about weight loss without triggering some horrible memories and starting some old habits again. I've had some close calls, but I haven't relapsed. I haven't starved myself the way I used to in a year. It's getting better.

I logged in today thinking I might delete this account once and for all. I decided to scroll through it and to my horror, I realized that I have repressed a lot of memories about my eating disorder. I had forgotten very big parts of my life and what my diets used to look like. I don't even know how to react and I don't have anyone to talk to about it. It's stuff that was happening a year and a half ago. One of the things I regret a lot is not journaling throughout my teenage years. But this blog has a ton of journal entries that reminded me of stuff my brain tried to erase. Like, for example. MY FUCKING THERAPIST TOLD ME THAT IF I TRULY WANTED TO LOSE WEIGHT, I WOULD???? WHat the actual fuck??????? I remember being very hurt about that and thinking about it a lot for a while, before getting back on tumblr and finding some crazy diet to do, after a while of actually doing better. If I hadn't found the post I made about it at the time, I would've probably forgotten about it forever. And there's probably so much shit that I will never remember again. The crazy thing is that although I had pretty much forgotten all of the things I wrote on here, they still hurt me somehow.

I am just so fucking angry at everything and anyone. I hate tumblr and everything about ed tumblr. My brain feels rotten from all the shit I learned here. I am getting better, but I've been having a shitty day so I guess I needed someplace to rant. I am angry at the complete lack of attention that everyone in my life gave me when it came to my diet. I used to be scared that they would find out and try to stop me from starving myself. But I slowly realized that I could show as many signs of an unhealthy diet as I wanted. Nobody ever noticed, or if they did, they just didn't give a shit. I was doing stuff that if a skinnier girl did, it would've raised a million red flags to everyone. But because I was fat, I guess it was fine.

I'm not gonna get into any more of my trauma anymore because if I start, I might just never stop writing.

I'll be 19 in two months. Everyone else I know has discovered themselves, bettered themselves, found friends and even love. All I've discovered in the past 6 years is how to lose and gain back the same 10 kg over and over and over again in the most disgusting and painful ways.

But whatever.

Life goes on. I owe it to my younger self to get better. I truly believe it's possible to do this in a healthy way. I will keep trying to be better and hopefully the anger will fade away in time and I will finally be able to heal from all of this. Someday.

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mangodestroyer · 2 years ago

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Analysis like this is why Crowley and Azirphale are my current hyperfixation. You're right, there really is so much to unpack. I sometimes have to wonder about Neil, even Terry, at times. Moreso Neil Gaiman though because I've read his books (but haven't yet read a Terry Pratchett book), and I find it interesting how there appears to be themes of characters going through some adverse interpersonal relationships. Especially with parents. Is everything alright, Neil?

I personally find neurodiversity and cPTSD to be a bit of a nightmare at times. Oh, don't get me wrong, I do get along well with some people. Not everyone in my life has hurt me. But enough people have. I've stopped masking my communication disorder as much because I've found that the only worthwhile people are those who love me when I'm being myself. And I actually find that people love me more when I embrace the things that make me different. Being guarded and repressing my true identity seems to be something that lets the wrong people in and scared off people who might have actually wanted to get to know me. So yeah, like I've said, there's a lot of work to do. Learning how to be a healthy human being and whatnot.

And again, these two are now my hyperfixation. I mean, I am so utterly OBSESSED. I've never been so fascinated by two fictional characters. Never in my life did I ever think I'd look at an angel and a demon working together to stop Armageddon and say, "We have so much in common!"

It's also just sometimes hard not to go on long tangents about them when someone brings up something I've been thinking about. Or never acknowledged before but find fascinating.

And you know what? Because Crowley and Aziraphale seem so much like neurodivergent humans who came from abusive households, it was impossible for me not to start writing a human AU analyzing what I think they'd be like as, well, humans! Oh, sure, I also used it as an excuse to work through my own problems trauma dump through my favorite characters, but there really is more to it than that. Because there are so many other things that kind of make Crowley and Aziraphale stand out from the other angels and demons. So they are neurodivergent and have trauma. In the human AU, I have also made them atheist/agnostic. Because they seem like the celestial version of that as well. I put a lot of thought into how they'd navigate a human world without supernatural powers, what their life experiences would be, what they'd be like if they were young (they're in their 20's in this fic rather than being middle aged like their actors), and so much more.

And let me tell you, I have also fallen so much in love with their human versions. Like, I'm sorry, but I love the idea of young Crowley being edgy at times cause he hasn't processed his trauma yet (he's not supposed to be abusive or anything, he just sometimes gets very cynical about stuff, tries to act like he's cool and put together and failing miserable at that, and unfortunately failing to be mindful of others at times because of neurodiversity, depression getting him stuck in his own head, and realizing he needs to learn more about the world and still has some growing up to do). Also, he's a dork at times cause of his youth and lack of experience with shit (after all, this Crowley didn't have 6,000 years to figure stuff out). It'd probably make more sense when actually written out. The early 20's are just odd, especially when you're from a rough background and are neurodivergent because you are an adult. But you don't feel like one. You still feel like a child. So while you are more mature than a teenager, you still struggle with handling adulthood. And you sometimes still have blunders. Or maybe that's just been my own experience. As a ND adult. Maybe NTs do have it easier (but I'm not sure about that either cause I've had older people tell me that when they were my age, they were still having some angst and struggling to "get" it, and these people are NT). Idk, maybe I just feel like early 20's angst doesn't get enough attention in stories.

I'm not really sure how to describe my Aziraphale. He's just... Aziraphale. So perfectly Aziraphale. I love Aziraphale! He's intelligent. He hyperfixates on things. And Crowley is more than happy to let him do so cause he likes seeing how passionate he can get. He's also sassy. He's kind most of the time, but I want to believe that he is capable of saying something that stings if you really upset him (kind of feel bittersweet and nervous about the chapter where this is relevant, but I think it is necessary to add this into my story as it goes back to the whole being inexperienced thing, trauma stunting you, ND causing embarrassing mistakes and disheartening results, and showing the protag is flawed and needs to figure shit out). But let me tell you, while he's not exactly smooth with everyone, I just like the idea of him sometimes being smooth with Crowley. It's a trope and a take on the character I like seeing in other fics. Even if Crowley sometimes teases him in canon (he teases him in my fic too). So he's not always smooth. He's just another weird (in a good way) adult who appreciates the soft dork Crowley actually is deep down.

I'm sorry, this story has been living in my head rent free for a while now. It's an extension of my GOs brainrot. Like I said, these two are literally consuming my soul. And when I do see human AUs, it's often these two in middle age. There actually isn't a whole lot of young Crowley and Aziraphale. And I think that's a shame because there is so much you can do with that. And also, it would be adorable. I can't even put it into words right now why it feels so special to me. It just makes me so oddly nostalgic for them because it's young (but not immature) love. And it's wholesome. And I wish I could experience it irl.

Like you said, lots to unpack. Lots of brainrot to be had.

I am certain no one has seen Aziraphale before Crowley.

The archangels look at him, but their vaguely-disgusted sneers and veneer smiles were already affixed as firmly as their hands are clasped together. They look at him, but they don't see him.

I'm certain that when Crowley looks at him curiously, it doesn't make him feel bothered, it makes him feel SEEN.

#good omens

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auroron · 4 years ago

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Midnight, the Stars and You

I did it whaaaaaat?! This took me a while, specially since I've been on an artist block for weeks. And shit's been crazy I literally moved from South America to the US and my mom got married and suddenly I don't have to go to school online and I have 22 assignments I have due for next week but anyways I hope you enjoy this drabble I love you all

Two weeks had passed since the war and things felt like they were somehow going back to normal. As if there was a normal, to begin with. Especially with the Weasley’s grief and Hermione’s parents being dispersed somewhere in a country she knew little about.

So she took it upon herself to find her parents, and she was ready to do it alone. She knew what she wanted, and she knew that even though it could take everything she had to find them, she was capable of doing so.

But it was hard. Especially because she knew she had to do it alone. She couldn't ask for Ron’s help, not when he had his mind somewhere else most of the time. Somewhere sad and dark, a place she had once known too well.

So she somehow understood. His and his family’s pain. Losing Fred had been a strike to everyone, especially George and Ron.

But even though things were complicated, she had still, maybe selfishly, enjoyed these two past weeks for the most part. All because of Ron.

They had talked for the first time since the end of the war the night after Fred’s funeral. She wasn't expecting anything, she had seen how he looked, how miserable he felt. And even having held his cold hands and whipping off his tears, she was expecting distance.

But he hadn't been distant at all. Boys used to confuse her so much, especially Ron. But now everything she knew when looking at him, was the truth. Who he was on the inside, beyond layers of repressed emotions she and probably most of the people had believed were the true Ron.

That night they kissed again. It was sweet and tender, and his lips had felt so soft, and his skin was shining from moonlight, and he had been perfect. Even thinking about it made her stomach fill with butterflies and her heart with some feelings she was yet to discover.

That night, she was so sure he was it for her. The moment she realized maybe he wasn't just a friend three years prior was the moment she knew she was done for. It was her perdition, and also her salvation. Because he had been, since forever, her forever.

That night, she knew she had to protect him. She knew he was at the edge of being truly broken, that his mind wasn't in the right place. His heart was though, he had made sure to tell her that.

“I like you, Hermione” he had broken the silence that filled the room since she had joined him, right after everyone "went to sleep" even if they knew no one was going to be capable of that.

“I really, really like you” he looked right into her eyes, seeking for some sort of approval that his feelings were returned.

She was so lost that no words escaped her lips. That made him step back, looking down like she knew he did when he wasn't sure of things.

“I’m sorry Hermione, didn’t mean to-”

He was stopped. She held his had, interwining them, connecting them, making him look at her the way she loved to be seen.

No words flung around. And no words were needed. She kissed him, softly but surely, then passionately until their breaths were taken away.

“I like you too” she lied.

She knew deep down she didn’t just like him. It was deeper, stronger. But she also knew deep down that right now, what she had said was enough.

She wasn’t sure of many things in life. Boys certainly weren't one of them. But she knew for certain that Ron needed calm. And she was going to leave him just because it was the right thing to do.

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she immediately packed all the necessary things for her travel and was sure to go. Now at the Burrow's front door, she said goodbye to Arthur, whom she had trusted to tell about her search, and who had supported her and sworn to not tell a living soul.

But then something stopped her. Someone.

"What's this?" said a loid but sleepy voice that came from the stairs, and soon she saw a now awoken Ron in his Chudley Cannons orange shirt.

“What's what?” Hermione responded, her eyes avoiding his.

“You’re leaving? Without me?” he sounded a bit sad.

“Ron I have to find my parents, I need to know they are okay, that they aren’t, you know.”

“They aren't, Hermione.”

“But they could be! I don't want to lose them.”

“I know you don't, but you cannot go alone. They are still out there. Who knows what could happen.”

“I can manage myself” They were now very close, moonlighting filling the room, stars shinning behind them decorating the sky, just like his freckles did with him.

“Trust me, I know that. Very well indeed. But I don’t want you to do this alone. I mean, you don't have to do this alone.”

“I” she hesitated. “I can’t ask such a thing from you, I can’t expect you to leave your family. Not for me.”

“He wouldn't,” said Arthur, whom Hermione had forgotten was there, watching, but now from a safe distance.

They both turned around at the same time, and Arthur flinched for a second. “You don't have to worry about us. We'll be fine. Your mom will be fine. Besides, you are going to find your parents, we are certain of that." he breathed, now looking directly at Hermione. "He won't leave you alone if you don't let him go with you, I know this one pretty well, trust me.”

She turned around to see Ron blushing, cheeks and ears as red as they could get. He whispered something to his dad she couldn't quite understand.

Then he turned to her sweetly, puppy 'not at all convincing' eyes looking directly at her.

“Uh fine!”

Ron smiled, mostly to himself.

“You scared me, you know” he came closer to her the instant Arthur disappeared into the kitchen.

“And why’s that”

“Well, you wrote me a letter as if you weren't going to see me ever again. I mean I always thought you were eventually going to get tired of me, but this soon? Evil.”

“Oh shush it, will you?” She couldn't help a light giggle escape her, and seconds later they were both laughing, still shyly as if they were 11 years old again.

“You really must be crazy about me, are you? said Ron while they were going up the stairs, the hallway quiet as it had never been before this early in the night.

“What makes you think so highly of yourself, mister Weasley?”

“Well you just laughed at a half-joke that wasn't even that funny.”

They walked into the highest room in the Burrow, Hermione watching as Ron packed his most necessary things (basically his Cannons shirts, toothpaste, shampoo, and underwear), and left as soon as possible to get to their apparition point as quickly as possible.

When they got there, Hermione saw an opportunity and took his hand on hers, tight and firm. She swore she saw his ears turn scarlet red, just like hers.

She summoned all the courage there was left in her, and stood on her tiptoes, leaning in and whispering in his ear before apparating in what she considered a "seductive" tone. “You are right you know, I am indeed crazy about you.”

#romione #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #fanfic #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #ronmione #ron and hermione #ron x hermione #harry potter fanfic #romione fandom #harry potter series #hope you guys like it <3

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 4 years ago

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re: your last ask about the time travel shenanigans—holy fuck yes please more of this. like, not only is it funny as hell, which i appreciate, but it's also a. more c!thomas and b. points to just how interestingly both the plot and characters of this series have grown over the years and i am ALL for it

"Janus!" is the first thing Thomas exclaims when he sees the Side Formerly Known Exclusively As Deceit rise up where Logan would usually stand. Which just might be a mistake, if Janus’s expression is anything to go by.

Okay, in Thomas's defence -

This is a really, really weird day, even by his standards. Because, like, Logan's currently standing in front of the stairs, and that's not where Logan's supposed to be, and his shirt and tie are all wrong. And had had been grinning. Openly. He had been openly grinning when Thomas had first woken up and looked in his wardrobe and realized that his favorite t-shirt apparently doesn't exist anymore and all his clothes are a half-size smaller than he's used to but also they still fit and - okay, no, back to Logan. He'd gone downstairs and tripped over a chair that wasn't supposed to be there and called out Logic. And he'd been about to ask him what's going on and why everything feels so off and also why Logan's standing in Virgil's usual spot instead of over to the right of the stairs. But then he'd noticed all the aforementioned Very Weird Clothing Things. And he'd stopped and said, "Uh, Logan?" and Logan's grin had dropped and he'd stared at Thomas for a full ten seconds then whispered, "what the fuck," with great emotion.

And then Patton had shown up with a ridiculous amount of pun-riddled cheerfulness that Thomas had been able to clock as sixty-percent fake within about half a second. And his clothes had been all wrong, too, and after a lot of confused, borderline-incomprehensible yelling at each other, Roman had showed up and added to the chaos.

"I am scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it!" Thomas had declared at some point, which had been the cue for an ominous music sting somewhere to Thomas's right that made everybody jolt in terrified unison.

"Did somebody say scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it?"

"Virgil, thank god!" Thomas had practically yelled, and just about thrown himself across the room to get to him - before pausing midway and allowing his brain to process... wrong hoodie. Wrong amount of eyeshadow. "Wait. No, hang on, is this - "

"FUCKING WHO," Virgil shrieked, leaping backwards half a flight of stairs, which had led to another round of confused yelling, with Thomas trying to assure them all that he's fine he hasn't had some sort of strange head injury or whatever, he's just really happy to see Virgil and no of course that's not weird, what do you mean who's Virgil, that's Virgil right over there, Roman please put down that sword things are already out of hand -

And at some point Thomas had got it into his head that the most reasonable course of events was to summon the one person who always seems to know everything that everybody else doesn't, which brings everything up to speed, more or less. Roman had gone, "Thomas, what are you doing," and Thomas, feeling slightly manic at this point, had said, "I'm trying to summon a demon, obviously," because the best way to get hold of a certain someone probably is blatant lying, and boom, instant Janus.

"Jeee-sus Christ on a cookie-shaped canoe, what is he doing here?!"

"Janus!"

So, Janus pops up, he looks literally the same as he always has (except maybe with shorter hair? Wait, they all have shorter hair, including Thomas, wait a second -) with his half-snake-face and his hat and gloves that cosy-looking capelet of his. And although his expression reflects faint bewilderment and that very particular 'wait, what' emotion that results in being pulled abruptly away from something you were busy with, he looks so normal that Thomas thinks for a moment he might be the only sane person left.

But then Janus makes a series of start-and-stop noises of incomprehension, and gestures wildly towards Virgil, who's crouched midway up on the stairs behind Logan, looking like a cornered wild animal, and snaps, "Why for the love of everything that's holy would you tell him my name?"

"You think this is me?" Virgil retorts, hands going up to grab desperately at the bars lining the side of the staircase. "I don't understand anything that's going on! He somehow knows my name! He's - he's being nice to me!"

It suddenly occurs to Thomas that this might just possibly be a time travel sort of thing. It would explain the clothes shift. And the altered layout of his house. And the fact that when he'd checked his phone this morning it had told him it was 2016, and also it hadn't been his phone, it had been the one he'd broken a few years ago in a tragic piano-moving-related accident.

...Okay, yeah, this is absolutely a time travel thing.

"Is somebody going to explain why Thomas ruined all of our heartfelt name reveal moments in one fell swoop?" Roman demands. "I thought we agreed we were going to do them gradually and draw them out as long as possible for dramatic effect!"

"I agreed to none of that," Virgil snaps from his position halfway up the stairs.

"Yes," says Logan, "yes, I think we all would like to know what's going on. Thomas? What's going on?"

"Uh - " Thomas, who has just come to a rather startling realization about time travel and also about how shitty his Sides' taste in costumes were pre-wardrobe change, doesn't really have a prepared answer for this. "I have... I am - I just - "

Thomas struggles for words. Really struggles. And everyone's just standing there, watching him with expressions that range from terror to confusion to suspicion, and they all look so weirdly young in a way that's hard to pin down. It's the clothes. It's probably the clothes, or maybe it's the way they hold themselves. Roman, carelessly confident, without a doubt in the world. Patton, still wearing a fixed dad-grin, politely baffled and looking back and forth. Logan, who hasn't been systematically beaten down and pushed back over the course of many, many years. Virgil, who's basically just a ball of grey-and-black anger and acerbic anger at this point. Janus, who's... Janus. Who's looking at him in a way that Janus has never looked at him before.

And Remus is probably lurking somewhere in the back of his mind, too, doing whatever Remus does, and - would Remus be any different now, four years prior? Thomas hadn't had any significant problems with intrusive thoughts, not back then... or, well, back now. Maybe he's calmer, maybe Thomas could actually talk with him. Try to work something out, try to understand.

But wait, he's still got to give the Sides right here and right now an answer.

Hm.

...Thomas has been through a lot in the past four years. Not, like, fantasy protagonist a lot, but more like a extended psychological journey of self-discovery and mental health crises. Now, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because he's learned a hell of a lot about himself in the process - but also? The Sides have put him through a lot of horrifying realization-type things.

Which is why he absolutely one hundred percent deserves to do what he's about to do next.

"I," says Thomas, with an extraordinary amount of confidence and self-assuredness, "am psychic."

And the dead silence holds. Now even Patton is staring at him in disbelief. Janus has graduated into outright horror, his face twisted up into a oh god no I am somehow responsible for letting him delude himself this far expression.

"Thomas!" Roman gasps, almost instantly lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Oh, Thomas, I'm so proud, we've been working on this for years. Tell me, does this extend to telekinesis, or just somehow knowing all our names and nothing else?"

"What?" Janus says. "What - no. No, you can't seriously be going along with this - what? That... what? That doesn't even make any sense?" He turns wildly from left to right, and - okay, it's very enjoyable to see him out of his depth, to be perfectly honest. Thomas likes Janus a lot, knows he has his best interests at heart, but the whole courtroom thing had been a major dick move. This is satisfying. "Are any of you getting this? Does anyone here understand what's going on?"

"I'm psychic," Thomas repeats doggedly. "I acquired magical psychic powers and now I know all of your names and tragic backstories. Surprise! I unlocked my full potential and the ninety-percent of my brain power that I wasn't using."

"That's - that's a widely-perpetuated and wildly incorrect myth," Logan says weakly.

"Nope. Turns out it's true, and I was only using ten percent of it, and now that I've gone full big-brain, I know that Patton's repressing all his bad feelings because he doesn't want to bother anyone with them, Virgil acts all scary and menacing because he thinks it's the only way that I'll ever listen to him, and Janus is secretly a huge dork with a heart of gold - uh, yellow, I guess."

"How dare you," Janus breathes, looking horrified.

"Wha - " Patton suddenly looks very pale indeed.

"Also, Roman, you're my hero; Logan, please never stop smiling like that ever again, it's literally my favorite thing in the world and if you ever stop being enthusiastic about teaching me things I will cry - and Virgil, I love you."

Virgil lets out a choked little noise like he's just been punched directly in the stomach.

"I love all of you," Thomas adds, an afterthought. "I never say that enough. Janus, that goes for you as well. You're right, I need to take care of myself more."

"I'm - " Janus is still looking around at everyone in complete disbelief, but now his gaze fixes onto Thomas, his eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Thomas is now on a roll. An extremely cathartic sort of roll. "And Remus -"

Everybody immediately panics. Virgil and Logan's hands both immediately leap up to clasp over their mouths, which seems to be a reflexive reaction on Janus's behalf. Patton lets out a deranged-sounding high pitched giggle that edges into genuine hysteria.

"Brother? What brother? I don't know what a brother is!" Roman says loudly. "I've never had a brother in my life! Thomas, your glorious psychic powers are malfunctioning. Have you tried turning them off and turning them on again?"

" - I'm not going to lie and say I love him, but -" Thomas stops abruptly, and staggers backwards to catch himself on the couch as a thought strikes him out of literally nowhere. "Son of a bitch -"

"Does being psychic make you swear a lot?" Patton asks weakly. "Because, uh. Not sure I like this side of you, kiddo - "

"Logan," says Thomas. "Logan, what's the date today? This is so, so important, what's the date."

"It's... October," Logan says, very slowly. "October twentieth. 2016?"

"Holy shit," Thomas whispers, and then says it louder, "holy shit. Okay, listen. I was going to sort out all of our collective psychological issues in one impressive emotional speedrun, but I've realized we have something much more important to do." He pauses, and takes in a very deep, shuddering breath. "Guys. We can save Vine. Excuse me. I've just realized I’ve got to make a lot of calls."

#storytime #timeswap au #asks #please note that everything in my storytime tag is (by definition) rushed and unedited content and this is no exception #that being said. enjoy.#character!thomas #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #sad to announce that remus is once again not here :(#Anonymous

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 5 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

____________________________________________________________

~Cassian~

A week later, I’m exceptionally proud to say I haven’t given in yet. No matter how much I want to.

Tensions the past seven days have been... high, to say the least.

Both of us are doing our absolute best to drive the other insane.

She’s doing it so I either sign the deed and give in or turn to someone else, both which would give her Sera back.

I’m doing it because if I have to suffer, she can bet her pretty ass she does, too.

Ironically, tonight’s our engagement party. A celebration of our undying love and an announcement to the world the Russians and Italians of New York should no longer hate and murder each other.

They’re allowed to be sexually frustrated as hell, but no, they can’t kill each other.

I’m waiting for the little minx who’s spent the week making me regret ever even asking for the club, drinking bourbon so I’m too drunk to even be tempted by her--which is likely enough to kill me--when she finally deigns to grace me with her presence.

I take one look at her, starting at the high blonde ponytail that would wrap around my fist at least twice and ending at the very high, very red shoes I immediately want by my shoulders.

“Fuck.”

Obviously the reaction she was looking for, she smiles.

Her dress is a cream color thing that clings to her curves and is short enough to showcase her long legs. It’s somehow classy, while low enough to draw my eyes to her breasts as she comes down the stairs towards me.

Nesta stops right before me, close enough I smell the jasmine and vanilla of her skin, and looks at me through her lashes.

I turn my gaze to the ceiling, vowing to keep it there until I trust myself to not do something stupid like tell her she’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

“I’m so fucked,” I mutter hopelessly.

If possible, she comes closer, sliding all the interesting, female parts of her against me. “You would be if you just gave me back my shit.”

I glare down at her. “I don’t like to lose.”

“Would you really be losing?”

I keep my mouth shut, because the answer to that question is a big fat no. God, she’s good.

“Tell me again why you refuse to put us out of our misery?” I ask in return, trying to remind myself who the fuck I am.

Even though I wonder if it is our misery. I can’t read her, can’t tell if this is affecting her like it is me.

She gives me a cold look. “What do you see happening after we get married, exactly? You think you’ll work a few hours at the club I spent three years building from the ground up, come home and eat a home cooked meal, then fuck your complacent little wife however you want?”

I have no idea what to say, because when she puts it like that, I sound like the biggest douche in the world.

Nesta sees the hesitation in my eyes and rolls hers. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I allow you to disrespect me like that, stronzo.”

“I respect you,” I say immediately, meaning the words.

“Just not enough to value my career.”

“Nesta-”

“Deal with it. If you somehow keep the board from voting you out in the next two weeks and manage to not sleep with me--which is unlikely, considering the way you look at me--the club will be yours.” She takes a step back, steeling her spin. “But I will not.”

I’m conflicted as hell, torn between wondering if she’s just playing me or being sincere.

Apparently done with the verbal smackdown, Nesta spins towards the door.

Hand on the handle, she turns back around and cocks her head. And then she answers the questions I hadn’t realized I’d been too scared to ask.

“No and yes.”

My brows raise. “What?”

“No, it hasn’t all been just me trying to mess with you. Yes, I want you as much as you want me. But I respect myself too much to allow someone who blazes into my life and steals something from me without a care or even a real negotiation to have my body, too.”

She walks out the door, leaving me standing in the living room stunned.

I eventually follower her down to the garage and we leave for the party Rhys is hosting for us downtown. But even though I go through the motions once we arrive, my mind is on the woman next to me the entire night.

I hate admitting it, but she’s right.

I took something that belonged to her, didn’t even question talking to her first, then acted like she was in the wrong for doing whatever she could to get it back.

I’ve said I like how strong and independent she is, but I tried to take that independence and turn her into something else. I bulldozed my way into her life, then acted like I was the one inconvenienced by it.

And seriously, why am I even fighting for this place? Yeah, I like it and think it’s unique, but the place is above board. Which to me translates as boring.

The past two weeks, I’ve had to go to investment meetings, deal with sending out the nightly invitations for entrance, and plan events for upcoming holidays. Things I never do with my other properties.

I hate managing things--I hire people to do that kind of thing for me. But I know I can’t hire someone, because who the hell besides my fiancé would do the job right?

No one.

I realize that on the drive home, and it gets me thinking. By the time we’re inside the apartment, I’m already mentally finalizing the details.

I tell her I have to take care of something, go to my office, and close the door.

Then I pull up the marriage contract, along with the deed to Sera, and hit print.

~Nesta~

A week after our engagement party, I realized I’ve started to lose hope.

Cassian’s managed to wrangle or bribe or threaten the board into not voting him out, and the employees have stopped calling me to ask when I’m coming back. He hasn’t touched me or tried to seduce me in six days--probably a record for him--and I start to feel like I’ve lost.

My club will be his in a week, and after we’re married, only him signing the deed over will get it back. Something that will never happen, considering it’d be a serious hit to his pride to do something as weak as give me what’s rightfully mine.

My club will be his, but like I said, I won’t.

Which honestly is just as upsetting.

Even though he’s a stubborn, boneheaded stronzo with a big enough ego for us both, it’s hard for me to overlook the moments of the past three weeks that haven’t revolved around Sera.

Little moments that have made it harder for me to pull away from him.

He’s made me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met, whether with his foul sense of humor or stories about his violent, wild childhood. He stopped leaving the toilet seat up when I pointed it out. He hasn’t said a word about me ordering take-out all the time or working in bed while he tries to sleep.

He even dealt with one of Alexei’s buyers for me when they tried to renegotiate the price originally agreed upon.

And he hasn’t really pressed the celibacy thing. Sure, he’s complained about it enough for me to want to smack him, but I don’t know any other Made Men, Russian or Italian, that would’ve respected my wish after how much I’ve teased him.

If he would just-

I cut that train of thought off and focus on the report in front of me, because at this point, it’s obvious he won’t.

I sip my wine, which is starting to grow on me, and look over shipment records from one of Alexei’s yards, flagging crates that need to be smuggled instead of brought in through the main channels. Repressing a groan at the thought, I realize I’ll have to go down one night this week and make sure they arrive without problem.

I take another long pull from my glass.

“Drinking to forget?” Cassian asks, leaning in the doorway of the bedroom and looking me over.

I shrug, not much in the mood for banter.

“I got you something.”

Sighing, I reply, “Yeah, me too. It’s on the nightstand.”

His brow furrows as he walks over and picks up the ring box, opening it to look at the titanium band inside.

Just another symbol of our lifelong, happy, sexless marriage.

He puts the ring back in the box and extends a hand. “It isn’t a ring.”

“What is it?”

“Get your ass out of bed and find out.”

I would, except I don’t want to. And I don’t really want whatever stupid, materialistic thing he’s bought me-

He closes my laptop and pulls the cover back, ducking when I swing a fist towards his head. “Violent little wolf,” he teases.

“Stop calling me that,” I demand, trying in vain to keep the blanket on me so he can’t tell I’m not wearing anything underneath the t-shirt I stole from him.

He pauses, sighs, and scoops me up, blanket and all. “I love watching you fight how much you love me calling you that.”

“I don’t have to fight anything except he overwhelming urge to smack you.”

Cassian just huffs, walking us out of the room, through the living room, and into his office. Then he puts me down, smacks my butt to get me moving, and grunts when I elbow him in the ribs.

“Maybe this will fix your bad mood,” he mutters, flipping the light switch on and bathing the office in golden light.

I take an involuntary step forward, eyebrows going high on my forehead.

I’ve only been in here once before, just long enough to notice the obnoxiously big desk and wall of windows behind it. I’d taken in the black leather couch and wing-backed chairs, determined it was a typical male office for a typical male, and vowed to work somewhere else.

But that was a while ago, and it’s obvious he’s done some home improvement.

There are decidedly now two desks in the corners near the windows, angled in to the middle of the room where two cream-colored leather chairs sit. The desks are identical, mahogany and classic without being ostentatious.

A rug covers the hardwood floors, a deep maroon color that matches small details throughout the room.

It’s beautiful.

Cassian leads me with his hands on my shoulders to one of the desks, and I let him guide me around to the chair and push me down in the soft leather.

I look up to ask him what this is about, but he jerks his chin to the desk where to two papers lie.

One is the deed to Sera.

A rush of surprise goes through me as I see he’s transferred the building back over to me, even going so far as to deem the process irreversible. It’s signed and dated a week ago, the night of our engagement party.

My eyes are shiny as I look at the other document and read through it.

“What is this?”

“A partnership, of sorts,” Cassian explains, leaning a hip on the- my desk like he did in his Capo’s office. “You’re now a partner at my businesses, and if you sign, I’ll be yours.”

My eyes find his, and I see that he’s serious but still choke out, “What?”

He smiles and shrugs, like signing over half of your life’s work is easy. “You had me pegged when you first saw me and figured out I’m a fighter. I hate everything about running a business except the in-person negotiating and knitty gritty shit. It’s boring to me, and while I can do it, I’m not nearly as good at it as you are.”

“Cassian-”

“So run them both. I’ll do the day to day shit I know you hate, and you’ll do the rest.”

I can’t hardly process what he’s saying.

“What if we disagree?” It’s a valid question, considering we’ve basically been fighting the entire time we’ve been engaged.

“We talk about it and try to figure it out. And if we can’t, the original owner has the final call and veto power in all situations.” His eyes say he knows how important it is to me as he says, “You’ll still be in control of your property, and I’ll still be in control of mine.”

I don’t know why I’m still asking questions, because it sounds great, but there’s one more thing I want to know.

“Why?”

He sighs, sitting on the desk fully and looking down at me with open, honest eyes. “Because I’m tired of doing this shit alone. I’m tired of going to work and dealing with every single thing and then coming home and having no one who understands.”

He looks out the window, shoulders tight. “I thought you’d be like my friends’ wives, which is why I was such an ass. I thought you’d be just another thing for me to take care of, and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realize you could be my partner, not just my wife.”

His eyes are back on mine, the heat in them making my heart pound. “I’m sorry, Nesta. I’m sorry I stole Sera in the first place, then refused to hear you out and give it back. I have a tendency to be a little stubborn.”

My lips twitch, and his eyes soften at the sight.

“But what you said about respecting yourself stuck. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t respect you, because I do. You’re smarter than me, cool when I’m rash, and have the mind for business I never have.” He smiles softly. “I know you’re just as alone as me, and just as tired of it. So say yes.”

I feel a smile on my face as I get to my feet, moving to stand between his thighs. “Are you just doing this so I’ll sleep with you?”

He sighs, dropping his head in shame to rest against my chest. “You caught me.”

My arms wrap around his shoulders, his going around my waist, and I use the opportunity to play in his hair. It’s so soft and curly, and he makes a content sound as I run my hands through it.

“Are you saying yes, little wolf?” he murmurs against my collarbone, dropping his head to rub his face across my breasts.

I roll and tug his hair to keep the randy bastard away. “Yes, pervert, I’m saying yes.”

Cassian smiles a big, goofy smile so ridiculously charming I lean in and kiss him.

His hands lock at my waist, resting on the curve of my back, and for a moment, he just lets me kiss him.

It isn’t our first kiss by any means, but it’s the first one where neither of us have ulterior motives, so I take my time.

I kiss his top lip, his bottom lip. Find I like them both equally.

My hands work across his shoulders, the thick muscles contracting under my hands, and I sigh his name.

Cassian’s hands fist in the fabric of my pajamas--which happen to still be his shirt--and draws me closer. He kisses my neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell so fucking good,” he mutters, biting down softly and making me gasp. “It drives me crazy.”

His hands slip to the back of my thighs, then I’m on his lap, knees on the desk next to his hips. “You drive me crazy,” he clarifies.

He kisses me again, hands sliding up my thighs to my ass to grind me against him. Callouses scrape against my skin as he sweeps the shirt off and tosses it behind me.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to take me in.

The fact that he’s still fully dressed while I’m in nothing but my underwear makes me feel even more exposed, doing strange things to my mind. I start unbuttoning his shirt while he kisses down my chest.

He teases one with his hand while he takes the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the peak. I squirm, pressing my hips more fully against is, but he holds me still, kissing and teasing me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Cassian,” I murmur, tugging his hair to pull his gaze to mine. “Thank you for the desk. I love it.”

His brows furrow, and I can see him start to think about how much I’ve teased him, but before he can worry that’s what I’m doing, I whisper, “Now fuck me on it. Please.”

A muscle in his jaw flickers, and his fingers dig into the flesh of my hips.

Before I can say another word, he stands and spins us around, sliding me on the desk. He holds my thighs around his hips, and then an idea seems to dawn.

“Wait right here.”

“Seriously?” I ask, even though he’s already half-way out of the room.

“Don’t you dare fucking move!” is the shouted response.

I roll my eyes, but he’s back quickly, holding the red stilettos I wore to our engagement party. I howl with laughter, and a faint blush colors his cheeks, but he stays firm in his desire and puts them on the floor beside my feet.

Then he leans against the window and watches while I slip them on.

His golden eyes blaze as I lean back on my elbows and slowly spread my thighs, in nothing but lace panties and heels.

“I’ll buy you all the desks you want, if you sit on them like that.”

Laughter bubbles out of me, and he’s suddenly on me, leaning over me to kiss me in a frenzy.

I rip his shirt open, and he doesn’t even break the kiss as he throws it to the floor. I hear the telltale clink of a belt, and then he stands up to slide my panties down, grab my legs, and guide them up.

I feel him brush over the center of me, instinctively lifting my hips to give him a better angle.

But he doesn’t give me what I want.

Cassian just stands there, gaze gliding from the hells on his shoulders to the apex of my thighs.

“Hold that thought,” he mutters, dropping to his knees and putting his mouth on me before I can even blink.

My back leaves the desk, a gasp escaping me.

“Cassian.”

“I want you to come on my tongue, then you get to come on my cock.”

“Cassian.”

He hums, the sensation sending shivers down my spin. He kisses me like he’s doing it for him, not me, mouth on every part of me it can reach.

I can see the lines of his tattoos on his shoulders, the top of his curly hair. It’s too much to handle, so I just lay back down on the desk and throw my hands above my head to hold on to the edge of the desk.

The only time he stops is to tell me things that apparently can’t wait five minutes, but I don’t even care because every word out of that sinful mouth makes me burn hotter.

“Come for me,” he demands breathlessly a few minutes later.

“Don’t boss me around,” I groan, even as I do exactly what he wants.

He lets me ride it out, dropping kisses to my thighs and stomach and hips.

As soon as I catch my breath, he’s on his feet, putting me in the exact position I was in earlier.

And then he’s pushing inside me, and I honestly almost come again from the feel alone. “Thank God,” I groan, the past three reminding me of the misery teasing him put me through.

“Fucking hell, you’re perfect.”

Hands on my thighs, he holds me in place as he starts to move. But as he picks up speed, going harder with each thrust, his hands have to slip to my thighs to keep me still.

I say his name, sounding like I’m begging him for something, and he groans. His head’s thrown back, bare skin shining and making him look likesome sort of beautiful devil.

“Hurry up, little wolf,” he almost pleads.

The sound of that stupid fucking nickname does me in, and I come with a loud moan. I would’ve kicked him in the head if he hadn’t immediately dropped down on top of me to kiss me without abandon.

His hips still but he keeps kissing me until he has to break for air.

I’m boneless and limp beneath him, and he looks me over with male satisfaction.

Then his mouth drops open, betrayal in his eyes, and he says, “I just realized you didn’t speak even French! All these weeks of me fucking fantasizing about that... well, I guess we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Accorde moi un instant,” I pant in French, asking for a moment.

He grins down at me. “Take your time. We have a lifetime.”

My lips twitch, and I don’t stifle the urge to smile.

I’m about to say something, but then his expression turns serious. “You realize I have to fuck you on my desk now. Equality and whatnot.”

I laugh and pull his mouth to mine. “As long as you know I’m still not giving you my side of the bed.”

He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth. “We can share.”

We get married seven days later, surrounded by a crowd of family, dirty politicians, thieves, drug and arms dealers, and friends.

In the past week, we’ve solidified our business model to a thing of perfection. I handle public relations, real estate and development, and negotiations for the shipping business. Cassian handles both the Bratva and Cosa Nostra soldiers in New York, training new recruits, drug distribution, and negotiations for the arms business.

Basically, I do what I’m good at, and he does what he’s good at.

I know it’s ridiculous to trust someone with half my business after only a month of knowing them, but like Cassian said, I was tired of doing this shit alone.

I’d been dreading the future, dreading taking over and doing everything myself. And now I don’t have to.

I have him to lean on, him to trust.

Looking up, I notice him watching me as we dance, not at all paying attention to the crowd. “What are you thinking about, little wolf?”

“I’m thinking how I thought of this marriage as nothing but an alliance at first. I guess it still is that, but... it’s also more.” He spins us around to the music, watching me with a knowing expression. “You’re more to me than that. And I’m... I’m happy. Working with you and the thought of our future makes me happy.”

He smiles.

“You love me,” he states with quiet confidence.

My heart starts pounding, because I’ve never told a living person that before.

But it’s never been true before, and it is now, so I respond steadily, “I do.”

“I love you, too, Nesta Orlov. Have since the moment I saw you.” He sounds so relaxed about it, the words falling from his lips so easily.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” I ask, not understanding how he’s the calm one all of a sudden.

“Anything you love something, there’s the risk you could lose it or it could hurt you.” Cassian brushes a thumb over my cheek. “But I could never be scared to love you.”

I shake my head and start to say something, but he cuts me off.

“Every morning, when you wake up, there’s this little moment where you look around, confused. And then you look at me, and that hesitation in your eyes just... melts.” He dips me, wrapping his arms tight around me. “You look at me like you trust me, and love me, and want me.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “That look is worth every risk and hardship and whatever else loving someone entails.”

I kiss him back as he brings us to standing. “Italians are such saps.”

He shows off the smile I’ve realized he only gives me, and I say the words I know he needs to hear just as badly as I did. “I love you, Cassian. You’re worth the risk, too.”

______________________________________________________

THANK U FOR READINGGG soft ending for the win

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acotar #acosf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #nessian archeron

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harrytpotter · 4 years ago

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A 100 Years of Love — One-Shot

Plot: James Potter asks Y/N - his best friend - for advice on how to impress a certain girl he fancies, unbeknownst to him that she was hopelessly in love with him.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

A/N: Here i am twice in the same day with a new James imagine, because that’s how obsessed with him I am! Hope you guys like it, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my mother language, hence any probable grammar mistake. :)

Being a sixth year at Hogwarts was bittersweet. As much as you were happy that studies were almost over and so were the anguish concerns about exams, grades and graduating, you were also undeniably sad as you could feel the end of it all approaching at a fast pace. To think you soon wouldn’t be able to wander through the castle’s hallways after curfew with your friends, feeling the thrill of not knowing whether you’d be catched or not; to think you wouldn’t party hard with them at the Gryffindor tower after a Quidditch win; to think you wouldn’t be surrounded by your friends 24 hours a week; and, lastly but most importantly, to think you wouldn’t be seeing him often, it just... hurt. Not that seeing him every single day didn’t hurt at all. Specially since the gossip that he fancied one of your best friends had spreaded like wildfire through the school about a year ago. Sighing heavily, you close your book and set it aside as you leant against the thick trunk of a three, staring at the sunny sky above you.

“Y/N L/N, just the person I’ve been looking for!” An overly-confident male voice shouted from behind you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, feeling his arrogant smirk radiating through the air.

“What now, Potter? Lily isn’t here, in case you haven’t noticed,” you tease your friend, a grin on your face trying to mask the twinge of sad that hit your heart as you said that.

“I may wear glasses but it doesn’t mean I’m blind, you know?!” He shrugs, a grimace stamped on his face as he sat in front of you. “Would you help a friend out, love?” He adds with a wink.

“Well, I’ll regret saying yes to you, won’t I?” You frown with conformity. It’s not like you could say no to him anyway.

“Excuse me? Since when saying yes to me gets you in any sort of trouble, darling?” He smirks sneakily at you, his hand in his chest in mock offense.

“Aren’t you a complete arse, James Potter?!” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t stop a grin from taking over your lips.

“Oh, please, you know you love me,” he winks at you, causing you to get all flustered. That was the problem with James: he was a flirt by nature. That’s just who he was, he couldn’t help it. It was simply a trait of his personality. He would flirt aimlessly without even noticing he was doing so. He couldn’t be blamed. Still, it didn’t help to ease the effect it — and he — had on you.

“Just say what you bloody want already,” you sigh.

“So, there’s this girl I’ve been trying to impress for quite some time now but, bugger me, she doesn’t seem to give a single shite about me at all,” he starts, staring intensely into your eyes.

“Have it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, she’s not that into your arrogant self?” You tease, cutting him off.

“Merlin’s beard, would you let me finish before judging, woman?” He rolled his eyes at you. “As I was saying, I need to win her over before a git gets in the way of our love story.”

“Love story? Seriously?” You laughed even though you didn’t feel an ounce of amusement in your body. “James, look, i don’t mean to discourage you or anything, but are you sure it’s not the time to give up?” You shoot him a sympathetic glance. Lily really didn’t seem to care about him at all, just like he said. Of course you couldn’t know it for sure, since you were so bloody afraid to ask her if she liked him back, but you knew your best friend. She would’ve sent him signs by now if she too was interested. At least that’s what you hoped, since the last thing you wanted was to be head over heels for the same guy your best friend was smitten with.

“I’m not known to give up that easily, love. Besides, I can’t seem to back away from this, and believe me, I’ve tried,” he stated, his eyes distant as he was lost inside his own head.

You feel a sudden anger at him. Despite your deep infatuation for James and the friendship the two of you shared, Lily was your best friend and you didn’t like the sound of what he just said. “Oh, so that’s what it’s all about to you? A challenge? Some kind of game?”

“No! Y/N, no...” he quickly exclaims, snapping back to reality. “She’s much more than that. She’s... she makes me feel things, you know?! Things I’ve never even known that were possible to feel. She annoys me, teases me, makes me go mad of desire and despair every time she smiles at me and... Merlin, that smile! I swear to you that it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Every time she walks in it’s just like... I’m staring at the sun, she makes everything so much brighter. She makes life so much brighter. She drives me nuts. Damn, I’m in love!” He blurts out, his face filled with devotion, admiration and a burning passion.

Every word that got out of his mouth was like a stab right into your heart. Hearing he say those things hurt more than you ever thought it would. This was the first time he had ever admitted his feelings towards Lily to you, even though you were his best friend. You stared at the grass whilst taking a deep breath, cautiously making sure you’d be able to hide the hurt in your voice and eyes before you could look at him or speak again.

“Well, sounds like you’re serious about her,” you smiled softly at him. It didn’t reach your eyes but you made sure he wouldn’t notice that. “Orange petals lilies,” you add after a while. “In some muggle cultures lilies are tied to 100 years of love. They are also tied to good luck. Plus they mean infatuation, attraction and admiration. Pretty much what you just said you feel. I think it’s very suitable,” you managed to squeeze his arm reassuringly, showing him he had your support. Afraid that you would be unable to keep repressing the sadness that threatened to take you over, you get up and start walking, leaving a thoughtful James behind.

“Thank you, L/N!” He shouts.

“Anytime, Potter,” you answer without turning back to face him, quickening your pace as the tears began to flood your eyes.

***

After your conversation with James, it looked like he and Lily were everywhere you went. Whispering secretively, giggling together in the corners of the castle. Painfully reminding you that you weren’t the one for him. Like now. You couldn’t stop but staring at them, not sure whether to feel happy or bitter.

“Seeing anything interesting?” Sirius snook up on you, whispering into your year, causing you to jump in fright.

“Merlin! You scared me, you daft dimbo!” You slap him in the head with the book you had in your hands.

“Ouch! I’m not the one you’re mad at, should i remind you!” He exclaimed vigorously, protecting his head with his arm.

“I’m not mad at anyone!” You shoot angrily, hitting him again with your book.

“Would you stop hitting me, for Merlin’s sake?”

“What’s going on here?” Lily asks. When you turn around to face her, you’re met by hers and James’ inquisitively stares.

“Just a little PDA, right Black?!” You smirk ironically at him, leaving before anyone else could say anything.

“What just happened?” Remus asked intrigued whilst approaching the little group of friends, joining Sirius, Lily and James in watching you disappear into the castle.

“That, my friend, is what jealousy can do to a person,” Sirius shrugged, a grimace on.

“What do you mean by that?” James asks, frowning in confusion.

“I mean that she was staring at you and Lily, mate,” Sirius winked at his best friend.

“But why would she be jealous at all?” He shrugged, even more confused.

“Boys can be so stupid sometimes,” Lily rolls her eyes at him, clearly amused at his obliviousness.

As James continued to look confuse, Remus intervened: “The rumors. About you and Lily.”

“Oh!” He opened his mouth in realization, soon looking confused again. “But these rumors just started because Lily and I were spending more time together as she was advising me to act on my feelings and confess them to Y/N!” He shrugged.

“But she doesn’t know that, does she now genius?” Lily smacked the back of his head with her hand.

“WAIT!” James shouts suddenly, gaining a frown from the little crowd. “Does- does it mean she... likes me?” He asks, his eyes twinkling with hope.

“Prongs... what have we been telling you for the past year, you idiot?” Remus shook his head in disbelief at his friend.

“Well, I assumed you were all just saying that so I could grow the courage and ask her out,” he shrugged.

“You’re more stupid than people give you credit for, do you know that?” Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes and smiling.

James stood there for a few seconds before speeding off towards the near mirror that held a secret passage to Hogsmeade behind it.

“Where exactly are you going?” Remus shouted at his friend.

“To secure myself a 100 years of love!” He shouted back, a wide grin shining on his face.

“Has he gone mental?” Sirius asked Remus and Lily, a brow furrowed.

“Hasn’t he always been?” Lily retorts, causing all three of them to explode in a laughter.

***

“Oi! L/N!” James shouted from behind you and you slowed your pace so he could catch up with you.

“Don’t you have someone else to torture?” You ask him, playfully rolling your eyes, once he was walking beside you.

“Probably, but I choose you,” he winks and stops in front of you, both of his hands rested on your shoulders.

“Lucky me!” You raise your brows ironically.

“Always so sweet, huh love?” He laughs and you can feel your knees trembling. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” He winks at you suggestively before turning around and leaving you.

You stare at him in confusion and shrug before continue to walk to your destination. He could be quite weird sometimes.

***

As you approached the door of the dorm you shared with Lily, Marlene and Alice, your eyes spot a beautiful vase full of orange lilies inside. “Just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” James’ words crept back to your mind as you stared at the beautiful flowers. This was it. The day he would finally confess his feelings to Lily and ask her out. With your eyes filled with tears, you duck a little and pick up the vase, getting inside the dorm. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized it was empty, putting the flowers carefully on top of Lily’s nightstand and locking yourself into the bathroom, finally allowing the tears to fall violently down your face.

Casting a silencing spell so no one could hear you, you stare at your broken self in the mirror. “This is the last time you’ll ever cry for him. The last time you’ll allow yourself to feel anything other than friendship for him. He’s smitten with Lily and they deserve to be happy together,” you say to your reflection before prepping yourself to get into the bath to take a relaxing and long shower.

After changing into your pajamas and making sure you looked presentable and your eyes weren’t swollen of puffed, you remove the silencing spell and unlock yourself out of the bathroom. Lily was sitting in your bed waiting for you, the flowers and a card in hand. You pressed your lower lip between your teeth to suppress the wave of sadness forming inside of you once again. Of course she’d want to tell you that James had finally asked her out and talk about it, you were her best friend after all.

“Nice flowers,” you say whilst sitting by her side and pulling your pillow into your lap.

“I do think they’re nice myself, I just don’t understand why would you put your nice flowers on my nightstand,” she frowns with a smirk.

“I’m sorry? My flowers?” You ask her, confused.

“Well, aren’t you Y/N L/N?” She offers you the card.

“Yes, but... these are not for me! James sent them to you!” You raise your hands in denial, not even bothering to pick up the card nor look at it.

“Merlin help me! If you bothered yourself to look at the bloody card you’d see it doesn’t say Lily Evans on the envelope,” she rolls her eyes, swinging the card in front of your face.

Reluctantly, you grab the card from her hand and look at its envelope. It had your name in the back of it, written in James’ calligraphy. Your heart started pounding furiously inside your chest as you opened it in shock. Inside of it, there was a little note from him. You start reading it out loud so Lily could hear it, noticing the curious glare she was sending you.

“Hello, my little private sun!

If I, by any chance, make your life as brighter as you make mine, please meet me on the top of the Astronomy Tower at twelve o’clock sharp. I really hope you can make it, love. There’s something I need to properly tell you.

Yours and yours only, Prongs.”

You stood there staring at the parchment, your mouth wide open. Did it mean he liked you? What about Lily? What about the gossiping?

“Well...” Lily swing her head inquisitively. As you continued to stand still, staring at the note with a dumbfounded look, she adds impatiently, “just go, woman!”

Glancing at the watch on your nightstand, you jump out of bed. 11:50 pm.

“Damn you, Potter!” You exclaim before speeding off the dorm, hearing Lily’s screams of excitement behind you.

You ran through the castle’s hallways as fast as you could, as if your life depended on it. The paintings and portraits on the walls shouted words of annoyance as you passed by them in a blur with your wand lit up, but you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t care about being caught. You couldn’t care about Filch or McGonagall, let alone the detention you’d be rewarded with by her if any of them surprised you out of bed at this late hour of night. All you cared about was getting to James. He was always all you cared about.

***

James glanced at his wrist and let out a sigh, it was 00:05 am and you still haven’t showed up. Sitting on the floor, he stares at the stunningly starred night sky. He felt a tightening in his stomach. What if all of your friends were wrong and you only saw him as a friend? Before he could torture himself any longer with his despairing thoughts, he hears the door crackling open and gets up, turning around to face a breathless Y/N.

“You came!” He exclaims softly, gazing at you with relief.

“Where else would I be you idiot?” You frown happily at him, closing the door behind you and taking a look at your surroundings.

The walls had been enchanted by James to look like the night sky outside, a similar spell seen in the ceiling of the Great Hall. Stars were twinkling brightly all around you and the floor was covered in orange lilies.

“Wow, Potter, you really outdone yourself here, didn’t you?” You looked amazed at him.

“I might have had a little help from Flitwick and Minnie, you know, us being their favorite students and all...” James joked teasingly as he started to walk slowly towards you.

“I guess being the teachers favorites really has its perks,” you frown playfully, slowly walking in his direction as well. “I believe you have something you need to properly tell me?”

“Oh, yes! About that, I wanted to thank you for your help with the girl I’m madly in love with. It worked out smoothly!” He winked, causing you to laugh.

“‘m always happy to help you! Hope she‘s worth the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, she totally is! In fact, she’s so worthy that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to win her over.”

“And why all of this determination in winning her heart? If I’m allowed to ask,” your narrow your eyes, that held a burning fire inside of it.

“Because she’s all I can think about and all I care about. She’s in my head when I wake up and still is in my head when I go to sleep. She’s bloody stubborn and challenging and annoying and... Merlin, I love her,” he says playfully and tenderly as you finally are in front of each other, faces merely inches apart. He rested his hands on your waist, tightening his grip as he did so.

“That’s good to know,” you whisper, staring at his eyes, breathing unsteadily whilst landing your hands on his chest.

“And why is that?” He asks, his eyes swinging from your eyes to your lips.

“Because she can’t stop thinking about this arrogant, overly-confident stupid boy either. And she also loves him, so much it consumes her,” you answer, staring at his lips hungrily.

“Are you being serious right now? I mean, are- are you sure? I don’t wanna pressure you or-,” he starts, looking into your eyes nervously with a longing frown. Not even resembling the self-assured Quidditch team captain and most popular guy in Hogwarts.

You chuckle lightly at his adorable worried face and bite your lower lip whilst smiling sweetly at him.

“Of course I’m sure, you blind daft! Just kiss me already, for Merlin’s sake!” You exclaim, pulling him by his shirt collar into a passionate kiss.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #harry potter #harry potter x reader #the marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #lily evans #lily evans x reader #oneshot

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e-vasong · 4 years ago

Note

Not sure if youre taking the whumptober asks but can I request #6 with five? 👀 Also sorry new to Tumblr so not sure if I'm doing this right lol love your writings btw!! ❤

Oh!! YES I LIKE THIS ONE. It is not October, but I’m not so much “participating” in Whumptober as I am just using it to kick myself into gear with writing.

I may kinda suck at filling prompts, even when I ask for them, but when I do...it takes a really long time because this was supposed to be 1000 words max and is actually like. almost 3000 words of shameless whump. WHOOPS. Most of this is under a cut, because it’s long and...well, whumpy.

TW: Torture, electrocution

No. 6: Please... “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please.”

“Hm,” Agent Finch laid the bloody pliers back on the metal tray with a clatter. “You’re as resilient as I remember, Number Five.” He sneered the words, hands tightening into fists at his sides.

Five supposed that Finch meant for that to be a threat, but he just couldn’t bring himself to take it seriously.

“Go ahead and hit me, Finch,” he gave the man an affable smile. “If you really throw your back into it, it might even hurt.”

The provocation worked. Finch did hit him, then. Right across the face. The force of the blow snapped Five’s head off to the side, slamming his skull into the metal back of the chair. The steel reverberated, the noise echoing painfully in Five’s ears. It did hurt, in a distant sort of way, but Five had found that being punched was always more jarring than it was painful. Not to mention the fact that it was just bad technique. After all, if you really rung someone’s bell...

Well, in an interrogation, where the goal was to disorient your target and trick them into giving you vital information, a concussion could be useful. But it was a poor tool for torture because it made it easier to zone out, to forget about the pain. And if Finch were any good at his job, he’d know that.

Five sighed. “Ouch,” he said, voice droll. He worked his jaw experimentally. Everything seemed like it was still in its proper place, though the movement tugged painfully on the bruise that had already started to blossom across his left cheek.

“You can’t fucking run, Five,” Finch said. There was a new speck of blood on his chin, bright against his salt-and-pepper stubble. “I know you. I’d say we have a good half hour before you can jump again; probably longer, with you in pain like this--” Five couldn’t repress the laugh that bubbled up in his chest at that. “Which is plenty of time for me to make you regret ever crossing--oh for fuck’s sake! What are you laughing about?”

“Oh,” Five rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great.”

“What?” Finch’s hand returned to the metal tray, grabbing the pliers again. “Not enough pain for you? Fine. Another fingernail, then.”

Boring, Five thought. A sadistic appetite with no real vision or talent to follow it through, that was Finch’s problem. He watched with disinterest as Finch pressed the pliers against his left ring finger, readying himself to breathe through the inevitable pulse of pain that was coming.

“No!” The shout came with a clatter of chains and cuffs as Diego jerked against his bonds. Five jumped, and Finch did too, pliers slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a clang. Huh. They’d both forgotten, somehow, that Diego was here too.

“You sick son of a bitch,” Diego bit out, the dramatic fucker. Five’s annoyance was practically a living creature inside of him. Diego’s hero complex was both entirely predictable and deeply unwelcome, since Five had this very much under control, not that Diego much seemed to care.

“Shut up!” Five and Finch snapped at the same time, voices overlapping as they spoke.

There was a brief lapse in conversation, the room falling silent as they both processed what had just happened. Finch whipped around to glare at Five, and Five glared sullenly back. He wasn’t about to be the one to break eye contact, but it was more annoying than he’d admit to accidentally end up on the same wavelength as his oldest and most incompetent acquaintance from the Commission.

“Why?” Diego said, responding only to Finch. “Because you’re some twisted fuck that gets off on torturing children?”

Diego could be dangerously intelligent when he wanted to be, but he was a bad actor under pressure. And this was a stupid, blatantly obvious attempt at provocation, even by Diego’s standards.

So of course Finch turned back towards Diego, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Diego,” Five said, a warning in his voice.

“You know full well that your brother isn’t as young as he looks,” Finch said, talking over Five. His voice was calm, but he was moving closer towards Diego as he spoke, successfully baited.

“Oh, sorry,” Diego said, yanking on his chains again defiantly. They rattled against the ceiling pipe above Diego’s head and Diego winced. The struggling was likely doing no favors for the discomfort of his position. “I guess that makes torturing him alright, then.”

“Your brother,” Finch said, “was supposed to be my backup on a job once. Instead, he shot me in the back and left me for dead.”

Diego, to his credit, looked utterly unfazed by Finch’s unfavorable and one-sided description of their former partnership, even though it was, essentially, accurate.

“Your back? Really?" He jerked his chin in Finch’s direction. “Damn, I’d have guessed he hit you in the face. Maybe he should have. Can’t get any worse than this.”

Finch punched him, which seemed to be his default reaction to everything that upset him, the neanderthal. His fist collided with a sickening crack, and Diego went limp. Five stiffened in his chair. For all that he’d critiqued Finch’s technique, the man was still a burly six feet, almost all of it muscle. A poorly-gauged blow--and Five did not trust Finch to gauge anything well--could do more grievous damage than Finch may have intended.

“Diego?” Five called. If Finch killed one of his siblngs, Five wouldn’t much care whether it was an accident or not.

There was a heart-stopping moment where Diego didn’t respond. He just hung there, limp and unmoving. Five’s breath caught in his throat.

Then a shudder passed through him, and Diego’s head lifted slightly. “”M fine,” he muttered, though he was clearly too disoriented to raise his head all the way. His eyelashes were fluttering as he fought for consciousness, and a bit of bloody spittle dripped from his mouth to the ground.

“Five’s right,” Diego said. He was slurring his words. That was bad. “That barely even hurt.”

But Finch didn’t respond to the jab this time, not the way that that he did when Five had resorted to the same taunt. Instead, he stopped to look at Five.

“Did you...?” Finch tilted his head to the side, looking thoroughly bewildered. And then his face split into a wide, almost hysterical grin. “My, my,” Finch said, and Five went stiff.

Finch’s smile was smug, like the cat that caught the canary, which was a disorienting turn of events. Five was used to being the cat, not the songbird, and he rather liked it that way.

“What?” Five said, terse.

“You almost sounded...God, what’s the word?” Finch said. “Oh, I know! Concerned.”

“About him?” Five scoffed. “In his wildest dreams.”

But it was too little, too late. Finch’s lips twisted upwards in a vicious grin.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “After all this time. You know, we used to gossip about you in the break room. Wonder if Five, the best assassin the Commission had ever seen and the Handler’s favorite little pet, had a weakness we could exploit. We never did figure it out. Who would have realized...” Finch turned back towards Diego and grabbed him by the jaw, tilting Diego’s head upwards as if to get a better look at him. “That it was something so...sentimental.”

Finch laughed. “I mean,” he continued, “we had some really crazy bets going. But this is just-it’s just--oh, don’t scowl at me, I’m trying to give you a compliment. I guess I really didn’t see this coming from you of all people. I didn’t even realize you had emotions. Other than, you know, anger and irritation. Those I knew about.”

Five opened his mouth. Finch hushed him. “Don’t lie to me, Five,” he said. “You should have heard yourself just now. That was the most scared you’ve been all night. You have a soft spot! All this time, I’ve been hitting the wrong target. You should have said something earlier.”

Five grit his teeth furiously. “Leave it, Finch.”

“No,” said Finch simply. He walked back towards Five, and Five knew better than to think that Finch was coming back for him. Instead, Finch gathered up a handful of cables, loose electrical wires sticking out of the rubber on one end, plugged into a large metal device on the other, and winked.

“Enough,” Five said, lowly. “Finch. Finch!”

“’S fine,” Diego spat. “I can take it, Five.”

No. Five struggled, but it was fruitless. Finch palmed some sort of button on the device, and the air around them filled with an electric hum. Finch strode idly back towards where Diego was strung up--the device was by Five’s side, presumably because Finch had meant to use it on him, but the cables ran long enough that Finch reached Diego without needing to pull them taut.

“Finch!” Five tugged sharply at the leather straps that kept his arms bound to the chair. No luck.

“Hm,” Finch was in front of Diego again. “Let’s try it out.” And then he reached out and pressed the exposed wires to a patch of exposed skin on Diego’s collarbone.

Diego tensed. Five could see the muscles in his neck clenching as he grit his teeth. He didn’t scream. He likely couldn’t, paralyzed by agony, but the anguished groan he made in the back of his throat spoke volumes.

Five twisted fruitlessly in his bonds. He heard something in his right hand crack, the thumb popping out of place. He wouldn’t be surprised, from the feel of it, if a few bones had broken too. But even so, the leather was simply too tight.

He couldn’t get free.

Finch held it for a moment, then pulled the cable away. Diego sagged, panting heavily. A few more tremors went through him, aftershocks as his body processed the pain.

“That all you got?” Diego slurred.

“No,” Finch said. “It isn’t.” But before he proceeded, he turned his attention back towards Five. “You see? All this over a couple dead civilians?” he asked. “You realize that I’m going to kill your brother, right? Was it really worth it?”

“Stop,” Five’s voice cracked. He pulled at his bonds again, paying particular attention to his now-broken hand. If he could just force it, he could get free. In his old body, he might have been able to do it--sure, it hurt, but pain was nothing in the face of the panic coursing through him. But in this body, he just wasn’t strong enough. “Please. Finch!”

“Wow.” That did seem to give Finch pause. He clicked his tongue, sizing Five up thoughtfully. “You know, the begging is a nice touch. It’s really making this whole experience a lot more enjoyable for me.”

Then he pressed the wires to Diego’s throat again. Diego twisted in agony, and Five knew that Finch wasn’t going to let up this time.

Diego was going to die. Five yanked against the leather straps again as he jerked forward, overtaken by instinct. It couldn’t end like this. He couldn’t let it.

And then he was free. With a flash of blue light, he stumbled out of a jump right behind Finch. Finch dropped the cable immediately, even before he turned around, likely recognizing the distinctive sound of Five’s warping. The live wire sparked on the ground.

Five didn’t bother with grabbing a weapon. Finch twisted around, and Five punched him in the face with his good hand. Finch staggered, though he caught himself on a nearby pillar of concrete before he could fall. But Five was behind him before he could regain his balance. He got an arm around Finch’s neck, braced his mangled hand against Finch’s jaw, and twisted hard.

Five felt the bone break under his hands, just beneath the brainstem. Even pained and concussed, his technique was perfect. Finch collapsed to the ground, dead before he even hit the floor, and Five had just enough wherewithal left in him to angle the corpse so it fell on top of the live cable’s exposed wires.

“H-holy shit, Five,” Diego said. Five’s heart twisted slightly at the sound. Lapsing back into his stutter like he was, Diego sounded so like the young, childish version of himself that Five had left behind all those years ago.

“One sec,” Five said slowly, lifting a finger to silence his brother. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying, which was...a bad sign. The world had started swimming strangely around him, and adrenaline could only keep him upright for so long. But he needed to get them out of there.

He stumbled his way over towards the machine that the cable was hooked up to, hitting the button so that it shut off. Then he found the lever connected the chains that were keeping Diego strung up and pushed it down. The mechanism released, and Diego stumbled to the floor, hitting his hands and knees with a pained groan.

“Motherfucker,” Diego said, rolling his shoulders. He was still shuddering from the electric shock.

“I’ve got you,” Five said, trying to keep his voice steady. He made his way back over to Diego. The notion of collapsing beside him was tempting, but Five resisted the urge. “Come on, we gotta...we gotta go.”

“How-how’d you j-jump?” Diego asked. “I th-thought you were at your lim...your limit.”

“I was,” Five said. “Adrenaline. Hell of a drug.”

“What?” Diego arched an eyebrow. “D-dude, you like one-one of those moms that lifts a car when they see their kid is trap--” Diego had to stop and close his eyes for a moment. “Trapped?” he finished, more smoothly this time.

“No,” Five snapped. “That’s stupid. And it’s called hysterical strength.”

“Whatever,” Diego rolled his eyes, in a manner that clearly suggested that he didn’t believe Five but was too tired to push the matter any further. “Just d-don’t collapse on me, al...alright?”

“I don’t plan on it,” Five said wryly. And then his world listed off to the side. “Oh.”

He doubled over and threw up a mouthful of blood and bile.

“Shit,” Diego said, scrambling forward to steady Five as he sank to his knees.

“Shit,” Five echoed, and passed out.

***

He woke up in a hospital bed, a monitor of some sort beeping monotonously in the background.

Five sat bolt upright the moment his location registered. What the hell?

He wasn’t hooked up to much. There was just the IV sticking out of the back of his left hand, which was an unusual change of pace. Five turned and reached over to rip the IV out, only to see that his right hand was bandaged. Heavily.

Shit. He’d use his teeth then.

Five had just lifted his hand to his mouth when a bleary voice murmured: “Five...?”

He recognized that voice. Five blinked and looked up.

“Diego?” he asked. The burning panic in his chest extinguished, leaving only embarrassment in its wake.

This was clearly just...a normal hospital. Diego looked exhaustedly back at him from where he sat half-slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair that had obviously been requisitioned from elsewhere and dragged over to Five’s bedside. He had an expression on his face like he wasn’t quite sure whether Five was losing his mind or not.

“What are you doing?” Diego said slowly.

Five hesitated a moment longer, then lowered his hand back down to his side. “What happened?” he countered, pretending like Diego hadn’t spoken.

Diego narrowed his eyes, but thankfully let Five’s evasiveness pass without comment. “Some Commission asshole kidnapped us. Spent some time making mincemeat out of us--mostly you--and then you warped so hard that you tore your stomach lining.”

Five did remember that, now that Diego mentioned it. Well, not the stomach lining bit, but that was presumably the explanation for the bloody vomit.

“Huh,” Five said. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Don’t fucking do it again,” Diego commanded, with all the presumptuousness of a child who thought they could get away with bossing around their elders.

“How long has it been?” Five turned narrowed eyes to Diego. “You should be in bed. You need to be monitored for cardiac arrhythmia.”

“It’s not--don’t worry about--”

“I fucking knew you were here,” hissed Ben from the doorway. Diego jumped.

“Ben,” Five said, relieved. Finally, someone with common sense. “Get this idiot out of here.”

Ben froze like a deer in the headlights, startled. His head jerked up to look at Five, and the irritation and concern clouding his expression evaporated as he broke into a relieved grin.

“You’re awake,” he said, soft and pleased. He stepped fully into the room.

“You can’t be serious,” Five said as Ben plopped down on the foot of the bed, gently pulling Five into a quick, tight embrace. “Both of you are ridiculous.”

“Oh,” Diego mocked. “How dare we be concerned.”

Five rolled his eyes and spread his hands slightly, gesturing to the hospital room around them. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Diego said. “You look fantastic. Really, uh, in the peak of health right now, huh? Gonna go get up and run a marathon?”

Ben let out a little snort of amusement, and Five glared at them both, utterly betrayed.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Five couldn’t ever remember being as relentlessly young and foolish as his brothers--or ever needing this much minding, for that matter. At the skeptical noise Diego made in the back of his throat, Five tilted his head to the side and said, archly, “Which one of us is still in bed and which one snuck away from medical attention, Diego?”

“Ah, fair point,” Ben turned to Diego, still smiling.

“Oh yeah?” Diego said, sensing that the tide was turning against him and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “And what were you doing when you were trying to rip your IV out with your teeth, again?”

Five straightened his back. “Diego,” he hissed, but it was too late.

Ben frowned, an expression full of worry and brotherly disappointment. “Five!” he said, clearly dismayed. Five wilted slightly. Was this how Klaus felt all the time? “Why would you do that?”

Five cast a sidelong glance at Diego. “I was just disoriented,” he said. “That’s all. And I’m better now, so it’s hardly worth getting riled up over.” It probably wouldn’t have taken him long to realize that he was just in a regular hospital once he made it out to the hallway.

Once he had...he probably would have gone stumbling off to look for Diego, Five could admit that much to himself. But he certainly didn’t need to tell his brothers that. No one could prove that he was lying.

“Just,” Five waved them both off. “Take Diego back to bed.”

“For fuck’s sake, Five,” Diego said. “I’m just worried.” Then, as if sensing that Five was not his best bet, he turned mournful eyes towards Ben. “Just a little longer, Ben. Then you can rat me out to the damn nurses.”

Ben’s lips twisted thoughtfully as he glanced between them. “A couple minutes,” he finally conceded with a sigh. “It’s not like you won’t just break out again anyways.”

“Ha!” Diego said, too loudly. Five winced, the noise aggravating the pulsing headache that Five hadn’t even realized he had. “...Whoops.”

Five glared.

“Sorry,” Diego’s voice was closer to a whisper now. He reached out, lacing a hand with Five’s and squeezing it apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Five said, ignoring the feeling of warmth that bloomed in his chest. “I’m not made of glass.”

“I’ll leave if you really want,” Diego offered. “We can let you get some rest.”

If he wanted. Ha. Five couldn’t pretend that getting some peace and quiet didn’t have an appeal, but...in it’s own sort of way, it was comforting to have family in the room. Irrefutable evidence that they were still living and breathing, so real that even all his years of knowing they were dead couldn’t override it. But Diego did need to go back to his hospital room; Five wouldn’t be the one to pull him from the care he needed. He refused. But for now...

Five sighed. “Fine,” he said, and squeezed Diego’s hand back. “Just for a few minutes.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #my writing #lONG #contemplating posting this on AO3 but. am uncertain.#also lmfao. me? recycling one-line villains from my unfinished TUA long fic #ITS MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK #anyways this is messy sorry about that #also i dont have a speech impediment! i did a little research but pls let me know if you see something about diego's stutter that can be #./should be better!

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kpop-zone · 4 years ago

Text

Red velvet reaction to their s/o finding out that they started dating them for a bet pt.2

Warning: 2 curse words

Irene

Joohyun didn’t know how long she sat in the living room all on her own while silent tears streamed down her cheeks and her mind was being consumed by her bad conscious. Eventually, however, an endless fatigue took over her body and she knew that it must have been at least a couple of hours. It was probably already three in the morning and she would have to get up in a few hours for work.

“I should probably head to bed.”

Joohyun mumbled under her breath, trying to encourage herself to go the bedroom where you had disappeared a few hours ago. Hesitantly, she stood up and dragged her feet across the living room until she ended up in front of the closed door. She felt stupid for moving around like an intruder in her own apartment, but her bad conscious was telling her that she would indeed invade your personal space if she entered the bedroom now. Not wanting to feel completely exhausted during work though, Joohyun eventually pushed down the door handle and entered the room.

Like expected, you were already asleep, so she tried to get ready for bed as silently as possible before laying down next to you. Despite knowing that she would probably regret it afterwards, Joohyun couldn’t stop herself from taking a glance at you. You were peacefully sleeping now, but your puffy face was giving away that you must have had a hard time falling asleep too. Instant guilt washed over her again and Joohyun slowly reached out to gently stroke your cheek. She hated to make you cry.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish we would have met under better circumstances, but I’m still so glad that we did. I love you so much.”

Joohyun whispered before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I know that you do.”

Your sudden voice caused Joohyun to almost jump off the bed in surprise. Apparently, you weren’t asleep. After calming herself again, Joohyun sheepishly cleared her throat.

“Will you forgive me?”

She asked hesitantly, not knowing whether she wanted to hear the answer.

You were silent for a while, causing Joohyun’s heart to almost jump out of her chest, but she waited patiently for your reply.

“Yes...eventually.”

Your words were more than Joohyun had hoped for and she sighed relieved.

“Ok. Good night, Y/N.”

She tried to accept your decision humbly, nevertheless, Joohyun couldn’t stop a soft smile from tugging on the corners of her mouth. You could punish her for her wrongdoing as much as you wanted to as long as her forever with you wasn’t at stake.

Seulgi

“Why didn’t you just come clean earlier?”

After Seulgi’s sobs had filled the room for the longest time, she eventually managed to calm down in order to talk with her members.

“I-I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare Y/N away in the beginning and then I started to repress the memories of our first encounter at one point. I was just so ashamed of it.”

She buried her face behind her hands, thinking about every lie that she had ever told you because of the bet.

“I just don’t want to lose Y/N.”

Seulgi sniffled and Seungwan comfortingly patted her back.

“Then go and talk to Y/N. You guys are perfect for each other. I know that you can fix it.

The other members nodded in agreement, causing Seulgi to anxiously chew on her bottom lip.

Shouldn’t she give you more time to process everything? Or would that make you think that she didn’t care? Seulgi knew that she couldn’t risk the latter.

“You’re right. I need to see Y/N.”

Determined, she jumped off the bed before grabbing a random pair of shoes and a jacket to rush to your apartment. In less than half an hour, Seulgi was standing in front of your door, looking like a mess, but with your favorite snacks and flowers in her hands. Nervously, she rang your doorbell and shifted from one foot to the other while waiting for you to let her in. The sound of movements on the other side were giving away that you were home, nevertheless, the door didn’t swing open immediately. It took Seulgi several more knocks and a near heart attack caused by nervousness until you finally revealed your puffy face to hear.

“Why? Why did you accept such a horrible bet? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Just...why?”

You blurted out immediately before allowing her to greet you. The hurt in your voice was bringing tears to Seulgi’s eyes again, but she was telling herself that she needed to stay strong now.

“Because I’m stupid and a horrible person. Believe me, I know that. I’ve already regretted the bet, the moment that I started talking to you. But then we got along so well, and I didn’t want to walk away.”

Nothing brought Seulgi more happiness, yet also pain than thinking back about the day that she had met you. Nevertheless, she kept explaining herself in order to try saving her relationship.

“And I just couldn’t get myself to tell you that I only talked with you because of a bet; I knew that you would have been scared off. Which would have been absolutely understandable; I was just too selfish to accept that.”

The longer Seulgi talked, the more she realized that she didn’t deserve you. What was she even doing here?

“If you are trying to win me back, you are doing a miserable job.”

You chuckled, causing Seulgi’s inner conflict to tear her apart. Wasn’t it selfish to fight for you?

Anxiously, she chewed on her lip, contemplating her options. But no option seemed to be the right one. Only thinking about living without you made her lose her breath. Making another selfish choice, however, didn’t seem to be right either. Several seconds passed while Seulgi was stuck on making a decision until you suddenly grabbed her wrist and piped up.

“If you really regret what you’ve done, then you’re not a terrible person.”

Your words made a tear spill from Seulgi’s eye and she let her head hang in shame. How were you still so nice to her?

“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about everything a little more?”

Without awaiting an answer, you tugged on her arm to pull Seulgi into your apartment. Uncomplainingly, she followed you inside, ready to pour her heart out. Maybe you were willing to forgive; she’d leave the fate of your relationship in your hands.

Wendy

When Seungwan had thought about where her home was in the past, she had always come to the conclusion that it was in your arms. Funny, how that could change in only one night though. She had promised to give you time, and she was exactly planning on doing that. But it was just so hard. You were on her mind 24/7 and with every day her mind was increasingly clouded by controversial thoughts. You needed time to process, but at the same time Seungwan was contemplating whether she should show you that she cared; that she was different now and willing to fight for you. Her thoughts were simply driving her insane and guiding her to your apartment almost every day.

After arriving at your door, however, her insecurities always came rushing back and she never dared to knock. Therefore, the hallway in front of your apartment had basically become her new home by now. She spent hours there, walking up and down and preparing words that you would never get to hear.

Until that unexpectedly changed one night.

Like so often, Seungwan was prowling the hallway in front of your apartment, when a voice suddenly made her jump in surprise.

“Seungwan?”

When she turned around, she could see you standing a few steps in front of her with some grocery bags in your arms. Sheepishly, Seungwan looked to the floor in hopes that it would swallow her in order to remove her from this awkward situation.

“Oh hey, Y/N.”

Seungwan said as nonchalantly as possible as if it had been mere coincident that she met you here. Expectantly though, your gaze bored through her for a while, waiting for an explanation until you realized that she wouldn’t follow up with anything.

“What are you doing here?”

You asked; your voice making it hard for Seungwan to detect your emotions. You weren’t necessarily sounding hostile, but your crossed arms were making it clear that you were still having your guard up.

Nevertheless, Seungwan decided that it was time to show a little more initiative. You had caught her lurking anyways, so she could also use this chance to disclose her feelings.

“I...um...wanted to ask whether you were ready to talk.”

She proposed cautiously while searching for your eyes. You seemed to be contemplating her offer for a second, but then you walked to your door wordlessly. In defeat, Seungwan slouched her shoulders, ready to leave the building in order to give you more time.

“Are you coming in? Or do you want to talk here?”

Your question almost caused Seungwan to choke on her own spit in surprise, but of course, she immediately rushed to your side in order to enter the apartment.

You headed straight to the kitchen which reminded Seungwan of all the good times that you had spent in this apartment together. Her heart stung because of the memories and she hoped that those hadn’t been the last ones that she had collected with you.

“What do you have to say to me?”

You asked while rummaging around in the cupboard to pull out two mugs.

“I came to apologize once more. I know that it was an absolute gruesome thing to accept such a bet. I wish, I could tell you why I did it, but I can’t. It was simply wrong.”

Seungwan immediately got caught up in her emotions again and became incredibly frustrated with herself. Your relationship could be so perfect if she had only had the courage to ask you out without a bet.

“It was wrong.”

You stated coldly, causing Seungwan to avoid your gaze in shame.

“But I am very grateful that you told me about it. It showed me that I can truly trust you.”

Your words completely blindsided Seungwan, but her heart immediately beat twice as fast.

“Does that mean...”

She asked carefully, waiting for you to finish her sentence.

“That I will give you another chance to make it right? Yes.”

You smiled softly, but Seungwan couldn’t process your words.

“Really?”

She blurted out in shock and you nodded while chuckling in amusement.

Pure happiness washed over Seungwan and she leaped to her feet in order to fling her arms around your neck.

She would make sure not to waste this chance.

Joy

“Damn it...how did that get here so fast?”

Sooyoung picked up her pace when she saw you getting into a taxi in front of the restaurant. But her efforts were in vain. Before she could reach the vehicle, it sped off with you inside of it.

“Goddammit!”

She yelled while hastily pulling out her phone to call her driver. As soon as her car arrived, she hopped into it and told the manager to start driving.

“Where to?”

They asked and Sooyoung fell quiet.

Right, where to?

“Think...Where would Y/N go now?”

Sooyoung mumbled under her breath while thinking concentratedly.

You could have ordered the taxi driver to bring you to your apartment, but her intuition was telling Sooyoung that you wouldn’t have done that. You wouldn’t find the comfort there that you were seeking for. No, there was another place that you always went to when you were upset.

Namsan Park.

You had told her once that it made your worries seem so little when you looked at all the city lights. This had to be the place that you had run to.

“Please bring me to Namsan Park.”

Sooyoung asked her driver who immediately started the car.

Even though the car ride didn’t even take half an hour, Sooyoung became increasingly impatient. All of this was taking much too long. She couldn’t give you the time to come to wrong conclusions. Therefore, she leaped out of the car as soon as it came to a halt and started running through the park like a maniac. There were just too many paths, but Sooyoung remembered that you liked to sit right at the edge of the park, so she made her way to the very end where the view over the city was best.

There were hundreds of people enjoying this mild summer night, but it didn’t even take Sooyoung a second to make out your figure. You were sitting on a bench with your head hanging and slumped shoulders. The sight made Sooyoung’s heart clench, but she wasted no time before rushing to you and falling to her knees.

Perplexed, your eyes widened, and you looked at her in disbelief.

“H-how did you find me?”

You stuttered, seeming to be in a state of shock.

“Because I love you and know every little detail about you!”

Sooyoung exclaimed in despair while cupping your hands and pulling them to her lips.

“I know that the city lights make you forget about your worries; I know that your favorite Ramyeon is the one in Gwangjang market next to the booth with the eels and I know that you don’t sleep well when I’m not with you. I can go on and on for days. Do you really think, I know all of those things because of a bet? No, I know them because I love you.”

You didn’t reply and Sooyoung didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad sign. Therefore, she just kept talking.

“I’m sorry for taking that bet. I’m sorry for messing up the beginning of our love story, but I swear that I’m going to make the rest of it more epic than every romcom that you’ve ever watched.”

Finally, your eyes met and Sooyoung could see that the anger from before had disappeared. Therefore, she pressed her lips on your knuckles and stroked your hands lovingly with her thumbs.

“Please forgive me. Please?”

She asked nervously, hoping that her arguments had been enough to convince you of her sincerity.

“Fine.”

You replied, causing Sooyoung to squeal happily. She was about to crash into your arms when you lifted your hand to stop her.

“But...if our love story is anything less but epic, I’m going to leave.”

Your eyes were narrowed warningly, but a smile on your lips was giving away that you were just joking. Relieved, Sooyoung nodded before finally pulling you into her arms.

There wasn’t a wish that she wouldn’t fulfill you.

Yeri

Nothing had ever hurt Yeri more than watching you cry. Your tears streamed down your cheeks for what felt like hours and when the sobs finally died down in the room, Yeri was feeling completely dried out herself. You looked at her with puffy eyes, causing her heart to clench.

“What was the bet?”

You asked and Yeri avoided your gaze. She was too ashamed to look into your eyes while telling the story.

“I went out with some friends and we were having so much fun. We were playing truth or dare, and the dares started to get more and more out of hand until Doyeon dared me to ask you out. She bet 100.000 Won that I wouldn’t manage to convince you to go out with me.”

Yeri took a break and looked at you, just to see that you were nodding as if that was everything that you needed to hear. But there was more. Did you forget how much fun you had on your first date? This stupid bet was just a little bump in the road, everything after that was proof enough that you belonged together.

“Please, Y/N, let’s just forget about the bet. I swear I fell for you right on our first date. I never even took the money, because I knew that the bet was wrong, and I didn’t care about it anymore.”

You scoffed in response, the sadness in your face slowly being replaced by anger.

“Am I supposed to be grateful now? If you had known that it was wrong, why didn’t you just tell me earlier?”

Yeri winced when you hit her weak spot; yes, why hadn’t she told you earlier? Her bad conscious had been telling her all along to come clean, but her fear had mercilessly held her back.

“I didn’t want to lose you...”

She mumbled, aware of how stupid she sounded.

“That’s a really great plan that you had there... You know, if you had told me earlier, there might have been a way to fix this.”

Your words caused Yeri’s eyes to widen and she stared at you in panic.

“Might?? What do you mean? Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

Pure horror flooded Yeri’s body, causing her voice to crack.

“Then tell me how you intend to fix this.”

You replied, crossing your arms impatiently. Yeri was running out of time, she could feel it. She had to trust her guts now, otherwise, you would walk away for good.

“Let’s take a break, so both of us can think about everything. You can process this night and I can reflect on all my wrongdoings. Then we can decide how to continue.”

Although those words hurt Yeri more than anything, she figured that this was the best solution. You were far too agitated right now to make a decision and maybe it wasn’t the worst idea if she thought about her past mistakes.

“Ok.”

Yeri had secretly hoped that you would ask her to stay, but she wouldn’t disrespect your wishes. Therefore, she lingered for a second more to admire you one last time before leaving your apartment.

The following weeks were pure torture for Yeri. Every single day, she dialed your number or drafted a text message for you, only to never reach out to you in the end. She had offered to give you time and she would keep her word. There had been times that she had cursed herself for being so obedient, but when you finally sent her a text after four long weeks, she was glad about her perseverance.

Let’s meet

It was a simple text, but Yeri still danced through her apartment in pure joy. After pulling herself together again, she sent a reply, asking to pick you up in order to grab a coffee and thankfully, you agreed. Therefore, Yeri was standing in front of your door not even an hour later.

Nervously, she fixed her hair one more time before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. This was not a date. There was still the probability that you wanted to meet in order to break up. She needed to keep a clear head and give you space. With that thought on her mind, Yeri rang your door bell. But as soon as you opened the door, all of her good intentions vanished into thin air.

You were looking gorgeous.

Yeri knew that she had missed you, but seeing you again after such a long time, made her realize just how much, because all air was knocked out of her lungs. In pure trance, she stared at you, searching for the right words.

“I’ve missed you.”

Yeri suddenly blurted out, causing her to slam her hand over her mouth. Giving you space definitely looked different. Yeri was sure that you would probably close the door on her now, but instead, you chuckled.

“I’ve missed you too.”

And Yeri hadn’t heard such beautiful words in a long while.

#red velvet reactions #red velvet #red velvet imagine #irene #joohyun #seulgi #wendy #seungwan #joy #sooyoung #yeri #girl group reactions #girl group #kpop reaction #kpop #girl group imagine

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dumbass-mha-simp · 4 years ago

Text

Hawks x Reader: Bad Idea

Another self indulgent Hawks fic that I've literally had in my notes for months. He lives in my head rent free along with my other 22 fake boyfriend's because I'm ✨mentally unstable.✨ It is a song fic tho, Bad Idea ft. Shiloh Dynasty https://youtu.be/kH9hJnT7KkE

youtube

Tw: food, depression, Hawks is honestly just feeling it bro- same dude,

Word count: almost 2k? I think

Requests are open! Honestly I'm probably terrible but the only things I can think to write are those imaginary situations I put myself in

(Y/L/N)- your last name

(Y/N)- your name

Thoughts or emphasized talk are in italics

Also idk why but I imagine he removes his feathers to shower since they probably need different cleaning conditions and also they just seem like a hassle in showers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Here he was, the number two prohero. Everyone assumed his life was perfect, anything he wanted served on a gold platter. He felt the guilt creep up into him.

I should be thankful. The thoughts ate away at his mind in the rare seconds he got alone. You shouldn't be so selfish. So annoying. So insufferable.

Takami pushed these thoughts back. "No one needs to know how you think, Keigo." He whispers out to himself in his office.

He scrawled at paper work, trying to not let the self depreciating thoughts feast away on his mind. Unfortunately for him, different thoughts came up.

His best friend, Rumi had this friend. (Y/L/N). Smart, attractive, sometimes a little rough around the edges, but amazing. He found his mind wandering to them all too often.

They were mostly unknown, despite their insanely strong quirk. They preferred to stay out of the lime-light, through that irritable exterior sat overwhelming anxiety and shyness. But they always denied it.

He stopped himself as he realized he's spent 10 minutes only thinking of them, a friend. Yeah right.

He lazily walked out of the office waving to all his employees as he made his way outside. His eyes slowly dragged to the darkly faded blue sky, dusted in clouds. Cold, tired, aching. Just how he felt.

He took a slow brisk flight to his house, feeling the wind bash his face and the air flow through his feathers. He gently placed a foot on the metal railing of his balcony, taking a deep step to the ground and opening the door.

The emptiness rung through his apartment like a blaring siren. You have everything. How can you still want more?

The voices in his head screamed and clawed their way out. You're nobody. No one ever loved you. You're so alone. You're nothing but a tool to the commission. You're actual character is useless.

He shed his coat, boots, and pants. Looking to himself in the mirror as he removed most of his feathers. He looked exhausted as he stumbled into the shower, numbly.

The next ten minutes seemed to elude him when he wondered how much time has gone by of him staring at the shower wall blankly.

He dried off a bit then looked around his kitchen for something to eat. Have I eaten today? The buzz and light of his phone on the counter startled him.

"Hey, Hawks." A single, simple message from (Y/L/N). Okay don't panic.

"What's up?" He replied swiftly.

"I had this feeling something was wrong and wanted to check up on you."

"Why would you think that?" He tried to play it off like it wasn't true without actually lying.

"I'm not sure. Do you maybe wanna join me?" You asked.

"Where?"

"Well, every once in awhile when I need a break I go and stargaze with a night picnic. It helps me relax, and if you think it might help I'd want to. I can tell something's off." You were always so convincing. It felt like you weren't too nosy or snoopy but you understood.

"Text me where to be and when?" He let out a gentle smile at his phone.

"The dollar store on 4th in 10 minutes? So we can choose some snacks together?"

"I'll be there."

Did Takami think any problems where going to be solved with some food in the dark? No. But would he skip the opportunity to be with you, to find out how he really felt when it was just you two? Absolutely not.

He landed down on the broken pavement outside of the old dollar store, scanning around to see you.

"Boo!" A bump from behind had him flinching to see the sound as you stood behind him giggling. "Got ya."

"Very funny (Y/L/N) the most amazing trick yet." He rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

"C'mon let's go grab a bunch of terrible snacks and call it a picnic, bird brain."

You two walked into the store and walked a large circle around it, choosing chips and candy and drinks at your leisure. Once you got to the counter, he fights you to his wallet.

"It's my picnic."

"And I'm the very special guest who was so generously invited. I'm paying." He grins as you pout at him.

Grabbing the bags you placed them in the back seat as you offered passenger side to him.

"I don't like cars."

"Why not?"

"Cramps my wings."

You look at him with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage. "You already agreed to keep me company and pay for the snacks, let me do something for you?"

"Fine, but only cause you're pouting kid."

He gently sits in your passenger seat as you strap yourself in and turn the car on. The car hums and the music playing softly on the radio are the only things heard. The peace feeling too good to break.

Once you pull your car up into the parking lot of a small park and grab your bags, you begin leading him to your usual place.

"Hold these." You hand him the bags as you jump and climb up on top of a big metal container. You peer over the side with big eyes and a smile as you say to him, "now hand me the bags and do what I did!"

He looks at you with a wide smirk before simply flying up to join you. "Or you can do it the cheater's way." You pouted and bumped his shoulder.

"It's not cheating, it's using my resources." He says with a triumphant smirk.

"Your cheating resources." You pull out your gummy candies and started eating as you leaned back till you were laying down.

"Do you like the stars, Hawks?" You say like your sleep talking, staring into the night sky.

"Keigo." He shifts to lay down about a foot away from you. "You can call me, Keigo. And... I don't think I've ever taken time to look at the stars."

"No sneaking out away from parents to sit on vans and stargaze? Or watching the sunrise with a partner while eating fast food?"

"What kinda date is sitting in a car for hours staring at the sky and eating?" He laughs.

"Ah one that never really happened, he just said he would. But never mind that repressed shit." A sad laugh forces itself out as you stare between the stars.

"Was he cute?" He tried to sound funny but it came out more sympathetic.

"Sometimes," you laugh with him. "But he had really nice hands."

"Hands? That's an odd thing to find attractive." He turned his head over to look at you as your eyes seemed to burn holes in the dark milky blue sky.

He continued laughing with you about this guy but couldn't help an overwhelming feeling of jealousy. Who was he? Did he look anything like him? Was this recent?

"Keigo?" A voice snapped at his train or thought, "Yes, (Y/L/N)?" He replied rushed.

"Do you want your mini cookies?" You ask looking to him with the bag.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks." He mentions grabbing the bag from your finger tips.

He ate his cookies and thought as you seemed either lost in your head, or lost in the stars.

Loving you would be selfish. As such a high ranking hero, he's made a target for himself and anyone around him. He's broken down, can't feel. You obviously have other people on your mind. Someone like you wouldn't be single long.

"When did he leave?" He blurts out without thinking. Maybe it's a sore subject-

"Long ago." You look lost, your eyes searching and wandering but never grabbing hold of exactly where you should be. "Why?" Well I guess if I'm gonna start prying might as well go all the way.

"He thought that maybe he could love me. But now that's just ridiculous," you laugh coldly. "Who would love me?"

"Falling in love with you seems like a really bad idea. But not on your part." He whispers into the wind, hoping it'll carry his words away from you.

"What do you mean?" You look completely confused, almost scattered.

"You're quiet, and I'm someone who puts a spotlight on practically anyone around me. You'd constantly be put in danger. Plus I'm arrogant and cocky, nothing at all like you." He acted like he could see the stars as you could. He stared into them finding any way he could to avoid your eyes.

"You could get hurt or I could annoy you." He whispers.

"I had no idea you felt that way, Keigo." You whisper back, shock keeping your voice quiet.

His eyes burned holes into the night sky, he felt he shouldn't look at you. The mental image of you already wouldn't go away.

"You wanna know something, Keigo? I can read people like books, I can read stars like stories, and I can read in-between lines like they were in bold font. But, you always catch me off guard. Reading you is like a mystery novel. Sometimes intense, sometimes peaceful, but always keeping me wondering." You smile into the stars, you can tell he desperately doesn't want to see your eyes. "You're always leaving everyone on the edge of their seat, and when you leave you can't stop thinking of the next time you'll come. What you'll bring."

"I....I don't think I understand (Y/L/N)-" Keigo's soon cut off.

"(Y/N)"

"Well, (Y/N)- I don't think I understand." He tries to sit up and look at you.

"You catch me off guard, something about you speaks to me in ways I know you never actually would. I can see it, the way you stumble or hesitate. I can tell somethings scared you into silence." You've never had much chance to talk about the ways you analyze people, you wanted to tell him how you could tell the way he acted wasn't always good.

"I think you might be reading too much into this, kid." He tries to intervene.

"I get if you don't want to tell me." You stared up at the stars, waiting for him to do the same. "You see there?" You pointed to a star. "That's a constellation."

"They just look like stars." He seemed a bit disappointed that he couldn't see stars the way you did, with such knowledge and wonder in your eyes.

"That's cause they are," you giggled to him, "it's not like I can actually see the pictures either."

"You.. you can't?" He looked to you confused but slightly hopeful, how could they look at them but not see too?

"That's the whole point, Keigo. It's being able to see what's not really there. Sometimes I stare into the sky hoping to see any semblance of hope, but that's not how it is. You have to teach yourself to look at what could be there." He stared to you, a small content smile graced your face. You were beautiful.

"(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe, loving you isn't such a bad idea.." he looked remorseful, staring into the stars. Maybe he could see it too one day.

"What do you mean?" You glace to him.

"You see so much, you can read and see the things I want to see. I want to learn, (Y/N). I want to see how you do."

The smile on your face spread.

"I'd love to show you."

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tomhardysteeth · 4 years ago

Note

u wanna say anything for spn ending? Today's their last day of filming

Yeah sure! I love how you worded this ask, it makes me want to give a very serious answer. I’ve been rewatching random episodes the past few days and thinking about how much of my life was shaped by this random lil tv show, both positively and negatively, so here we go.

I started watching Supernatural during my junior year of college, when I was grappling with being gay and religious, and had a pseudo-girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. I remember I started watching the show because I had been on tumblr for a while and thought, well this is a popular show on tumblr and looks like something I’d enjoy, so I might as well try it. I remember barely paying attention to the first season and thinking it was kind of silly, and I distinctly remember making fun of it right up until the season 1 finale when that truck slammed into the Impala and I said oh.

I remember sitting in the dining hall between classes, hiding in a corner with my pink headphones and my laptop, watching one episode after the other, completely consumed by it. My personal life was a mess at the time and I was angry and sad and frustrated, but I could forget about everything for a little while when I watched spn. I remember falling in love with Dean Winchester, season 3, when Sam gave him the amulet.

Because I had already spent a lot of time on tumblr, I knew about Castiel. I couldn’t wait to get to season 4, the anticipation killed me. I didn’t really have a choice in shipping destiel, I literally shipped it before I even watched a single episode of the show lol. My first time watching seasons 4 and 5, I remember how mad I would feel every time the opening credits scrolled at the bottom of the screen and Misha Collins wasn’t listed. I cared about almost nothing but Dean and Cas interacting with each other. I was totally enamored by them, by their potential. At some point I got over that and watched the show because I liked the show, but boy did my heart and brain break for destiel.

I broke up with my abusive girlfriend. I started coming out to more people, including people involved in the Christian campus ministry I was heavily involved in, and it was very very hard. It was 2013. The first episode of Supernatural I watched live was the episode where Dean turns into a fucking dog.

I don’t remember when I started reading fanfic, and I had no idea how to read fanfic. A friend invited me to ao3, what is ao3? I didn’t know. I used my email address as my username. I read Twist and Shout and Pie Without Plot and other very popular fics that I knew about because everybody knew about them. I vividly remember the first fics I read because I was 21 years old and had never had an orgasm in my life and believed sex was sinful and so when the sex scenes in fics turned me on, I felt guilty about it.

I quickly got over that and started writing explicit destiel fanfic.

I still had no idea what I was doing. I know the very first fic I ever wrote was a mess, I’ve completely erased all traces of it, but other than that I began posting with abandon. Pretty much everything I’ve ever written for spn is still on tumblr and/or ao3. I was running a Hannibal blog at the time and started posting more Supernatural content than Hannibal content, so I created a sideblog, @deancasheadcanons, and things very quickly got out of hand after that.

I was depressed, I was confused, I was spending my last couple years of college trying to figure out my sexuality, trying to hold onto a religion that was rejecting who I was becoming, trying to find my identity while picking a career path and being sad and being pulled in a hundred different directions. Sometimes I was working three jobs at once, on top of 17-credit-hour semesters. I was getting a degree in a field I did not care about, and I spent every class reading and writing fanfic, scrolling through tumblr, making internet friends, letting my life be consumed by Supernatural. I projected myself completely onto Dean Winchester and partially onto Castiel and did not even realize it.

I started dressing like Dean, and my sister and brother-in-law noticed and assumed I was gay. They were extremely unsubtle in their attempts at getting me to come out by pointing out the flannel and army jackets, and I did not have it in me to admit to them that I was dressing like a fictional character, but I DID tell them I was bisexual.

I went to therapy every week during my senior year of college, and I was embarrassed about how often I talked about my “internet life,” as I called it. I remember having the arbitrary goal of getting 1,000 kudos on a fanfic, and I remember the day it happened for the first time and I remember going to therapy that week and saying that I didn’t feel any different, that I thought getting attention for my writing would make me feel better, somehow, but I still felt the same, and my therapist asked me if I would still be writing if I was the only one who got anything out of it and I said yes. But I was still obsessed with writing things that were meaningful, and despite the fact that I would receive 10 negative/mean anons per day, I never turned anon off because I desperately wanted people to tell me that my writing meant something to them, that it mattered to them. I was fighting with myself every day over my sexuality and my identity and my purpose, and I put all of that on the shoulders of Dean and Cas.

There was also chubby!dean. I had lived my entire life with this inexplicable thing, this shame that I knew I could not share, that I knew I would just have to suffer with for my whole life, and then I joined the spn fandom and found that there were others like me, others that had a fetish and had similar experiences as I did and were drawn to Dean Winchester because there’s no other character that could make eating and gaining weight be as enticing as he makes it (in fanfic). For the first time in my life I had a community of people that I could relate to about a thing that I never thought I would ever be able to talk about with anyone in my life. I don’t remember if I consciously chose to start posting publicly about it, but at some point I did, and I started writing kink fic, but I was still so uncomfortable with myself and so scared of the things I felt, and I tried so hard to temper myself and not offend anyone and not go “too far” and not be too weird and I was so sexually repressed and pent up and full of guilt and shame, and so now when I go back and reread some of the stuff I wrote it feels like reopening an old wound and letting myself bleed out.

I was constantly comparing myself to others and wondering why I wasn’t getting as much attention as so-and-so, and I always made excuses about how maybe my writing was too weird and I was too much and maybe I just wasn’t good enough and I hated myself and wanted to delete everything I ever wrote, but also I’m awesome and receive a lot of attention and get a lot of good feedback but maybe that means I’m just a narcissist! I acted like an asshole online and justified it by saying it wasn’t really me, that I could be someone totally different on tumblr than the person I was in “real life,” but in hindsight, now when I think back on my early 20s, I cannot separate what I was doing in “real life” from what I was doing in the spn fandom. I shared so much of myself with the spn fandom without even recognizing that that’s what I was doing.

And I made mistakes, god I made mistakes, and I tried to be so careful about everything I said but I was also presenting a certain version of myself to the spn fandom so that people would like me (for instance: running a destiel blog and trying my best to hide the fact that I also ship wincest) and still I got in trouble constantly, and I grew bitter and mean because you can only receive the “when are you posting the next chapter?” comment so many times before you want to bang your head into a wall. I became defensive and unkind, afraid to check my inbox because it was a nightmare, and yet unable to turn off anon because, like I said, I desperately needed that feedback, I needed people to tell me that they felt what I felt, that they understood what I was writing and why I was writing it.

I expected Supernatural to give me everything I needed. I fantasized about Dean Winchester being canonically bisexual because I thought it would confirm something in me, that it would somehow make my life a little bit easier. I didn’t want to watch other shows that could maybe help me, I wanted Supernatural to do things for me that it had never promised and would never deliver, and it’s because I was defined by it for so many years. Now that I’m back on tumblr, I’ve been going back through some of my old posts on deancasheadcanons and it’s like reading a stranger’s words. Even so, I find myself telling people “I was deancasheadcanons” instead of “I ran a sideblog called deancasheadcanons” because it really was such a huge part of my identity. What’s wild is that every time I’ve tried to explain it to someone in real life, they just look at me like I’m not making any sense.

It was easy to stop watching Supernatural. I didn’t have cable, and I had been driving to my dad and stepmom’s house each week and watching it on their tv after they had gone to bed. I was in a new relationship with a woman I nearly married, I was back in school for a new career, I was working full time and absolutely did not have time to continue writing fanfic as prolifically as I had done for so many years. I finally reached a breaking point in 2017 and haven’t watched any new episodes since then (I don’t remember the last episode I saw). But now, as I rewatch some old episodes, it is easy to feel the way I felt the first time I watched the show. It’s easy to see why this campy little heartfelt show was a lifeline during my formative adult years.

So it turns out I have never reckoned with any of this, have never written it down, hence the 2k jumble of words you see here. And it’s like, I know that a lot of this may seem silly, trivial, especially for a show that in itself is not very serious, but as it comes to an end I have to reflect on it as a person who put so much of my heart, my creativity, my pain and my floundering identity into it. I am somewhat embarrassed and wish I could respond to this ask with a joke instead, but we’re in a pandemic and I live alone and have had way too much time to think and reflect and become a lot more self-aware, and part of that reflection has definitely been about my time in the spn fandom. I remember thinking the show was never going to end, yet here we are at the end and I felt compelled to type all this out with a desire to, I don’t know, get some closure? Convince myself that I was a whole person, that I wasn’t just a faceless URL posting destiel fics into the void, that my real life was not at all disparate from the time I spent online? In any case, I’ll always think fondly of the time I devoted to Supernatural, and I’ll take the good and the bad and everything in between. Thanks for the nice ask, anon, apparently I needed to get some things off my chest.

#madd replies #long post #spn for ts #this is 2k words i am sorry lmao #wouldn't it be cool if i had any semblance of chill

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youngbloodlisk · 4 years ago

Text

Worth It // Kim Sunwoo Model AU

Chapter 1

chapter genre: angst, fluff

(note: sunwoo does not appear in the series yet)

Emotionless, numb, and yet full of every feeling possible.

That's what packing up my stuff feels like.

That's what leaving what has been my home since age 15 feels like.

That's what being unsure of my future and career feels like.

I carefully place a designer shirt, a pink one from a shoot last year which they allowed me to keep, into the hanging clothing bag.

I zip up the bag and push it against the others.

Okay, that takes care of the clothes.

I turn away from the closet, looking around my room.

Photos litter the walls, some in frames, some stuck on with a piece of tape, and some held up with a thumbtack.

While I have a few of my magazine issues in the boxes by the door, previously displayed on my bookshelf, none of these photos are professional.

These are Polaroids, photo booths, and cell phone photos. The likes of those.

These don't document my career, they document my life. My friends, my adventures, my travels (although, those trips are credited to my job).

I feel as though I could cry again, but I've cried so much in the past week. I think I'm out of tears now.

"You want some help? That's a lot of photos to take with you." My best friend's voice comes from the doorway.

"I wanna leave them... I don't wanna have to take them anywhere. I don't wanna go anywhere."

Juyeon enters my room and wraps his arms around me from behind, going just slightly on his toes to rest his chin on my head.

"I know you don't. Neither do I. But it'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"Sure, I do. You'll find a new company faster than you can blink. Have you checked your business email? You may have some offers already. The news is already out that Imaginary Parties is bankrupt, I'm sure other agencies are itching to snag you up."

"That's a nice thought, Ju... But I wanna stay here. This very room. I've lived here for 6 years. I've worked with the same people for 6 years. It's not easy to leave it all."

Juyeon puts his feet flat on the ground and moves his head so it's resting against mine, his lips next to my ear.

"I know." He whispers sweetly.

We stay silent and frozen in our position, besides some swaying back and forth.

He knows all I need is comfort right now.

He always knows what I need, and what I don't need. That's why he's my best friend.

He joined Imaginary Parties Modeling Agency when I was 18 and he was 20. We immediately clicked.

He's been my best friend, my second half, for almost 3 years, and that's part of what scares me the most about Imaginary Parties coming to an end.

I'll probably barely, if ever, see Juyeon.

When I join another agency, and he joins another agency, and our schedules mix about as well as oil and water...

I may only see him on magazine covers and advertisements.

I don't know what I'll do without Lee Juyeon by my side.

"You'll be okay." It's only when he responds that I realize I had mumbled my last thought out loud. "We'll be okay. Who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same place?"

"Not likely."

"With as many shoots as we've done together, it's probably more likely than you think! Hey..." He lets go of me and turns me around to look into his deep, genuine, caring eyes. "Everything is gonna be okay. You have me here?" He points to my heart, and I roll my eyes at his cheesiness.

"Yes, Ju."

"And I have you here." He places his hand on his own heart. "No matter what happens, we have each other. Right?"

"Ju, what if-"

"Right?"

I feel a tear escape my eye, and Juyeon carefully wipes it away with his thumb.

"Right."

He pulls me into a tight hug.

I know he's trying to tell me he loves me.

-----------

Juyeon holds my hand and walks with me to my car.

We just finished packing our stuff into our cars, mine first and then his.

I can feel something start to bubble up in me again. Juyeon senses my mood change.

"You better text me when you get home. I'll do the same. And I keep telling you to check your email! We should compare our offers. Maybe someone reached out to both of us and we'll be back together in an agency a lot faster than you're thinking. And even if we aren't, you know I'm gonna text you constantly. I'll annoy you to death and you'll love it."

I can't help but chuckle.

"You always know what to say, don't you?"

"Only with you." He opens my car door for me before giving me one last hug.

"Have fun in Gwangju. Be safe traveling."

He's about to travel back to his family to visit while he works out a new agency, leaving me in Seoul without him for at least three weeks.

"I will. Again, text me when you get home! I need to know you made it safe."

"I know, I know. I will. I'll see you sometime, Ju."

"I'll see you as soon as possible." He kisses my forehead.

Again, I know that's another way he tells me he loves me without actually saying it.

He let's go of my hand and begins to walk away, heading toward his own car packed full of stuff.

I sigh and repress my tears before getting in my car and driving away from Imaginary Parties for the last time, never to return.

-----------

My phone wakes me up in the middle of the night. I blink my eyes to try to focus on the name on my screen

Lee Juyeon

"Waking me up? He better be alone and stuck in a ditch..."

I swipe across the screen and press the speaker button, far too tired to hold a phone up to my ear right now.

"Ju, it's 3am. Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that! You never text me or called me that you got home safe! At first, I assumed it was just because of service, but nothing ever came through! You did make it home okay, right?"

His extreme concern is both annoying and endearing.

"Yes, Ju. I'm home, in my room, in my bed, previously asleep. And you made it okay?" I rub my face, trying to actually listen and comprehend his answer.

"Yeah, I just got here. Travel wasn't as fast and smooth as anticipated, but I made it."

"That's great. I miss you already, Ju. Can I please sleep now and tell you more about how much I miss you tomorrow?"

"You better. Don't forget this time!" The phone beeps, telling me that he did me the favor of hanging up.

I don't even bother to put my phone back on the nightstand. My hand goes limp as I rapidly fall into sleep and the phone slips out of my grip, without me noticing or caring.

-----------

"What did I tell you? I told you! I told you like... at least twenty times. I knew it! I-"

"Ok, ok, Juyeon, I get it. You were right."

"Can you say that again and let me turn on my laptop screen record this time?"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you gonna accept it?"

"Are you?"

"If you are."

"Well, I'm only going to accept if Juyeon accepts."

"I accept!"

"Then... so do I..."

It begins to set in.

The same agency reached out to both me and Juyeon, Worth It Modeling.

Home to some of the biggest models in the business, and they want us.

Both of us.

We're gonna work together again.

We're gonna live together again.

"Can you believe that we're gonna work with the likes of Ju Haknyeon and Ji Changmin? And Lee Sangyeon? And Choi Chanhee!" Juyeon starts to fanboy over his favorite models.

When I say favorites, I mean he collects all their issues. And displays them better than he displays his own.

"Aw, little Juyeon finally gets to show off his shrine!"

"It is NOT a shrine! And I'll probably keep them in the closet if I'm working with these guys... it's a little weird to have my own co-workers' magazines on stands on a bookshelf..."

I laugh with him, feeling my worries and sadness begin to lift off my shoulders.

Sure, I'm gonna miss Imaginary Parties a lot, but at least I get to work with Juyeon. Not to mention, I'll also be working with some of the best models in Korea being at Worth It.

Maybe everything will be okay.

-----------

"What about the bookshelf stuff?" I pick up a heavy box and drop it carefully onto the bed.

Juyeon purses his lips and opens the box to look at exactly what's inside.

"It can probably all go up on the new bookshelf. But leave the magazine stands in the box, just store the magazines like normal."

I chuckle slightly, remembering the reason he wants me to exclude the stands from the new bookshelf set-up.

Juyeon goes back to organizing his clothes into his closet, and I grab a stack of books from the box to start on the bookshelf.

As I'm sliding books onto the shelf side-by-side, I hear someone enter the room and immediately Juyeon drops something on his foot and cries out in pain.

My attention is drawn to him, but it appears he's okay. Once I see who had walked into the room, I'm no longer confused by the sudden clumsiness.

I have to keep myself from laughing as Juyeon tries to avoid staring at Choi Chanhee, who is going through the other closet to find a jacket.

The irony is anything but lost on me that Juyeon happens to be roomies with his favorite model.

The moment Chanhee leaves the room, Juyeon looks at me with the most shocked expression I've seen on his face in my entire life.

"That's gotta be a joke."

"Good luck, Ju. You're gonna need it."

"Trade with me."

"You realize the name next to my name on my door belongs to a girl?"

"You realize I don't care?"

"No, Juyeon. You just need to learn to not cry every time you see his face."

"I never cry!" Juyeon protests my accusations, knowing I'm right.

"Last year's December issue of NewShot said otherwise."

He rolls his eyes.

"Whatever..."

We both get back to work, when suddenly the silence is broken after about five minutes.

"They put him in a long skirt with red eyeshadow and they painted his nails green, what was I supposed to do? Not cry?"

#ciiikbwork #tbz au #the boyz au #the boyz angst #tbz angst #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #sunwoo au #sunwoo angst #sunwoo fluff

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

Text

you know the drill. have some fluffy riconti <3

ship: felix x ace warnings: mentioned (past) sexual content word count: 2430

[previous] [next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 3)

When Felix wakes up, he immediately notices something is off.

There's a brief moment of panic when he realizes he's not in his own bed, the layout of the strange room different than what he’s used to. To make matters worse, someone stirs next to him in the bed, and Felix—

Has his hand on the man's bicep and has apparently slept curled up next to him.

Ace is still asleep, sprawled out on his back on the hotel bed, snoring softly without a care in the world.

Felix recalls last night. There was the fire alarm, and they'd talked while sharing a blanket for warmth. Then, he'd invited Ace up, they'd kissed, Ace had agreed to stay the night…

… And things had escalated to the point where Felix had come in his pants like a teenager.

Felix buries his face in his pillow in embarrassment and silently wishes the earth would swallow him whole. Nothing about this situation is like him at all; usually, he’s careful to a fault, and having a one-night-stand with a man he just met has been something reserved only for fantasies.

But Ace hadn’t seemed to mind. On the contrary, he’d been understanding and even encouraging, not running for the hills despite Felix’s numerous fuck-ups.

Felix peeks up from the pillow and looks at Ace. Something flutters in his gut upon taking in his bedmate's relaxed features while he sleeps. And then something different stirs in his groin when he realizes Ace is shirtless, a lean arm stretched behind his pillow, the duvet only covering half of his hairy chest.

It's embarrassing how much the proximity of a very male body next to Felix is enough to wake his libido, years' worth of repressed sexuality now hitting him full force. He barely resists the urge to reach out and touch the grey curls, not wanting to wake Ace, since they don't have anywhere to be—

Shit!

Felix bolts up to sit on the bed and frantically glances around the room for a clock, acutely reminded that he's here for business and not a gay escapade.

“Oof!” Ace protests and flinches awake when Felix accidentally knees him in the ribs.

“Sorry,” Felix apologizes half-heartedly, finally spotting the alarm clock on the nightstand next to Ace.

Seeing the numbers 8:40, Felix immediately sighs in relief and slumps back down on the bed. He still has plenty of time before his business appointment.

“Sleep well?” Ace's asks, voice groggy with sleep while he blinks awake.

“Yes,” Felix says. “Uhm… and you?” he asks awkwardly, immediately feeling much more self-conscious now that Ace is awake.

“Like a baby,” Ace flashes Felix a grin but doesn't meet his eyes.

Ace proceeds to sit up, before yawning long and loud, stretching his arms above his head.

And Felix stares like an absolute creep at the way Ace's shoulder muscles move with the action. He wants to run his hands all over them, thanking his luck that they still have time for a lazy morning under the covers.

“Well, I should probably get out of your hair,” Ace says, shattering Felix's daydream. “Leave you to prepare for your important meeting.”

Ace pulls the covers away from himself and turns to get out of bed, and Felix wants to protest—

“No,” Felix finds himself saying out loud, Ace's head immediately whipping around to look at him in surprise.

“I, ehm,” Felix starts, clearing his throat self-consciously. “I have time. If you do too,” he manages lamely.

A smile slowly spreads over Ace's face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and a familiar warmth sparkle within them.

“It's kinda chilly, huh?” Ace grins, leaving Felix confused.

“Not particularly—” he starts, feeling almost too warm under the thick duvet.

“We should cuddle for warmth,” Ace interrupts before eagerly slipping back between the covers, making realization dawn on Felix.

“You're right,” he says, playing along while trying not to smile like an idiot as Ace scoots closer. “I'm very cold.”

“Well, can't have that, now can we?” Ace smiles, lifting the covers and extending his arm, and Felix gratefully take the opportunity to cuddle up to him.

Sighing blissfully as Ace's arms wrap around him, Felix buries his face in the crook between Ace's neck and shoulder.

Making good of his earlier thought, Felix brings one of his hands up from Ace’s back to smooth over the man’s shoulders. Ace hums in approval and starts petting Felix's hair, and Felix never realized just how nice it is to be held. His few girlfriends were always much more petite than him, and even though Ace is shorter and smaller than him, he's broader and bigger than a woman and Felix feels safe in his arms.

Felix's other hand, on its own accord, comes up to rest on Ace's chest, and it's only when the man huffs in amusement that Felix realizes he's been playing with his chest hair again.

And it suddenly hits him just how weird it is that he's happily cuddling the man he only met technically today without technically even having sex with him.

“This probably isn't how a normal hook-up goes, huh?” Felix realizes, hesitantly stilling the movement of his hand.

“Not really,” Ace chuckles, the sound reverberating in his chest under Felix's hand. “But normal’s boring anyway, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Felix murmurs with a smile, doubts successfully reassured. On impulse, he places a soft peck on Ace's neck.

When the other shivers and gasps, Felix pulls back to look at him, startled by the reaction.

“Uh, neck's kinda sensitive,” Ace offers with a sheepish grin.

Well. It sure would be a shame if someone used that information for their advantage later tonight.

“I don't know whether to be turned on or scared,” Ace jokes, seeing the mischievous smile on Felix's face.

“Later,” Felix says, leaning in for a kiss that Ace dodges, Felix's lips landing on Ace's stubbled cheek.

“I promise you don't wanna taste my mouth right now” Ace explains. “It's a distinct combination of booze and death.”

Felix would like to pretend like he's not grossed out by morning breath, but then remembers he didn’t even offer to lend Ace a hotel toothbrush last night.

“Fair enough,” Felix says, settling for kissing Ace's bearded jaw instead.

The prickling under his lips is pleasant and, again, so distinctly masculine. Felix can't help nuzzling into Ace's jawline, his own morning stubble rasping against the trimmed beard.

“Having fun?” Ace teases, returning the gesture, scraping his beard over Felix's stubbled cheek.

“Sorry,” Felix chuckles. “It's just different. In a good way.”

“I'm not judging,” Ace grins. “If you wanna bump your head into me and knead my chest hair like a cat, go right ahead.”

“I'm… a little obsessed, sorry,” Felix says, a hand running through said chest hair once again.

“Baby, a guy with your face? You can do whatever you want with me," Ace purrs suggestively, and Felix feels heat rising up his neck.

“Do you really think I look good?” Felix asks, almost regretting it once he realizes just how insecure he sounds.

Sure, his ex-girlfriends complimented him every now and then, but that's what couples do, right? The kids back in his school years sure didn't make it a secret how "weird" and "boring" they thought Felix was.

“Don't tell me no one ever told you how pretty you are,” Ace grins. At Felix's confused frown, Ace's smile falters. “Fuck me, no one ever told you how pretty you are.”

“People don't generally tend to compliment strangers,” Felix points out.

“They should if the stranger looks like you!” Ace exclaims, now sounding almost offended on his behalf. “Okay, babe, listen. This is important,” Ace says, grabbing Felix by the shoulder and looking straight into his eyes.

“You're gorgeous,” Ace says. “And, yeah, I don’t really tend to be stingy with compliments, but you're easily in the top five of most attractive people I've ever seen in my life.”

“You said this was important,” Felix says with a small smile, trying not to flush from the praise.

“It is!” Ace insists. “You need to know that you're a ten and you can't spend your life picking up fives and sixes.”

Felix frowns, not really seeing where Ace is going with this.

“I mean obviously I'm not referring to myself—” Ace hurries to add. “But if you ever start getting more involved in the hookup scene, you need to set the bar high. Because trust me, you're not gonna run out of options.”

Felix barely resists the urge to tell Ace that he can't see himself sleeping with men that aren't him, but manages to just nod instead so he doesn’t sound too clingy.

He's still flustered that Ace finds him this attractive and isn't afraid of saying so. Maybe it's a cultural thing, the Argentine much more free with his compliments than is customary in Germany.

“So, now that we've established how hot you are…” Ace starts, sensing Felix's awkwardness about being in the spotlight like this. “You probably didn't have the time to check out the breakfast buffet, huh?”

“No, I only got here last night,” Felix says.

At the mention of food, Felix suddenly notices a pang in his belly, signaling an empty stomach. Having only had a couple of pathetic airplane meals for the past 24 hours, breakfast is sounding pretty tempting right about now.

“Well, need some help with that?” Ace suggests.

“Help?” Felix asks, confused.

“You know,” Ace gestures lazily with his hand. “Get all the insider information. Which cereal to pick. Whether apple or orange juice is better. Important stuff.”

Hearing the strange suggestion, something clicks in Felix's head.

“Are you asking if I want to have breakfast together?” Felix asks.

“Is it working?” Ace grins.

“Somehow, yes,” Felix says, and Ace’s smile widens even further.

“I hate to say it, but we should probably get out of bed in that case,” Ace says, sitting up on the bed and taking the cozy warmth of his body away. “I'll swing by my room to freshen up. See you downstairs in half an hour?” he offers over his shoulder, starting to dress himself.

“Sounds good,” Felix agrees, hurrying to get out of bed so he'll have time to make himself look presentable.

Making for the bathroom to brush his teeth, he walks past his phone on the desk, suddenly remembering something crucial.

“Oh,” Felix says, making a nearly-dressed Ace perk up and look at him. “Can I please have your number, just in case? I don't want to lose you again.”

“Aww, babe,” Ace smirks. “The three seconds we were separated by the elevator were hard on me too.”

“You know what I mean,” Felix mutters, shooting Ace a half-hearted glare.

“I do, I do,” Ace defuses with a smile, walking up to Felix with a partially buttoned shirt and extending his hand. “Here, I’ll type it for you.”

As Felix hands over his phone and watches Ace add his number, his gaze inadvertently drifts down to the man's exposed chest. The crumpled, pastel pink shirt combined with the generous neckline exposing a hairy chest should look nothing short of ridiculous and trashy.

Instead, Felix forces his eyes away before his sweatpants start tenting suspiciously. What the hell is wrong with him?

“There!” Ace finally finishes his task and hands Felix back his phone. “Call me?” Ace suggests and—thankfully—proceeds to button his shirt most of the way up.

Felix glances at the number, smiling as he sees "Ace ♠️" as the contact name.

“Cute,” Felix comments when he presses the call button.

“Not as cute as you,” Ace winks, grabbing his own phone that lights up on the nightstand. “Thanks babe, I got it.”

“Do I even want to know what you're saving me as?” Felix mutters, intrigued.

“Oops, would you look at that, gotta run!” Ace grins, avoiding the question and making for the door. “See you in thirty, handsome!”

“Be safe,” Felix reflexively calls after him, and Ace turns and raises an eyebrow, making Felix choke on his own embarrassment. “I mean… yes. See you soon.”

Like he should have said in the first place. You know, like a normal person.

Instead of making fun of him, Ace just smiles in a kind of derpy way.

“Can you stop being so adorable?” Ace teases, but then he's out of the door before Felix can even begin to think of a reply.

Left to his own devices, Felix realizes he only has thirty minutes to shower, shave and get ready for what is essentially his first date with a man.

He hurries to the bathroom and turns on the shower, a flash of shame shooting through him as he spots his previously soiled boxers still drying on the towel rack.

Still, he manages to shower, shave, blow dry his hair and brush his teeth with ten minutes to spare.

But then he runs into his next crisis; what the hell does he wear?

Felix ends up laying all of his outfits on the bed, and yes, five entire outfits might have been excessive for a three-day-trip, but it sure comes in handy now.

Does he wear his work clothes? It might be overdressing for the occasion. He can't wear the leather jacket, since they’re only going to be indoors. Can he go with the t-shirt and vest? Will Ace think he's a slob?

Suddenly recalling Ace has only seen him in his pajamas, Felix realizes anything he chooses to wear is probably a vast improvement.

And then he also realizes he only has three minutes left, having wasted most of his time overthinking his outfit choice.

No small amount of cursing later, Felix manages to dress himself in the casual outfit, only fretting momentarily over whether the jeans are too casual or not. Since he has no time left to gel his hair into place, he haphazardously brushes his bangs over to one side and hopes that it’s good enough.

Barely remembering his keycard, Felix is out of the door with only one minute to spare, power-walking to the elevator.

He pushes the call button, and then pushes it again… and again, when the elevator isn't fucking arriving. He glances at his watch, remembers he didn't remember to put on a watch, sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. But at least the elevator is finally here—

“Fancy seeing you here,” Ace quips as soon as the doors slide open.

#riconti #ace visconti #felix richter #dweetwrites #dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #felix x ace

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