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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years ago

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(Clone Wars- The Bad Batch) That Time of the Month

(Author’s note: So I’ve had this sitting in my incomplete folder for some time.

I hate to play into the whole stereotype about females around this time of the month because I understand that every woman is different, but this is my experience. Every month, with the exception of a few times, I find myself getting easily irritated and feeling extra sensitive, whether it be to people’s comments or jokes. And every month I get so confused and cry into my hands like, “what’s wrong with me? I’m never like this!” And then it finally occurs to me to take a look at the calendar, and then I’m like, “oh...well that explains it.”

Not saying that it justifies crappy behavior, but like...it sucks to feel this way. And even though those feelings are very real, I always apologize to my friends and fam if I was an impatient wench to them in the moment.

Warning, mentions of periods).

Feeling the irritation flare up into anger, you stood up abruptly and left the room in flash. As the door slid shut behind you, the four males were left rather confused. Hunter looked to Tech for an answer, but he only gave a shrug. Wrecker frowned, and Crosshair sat in silence to analyze the interaction that just occurred.

Wrecker took the liberty of finally breaking the silence. “What? Was it something we said?”

“I’m not sure,” Tech replied.

Hunter tipped his head to the side, eyeing the floor as he thought. “Something’s been off about her this week. Something in her scent, and even her eyes and voice. It’s subtle, but the change is definitely there.”

“Hm,” Tech hummed, typing rapidly on his holopad. “Changes in mood, voice…”

“What are you doing?” Crosshair’s gaze flickered to the device.

“I have a theory.” Then, Tech nodded at the search result displayed on his holopad, humming again. “There’s a possibility that __________ is experiencing PMS.”

“What’s that?” Wrecker asked, leaning in.

Tech adjusted his goggles. “Do you recall the reproduction unit in our Biology course on Kamino? The part about females and the cycle they go through-?”

“Yes, I think we all remember that,” Hunter interjected with a grimace. “Is that what’s going on?”

He continued swiping through articles on the holopad, the light reflecting off his goggles as words sped by. “Possibly, but I don’t want to assume. According to the holonet, females may take it the wrong way if you ask them directly.”

“Well, we don’t want to make it worse,” Crosshair muttered.

“But shouldn’t we make sure she’s okay?” Wrecker looked at Hunter with wide eyes. “I mean, that stuff is scary.”

“It’s nature,” Tech corrected. He put the holopad away. “It’s quite fascinating too, how the female body has such an elaborate system.”

Hunter stood up with resolve. “I’m going to see how she is.”

“Shouldn’t we just let her come talk to us when she’s ready?” Crosshair protested with the roll of his eyes. In his mind, he figured you might rather not be bothered since you had walked out of the ship’s dining area.

“But what if she thinks we don’t care?” Wrecker asked.

“Alright, alright,” Hunter sighed. “I’m going to just knock on the door and take it from there. If she wants to be left alone, she’ll tell me.” He was more inclined to check on you since his ears picked up a sound on the other side of the ship where your quarters were. It sounded like crying- muffled crying. He headed for the hallway, releasing another sigh when he heard his teammates following. Even Crosshair seemed curious to know what would become of his attempt to speak to you. Hunter reached your door, and the sounds were clearly what he thought.

Inside, you were sitting on the bed, face buried in your hands, and letting the tears fall. You didn’t let out a sob out of fear that Hunter would hear from wherever he was, and you knew your fears were confirmed when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you said, voice shaking. The door slid open, and Hunter walked in, pausing a few feet away. Before he could say a word, you looked at him with eyes red and tears glistening on your cheeks. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. It’s just, I don’t feel the greatest right now, and with you guys picking on me...”

“It’s alright,” Hunter assured you, holding his hands up.

“Is she crying?” you heard Wrecker’s voice fail to whisper outside the door. “I thought she was mad, not sad.”

You laughed, wiping the tears as Tech responded loudly. “It’s hormone surges. Sometimes it causes swift mood changes.”

Hunter gave the door a swift bang with his fist, growling, “you know, we can hear you!” He rolled his eyes when it grew silent on the other side and approached, taking a seat at the edge of your bunk. “Look, I’m...sorry. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, I know you guys tease me because I’m part of the team. Usually, I don’t mind.”

“I know,” he nodded. “I heard that it might be a...sensitive time for you.”

“Yeah, it is.” You sniffled. “Sorry if that freaks you out.”

“Not at all. We’ve seen some dire situations together,” he chuckled. “I just want you to be alright.”

“Thank you.” You wiped more tears, and he gently rested a hand on your back. Touch from the Sergeant was rare because of his abilities, but it was welcome. It also magnified your guilt for getting upset earlier, though. “I’m really sorry.”

“For the last time, it’s okay,” he said with a light chuckle. “Do you need anything?”

“I kind of stormed out of the kitchen area before I could get any lunch,” you mumbled. “And I’m still hungry.”

“Lunch it is, then.” He patted your back. “Anything in particular?”

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll make it.” You shifted, but Hunter firmly planted his palm on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“Don’t you worry about it. Just go ahead and rest for a few.”

“O-okay.”

He stood up and headed out the door. You heard hushed voices as he informed the others of the situation, and then you saw Wrecker poke his head in.

“Hey _________, I’m going to make you my famous double-decker sandwich for lunch!”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Thank you, that’s so nice.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I was going to make one for myself too,” he said. “Then maybe we can watch a holomovie! Crosshair and Tech are picking one out right now, actually.”

“Oh, you guys,” you shook your head. “You’re too nice.”

“Anything for our _________!”

#clone wars imagine #clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars the bad batch #clone wars bad batch #clone wars hunter #clone wars wrecker #clone wars crosshair #clone wars tech #bad batch imagine #the bad batch x reader #bad batch period

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago

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PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— I’VE SEEN FIRE, I’VE SEEN RAIN ; PART 2 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1909

SUMMARY: Being laid off isn’t very fun but Bruce tends to find himself even more entangled in your life, including his alter ego—Batman.

A/N: I’m loving this series and if you are, feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading my crappy stuff aka my daydreams <3

WARNINGS: Guns! Death threats! Crying! A mental breakdown!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

James Taylor’s Fire and Rain plays like a funeral hymn on the record player, echoing through your studio apartment. You’re sitting on the ground, back against the ratty couch with a pizza box on your lap. You take a bite of a BBQ Chicken pizza slice, furiously wiping your tears away as you replayed the events from six hours ago. From being called to the principal's office to only be told that you’re one of the non-tenured teachers to be laid off due to cutbacks. Gotham High was...a tough school. The students were mean to you because well, you're young and always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, you taught English Literature and frankly, your students didn’t exactly enjoy the subject as much as you wanted them to. Nevertheless, you’re devastated. Teaching was a dream of yours, and it’s being taken away from you. You cried all the way back home, tried to call your mother but it kept going to voicemail. You must have called someone else, but you don’t remember and couldn’t care less to check your phone—the whole day went by like a blur.

Then, there’s a sound. An insistent buzz, it’s the doorbell. You furrow your brows, not recalling ordering anything else other than the large pizza from Domino’s. Yet, it doesn’t cease, and you’re forced to bring yourself to stand on your feet, instinctively flattening your tousled hair to make yourself seem somewhat presentable. Like, you’re doing fine and you have everything completely under control. Maybe, you did call your mother, and she’s at the door. You’re hoping she is although she’s going to kill you for the mess.

Another buzz and you’re toddling across the wooden flooring and towards the doorway. It’s starting to become infuriating by the second, like a house fly don’t won’t stop bugging you. Considering the mood you’re in, it doesn’t take much to tick you off. Swinging the door open, you expected to see the radiant face of your mother but to your surprise, it’s not.

It’s Bruce.

Shit.

You haven’t seen him in two weeks.

You nearly choke at the sight of him in a slightly crumpled oxford blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair as much of a mess as yours and tired eyes staring down at you with concern. You note how Bruce is very charming, no matter how disarrayed he is. Meanwhile, you’re realizing the current state must be a little startling. Your eyes are probably bloodshot, hair still in a tangled mess and glaring tomato stains everywhere on your GCU t-shirt. This is such a low point for you.

“Bruce,” you say, voice raising an octave with wide eyes as you stare at him like he’s grown another head, “What are you doing here?” His frown is immediate, seemingly confused by your question. “You called me.” He gestures to his phone within his grasp. “It sounded bad even though I couldn’t make out what you were saying half of the time,” He chuckles and holds up a familiar looking paper bag “So, I got you bagels. Three of them. Thought you could use some of these.”

It takes a second or two for you to finally process what he just told you before your emotionally wrecked brain decides to do the most irrational thing ever—You just start sobbing. You’re crying so hard that it terrifies Bruce. He blinks, thoughts racing. The sight of you in complete misery strikes him like a punch to his gut and for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do. Not immediately. Yet, through glassy eyes, you manage to notice the way his face dropped and morphed into pure horror. Justification is key, you don’t want to weird him out and think you’re crazy. You wave your hand in the air dismissively, rubbing your eyes as you spoke between strangled sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day and that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me all week.”

Oh.

Your words are a tug to the heartstrings, and it sends his head reeling but relief was all that overwhelmed him. Bruce would never wish to see you hurt, especially when it’s caused by him. Actions of affection were primarily reserved for those closest to him, but he never experienced the urge to be intimate and care so much for a person ever since his parents died. Yet, out of everyone, you’re the one that brings out the most in him. Moving closer to you, he reaches and pulls you in a hesitant embrace. You stiffened at the mere touch of his arms around you, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Sure, you had a fair share of intimate moments with the man but this, this was different. You couldn’t shake the thought of how something so warm felt so right, smelt right. Despite the fact you had been trying to suppress your feelings for Bruce, and this was doing the exact opposite of that, you can’t help but feel this was what you needed at the moment. So, you let your body sag, muscles becoming loose and you let yourself truly cry for the first time.

You end up inviting him in later, when your tears are dry. You eat two of the bagels, sharing the last one with him. You called a peace offering, a gift of appreciation, for the whole emotional massacre you unexpectedly shoved at him. He simply laughs, eyes crinkling with fondness. He thinks you’re beautiful, especially when your hair is wild, laughing like you don’t have a care in the world. It’s what keeps him grounded, to know you’re raw and very real. The next thing you know, you end up shuffling cards of UNO until the wee hours of the morning—exchanging knowing smiles and Bruce trying to pick a Wild Draw card from the deck to get you to lose. But, he lets you win anyway.

He slept on your couch that night, still in his dress shirt. You must've peeked a glance at his sleeping form, squeezed onto the couch that’s clearly too small for him. Cute. You snap a picture before heading to bed. For blackmail purposes, of course.

You end up working a night shift at a burger joint called Big Belly Burger somewhere in midtown. Your first week comes and goes, and you’re starting to hate how your uniform itches and how the restaurant can get really filthy by the end of the day. Yet, it’s the kids from Cameron Kane High that come after school that keeps you going because it makes you miss being a teacher even though they tend to leave a mess after a meal.

Thursday comes and you’re exhausted. Even so, you’re thankful it’s a slow night. You’ve done all your cleaning duties earlier on and Lucie, the manager went out to buy a pack of cigarettes from the convenience store around the corner. Hence, it’s just you, slumped against the counter, devouring a Triple Belly Burger.

You’re half way through the burger when you hear the door swing open. Expecting to see Lucie, you turned around to see two men brandishing handguns your way. “Everything from the register, now!” The taller masked man shouted, gun gesturing to the cash register. Your eyes are wide, and you can feel your chest heaving. There was no way you’ll be able to fight them. Not two of them with guns pointed at you.

The burger drops from your hand and so does your heart. With trembling hands, you slide the drawer of the cash register open and begin pulling out dollar notes. From the corner of your eye, you spot your phone on the counter, close enough for you to make an emergency call. Your eyes scan the two men wearily and with every ounce of courage you had left, you managed to unlock your phone, pulled up the messaging app and texted the first name on the list: Bruce Wayne.

help, was all you managed to say.

To say your luck ran out was an understatement; you were never lucky anyway. One of the robbers must have caught on to what you were doing and just as the call goes through, he snatches your phone away, throws it onto the ground and shoots it.

So close, yet so far.

You don't know if the message got through.

The muzzle is now inches away from your forehead, and you hear the cock of the gun. “Don’t you dare pull somethin’ funny like or I’ll blow your brains out. Give us the money, now.” It was in that moment, your tears give way and your life flashes before your eyes. You pray for a miracle, a savior.

Then, you see him.

A looming figure appears by the doorway and your breath hitches. It’s Batman, looking like a Goddamn angel. The robbers seem to realize this too, guns quickly directed towards the vigilante. He launches batarangs to the pair of men and immediately disarms them. In a flash, he knocks them out, unconscious bodies dropping to the ground like dead flies.

You stare at him in awe although he’s very frightening and intimidating but Batman...just saved you. Now, this is a story you’re going to be telling everybody until the day you die. He approaches you with caution, and you instinctively take a step back. Then, he calls you by your name like it’s second nature. You stare at him with blank amazement, brows raised.

“You know my name?” Your voice dwindled; It’s so soft and timid you hardly hear yourself. Despite the mask, the vigilante looks like his brain just short-circuited for a moment. He clears his throat.

“...Bruce has mentioned you.”

You ignore how his synthetic voice makes every hair on the back of your neck stand and the familiarity that struck for a split second when he said your name because you’re too wrapped up with the fact that Bruce has discussed about you to his other ‘best friend’ as one might call it. Brooding over this lump of a thought, the corner of your mouth twitches. “He did?” you say with a hint of affection. It’s hard to read the man under the mask, whoever he was but you’re certain he looked taken aback by your response. Maybe, it was the way you delivered it—the longing in the very core of the expression. You may have outed your feelings for Bruce to...Batman.

This doesn’t get any stranger than that.

“Yes,” he replies curtly, and you hear the police sirens afar. “Are you hurt?” Like the true caretaker of Gotham, he wants to be sure you haven’t been injured. You shake your head, lips pressed together. The whaling of the police sirens grow louder, lights of red and blue flashing before your eyes. He appears like a shadow against the glaring lights from the police cruisers and before you can blink, he flees with a muttered ‘Goodnight’ and disappears before the police come flooding in and does Lucie. The poor woman looked at with frantic eyes as soon as she glimpsed the two men on the ground, groaning in pain.

The glint of the batarang on the floor captures your attention, you smile at this.

You may or may not have taken it back to your apartment that currently sits proudly on the bookshelf in your living room.

You’re so telling Bruce.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #justice league

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machinegunbun · 4 years ago

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Did we ever get the freaky colson fic? Asking for a friend

Yenno what? I’ve been practically starving yall so i think you earned it. Ask (for a friend) and you shall receive. Buckle up kiddos, this ones a doozy.

TW?: Like? everything. everything is a problem here lmao. Just weird. H/A stands for haunted attraction, i had one in mind but it felt disrespectful to mention.

I present to you... The Freaky Fic ™

~*~*~

You knew this interviewer had a history of asking personal questions, which meant when you came on you were completely expecting to be asked something or other in regards to you and Colsons sex life, but asking about the freakiest sex you’ve ever had still felt a little forward. You weren’t thirty minutes into what would be an hour-and-forty-three-minute podcast and he was already pulling out what you originally thought to the big guns. Your eyes met Colsons as you silently tried to decide whether or not you should avoid the question.

“I already know what it would be, I'm just not sure we should say.”

“It’s that bad?” The interviewer asks

“Well, it’s more that everyone is gonna say its white people shit. Cause it is.” You took a moment to think about the statement “It wasn’t incest though! Obviously. Just a little weird.”

“What was it?” Colson asked, mind reeling through your personal kama sutra for anything that would stand out as the freakiest. Colson and you were definitely not vanilla, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? When you’ve done so much weird stuff, it’s hard to rank which would be the weirdest.

“The [H/a].” You say, watching as a flash of recognition falls over his face

“Seriously? That’s the worst thing you could think of? Cause I can think of, like, five worse than that, just off the top of my head.”

“I mean, it’s definitely not the freakiest, but it’s a good story without it being super embarrassing or personal.” Colson nods in agreement, mumbling a small “Right”

“Yeah, go ahead. You can tell it.” He says, turning to face you in his spinny chair.

“Okay, so, I’m very superstitious and, like, paranoid right? I mean, I literally will not sleep in a room that has a mirror facing me. It doesn’t even have to be facing me, it could be facing the wall opposite me, but it has to be covered. I don’t even really trust it when it’s covered, honestly, I prefer it to be face down to the floor. Because mirrors are supposed to be portals to the after life, or whatever, and I remember hearing that if one is facing you while you sleep it’s easier for ghosts to manipulate you. It’s not that I necessarily believe that, or that I think if I slept with a mirror facing me that I’d die or something, but that I respect it. However, I think when places are advertised as haunted they usually aren’t. I mean you see these youtubers go to these places and film all these videos and it’s just- That’s not how hauntings usually are. Ghosts have an ability, to an extent, to manipulate your emotion. Have you ever heard of someone suddenly being overwhelmed by an emotion because they believe a loved one is near? It’s more like that, it’s very spiritual. Being haunted, coming from someone who ghosts seem to love, is nine times out of ten nothing like what Hollywood portrays it to be. It’s not to say that I think every one of these youtubers is lying, I think some of them definitely are, or that they were scared and when you’re scared it’s easy to blow little noises out of the water, but mostly I think it has to do with the places themself.”

Your story was cut off by the interviewer asking a question,

“Hold on, you aren’t about to make a joke about freaky also meaning spooky, right?” The interviewer asks

“I mean, you could totally make that joke, but it’s definitely a little kinky. I’m just giving some background.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes. I think when you go somewhere that is advertised as haunted they are selling you an experience. If you went to the [H/a] and nothing happened, some people would be disappointed by that and would want their money back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I think some of these places have audio recordings and mechanised doors, things that they can use to manipulate every room and give you a good scare. This is all theory, by the way, so don’t sue us.”

“You really think it's more plausible that they have a whole control room to scare people and that none of the workers have ever squealed than believe that these places are just… haunted?” The interviewer asked

“I don’t know. Maybe, if they only allowed people with a certain seniority and made them sign an NDA? And if the ones who control it get to give their coworkers a little scare so they come online and say they’ve had their own experiences? Yeah, I think it makes sense, and it's making them money, so why would they stop?”

“Okay, I guess.” He nodded along, entertaining the idea

“But, I also believe that if you talk to ghosts or call on them they will show up, so it’s kinda” you made a scale motion with your hands before continuing.

“Anyway, I went on board with this in mind. We were in our room, cuddled up on the bed and-” you took a moment to recall that night “I don’t remember if we were waiting for something to happen, or if it already had and we were waiting for something else. Anyway, we must’ve gotten bored, because we started making out.”

The crappy old hotel sheets shifted under you as your lips met Colsons, his warm hand reaching over to rest on your lower back. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouths smashing into one another, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip while his hand pulled you closer, your own reaching down to rub his growing bulge.

A short, fast knock came from the wall, breaking both the kiss and the silence.

“Oh, do you like that?” You ask, continuing to massage him through his loose sweatpants. Colson originally thought you had been referring to him, but quickly caught onto the fact that you were addressing the ‘ghost’.

“Hm, what about this?” You continued, kissing your way down his body, pulling his pants down when you got to them and sliding his tip between your lips. A barely audible creak erupted from the room beside you, the bathroom sink had turned on, a small stream of water pouring aimlessly down into the sink.

“Does that make you wet?” You ask, sucking one of his balls into your mouth as you stroke him. Colson found the whole act to be a bit odd, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so he let you continue. As fucked up as it was, the idea of a third party watching as the two of you were doing your thing was really getting you going. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to some, other than the fact that the supposed third party was a ghost.

“Do you like watching us fuck?” You slid your mouth down the length of his prick, hollowing out your cheeks before coming back up to continue “Tell me what you want me to do to him next.” You offer up, glancing up at Colson who looked equal parts freaked out and turned on.

“You’re crazy. God that’s hot.” He said, throwing his head back while you let out a small laugh. A book slides from the coffee table across the room, falling to the floor and landing on its spine, flipping open to a random page. You weren’t entirely sure what that implied, but the only thing that came to mind was him fucking you on that table. You took a moment to ponder it before deciding if you tried it would break and that you didn’t wanna bother paying the place for a new one.

You began kissing your way back up his body instead, admiring his tattoos as you go. Your lips landed back on his, reaching down to slide the tip of his prick through your folds, gathering your arousal. Stopping the kiss for a moment, you opened your mouth to take a breath. Colson took this opportunity to spit in your mouth, connecting your lips again soon after.

“Think the ghost liked that?” He said, reaching down to grab his hard dick from your hand, teasing your hole. You shrugged, leaning back into the kiss, moving your hips along with his movements.

After a minute or two of teasing, you swore you felt the bed begin to shake. It started off slow and small, almost as if Colson was shaking under you and it was transferring to the bed, before slowly building to a much more noticeable rumble.

“Oh, I think it wants us to shake the bed.” You say, a smirk playing on your lips, a gasp falling past them as you felt colson slip inside you. You happily obliged, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You didn’t realise how badly you needed this, you couldn’t help the moans slipping past your lips as you fucked each other as hard as you could manage, trying your best to make sure the bed shook. You were looking down at Colson when suddenly his face disappeared, replaced by impenetrable darkness.

“What the fuck.” The interviewer mentioned, more amused than judgemental “I can't believe you’re telling me this. I can’t believe this isn’t the freakiest shit you’ve ever done.”

“Well, the ghost thing was kind of a joke. I mean, it happened, but it was more about the fact that someone was obviously watching us, or the concept of that.”

“Right, right. You guys like an audience, I see.”

“While it was dark though, I swear I felt a hand slide up the side of my thigh, I know it wasn’t Colsons cause I could-” You cut yourself off “I’m not gonna say how, but I felt both of his hands on me.”

“Oh shit, forreal? You never told me that part.” Colson said, you gave a small nod in his direction before continuing.

“But then the lights came back on.”

The lights had only been off for about a minute, small sounds of things moving barely audible over the sounds you two had been making, Colson flipping you over in the dark, pounding away at your hips. When they flicked back on, the room was messy, your eyes scanned the room, falling on the complimentary ouija that sat on the table first. It had fallen out of its box, the lid on the floor next to it. Next, you realized the closet had slid open, it had one of those bendy doors that made it so when you slid it open it bent out towards you, they were called bifold closet doors, if you remembered correctly.

It was slid halfway open to reveal the empty closet behind it, the only thing adorning the shelf being a couple lone close hangers. As you watched, one looked as if it were smacked off and fell to the floor.

“It wasn’t hot anymore at that point. I didn’t see anything, I think it was my paranoia-- remember when you were a little kid laying in bed and you were like, there is a person crouching beside my bed right now and if I look over the edge at them they will have no more incentive not to kill me?” A silent understanding “It was like that, I don't know how but I know what they look like and I was fully convinced that person was crouching next to us on the bed and if I looked over there I would see him. Because the bed was on the wall, and it’s a big bed, a queen I believe, and colson and I are laying with our head at the foot of it, there was plenty of room to the side of us cause we weren’t exactly in the middle. “Wait, you said that you believed the hauntings were mechanical, so do you think this was a ghost, or a worker?”

“I think it may have been the lady at the front desk, because when we came out she asked us if we were having a good day. I don't know. I don’t think I’ve ever been turned off so fast, I mean at first the idea of a ghost or a worker watching us have sex was hot, but the thought of that… thing being there with us-- That wasn’t hot. We just, kinda, silently put our clothes on and walked out to the lobby. We went back later and got our stuff and checked out early. All I know is it was a dumb fucking idea.”

The day after the interview was released twitter was filled with variations of “If Mgk and his girlfriend wanted an audience they could’ve just asked me.”

Guess you should’ve expected that one.

#machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly smut #machinegunkelly fic #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fic #machinegunkelly fanfic #machinegunkelly fanfiction #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker fic #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader #mgk x reader #machinegunkelly x reader

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years ago

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@Meowthefluffy Zombie au au chapter 2

A happy belated birthday to you @meowthefluffy hope you enjoy it.

They had found themselves a safe space in the library. There was an underground parking to hide the car, the windows were high up so while it was well lit no one on the outside would spot movement and they could collect some books to help them survive. Knowledge and skill was crucial. Languages, knots, engineering… Anything that could help them out later. Virgil knew sign language, Janus knew French and Roman knew Spanish. They decided that to be safe they should each learn one additional language. Janus picked mandarin, Virgil Russian and Roman took Arabic. Roman had been very timid ever since they lost the horde. And Virgil hadn’t been exactly eager to talk to him. “V- Virgil? Can we talk?” Roman whispered. Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he look up from under the hood. He was checking over their car to see how long it would last them and what parts would need replacing soon. He wondered if they could make it to the shop to gather supplies for maintenance. “Listen… I understand that you are angry with me…” “Do you?” Virgil snapped as he finally got up, oil smeared over his cheeks, cleaning off his hands with a cloth he shoves in his pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest staring down at Roman. He’s definitely mad. “Because I don’t think you do. We’ve talked about how I feel about consent. But you go ahead and kiss me without so much as a warning! And then you plan to just go off so I can feel guilty and like a crappy person for the rest of my life? Are you that selfish?” Virgil seethed. Roman cringed. He did know. They’d talked about it plenty of times while watching movies. Virgil was not a fan of the ‘confess your love by kissing them without warning’ trope. “I was a coward, I know. It shouldn’t have taken the end of civilization and certain death for me to confess to you. But… I knew you’d be disgusted by me and I just…” “There’s another thing. We’ve been friends since before I can remember. You really think that little off me that I’d feel different about you just because of that?” Virgil growled. Roman looked up surprised. “But… You always laugh when people make those jokes… And…” “And that was wrong of me. I can own up to that. But you never said anything to imply you found them anything other than funny yourself. Has it occurred to you that I might do that for the same reason?” That… Roman hadn’t thought of that. “And didn’t I always come to your defense when people thought you were to girly? What did I say about that?” Virgil pointed out. “That… That I’m a different kind of manly. Like a prince…” Roman recalled. “Hence me calling you princey since kindergarten!” Virgil huffed. Roman’s head was spinning. Trying to make sense of everything he was hearing. “But you’re… You mean you’re…” Virgil was straight right? He did everything right. He rode a motorcycle, wore leather, worked on cars, liked aggressive music and guns… Sure he also wore make up but in a cool way.

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve been questioning myself for a while, I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about a lot of stuff right now. At this point I wanna see if either of our families are still around and make it so that we all live.” He stared Roman down again. “All of us. You are not allowed to die on me Roman. Understood? I’m pissed as hell. But that doesn’t change that I’ll keep you safe. Got it?” Roman’s heart went a thousand miles a minute. Virgil was right. With the end of the world hanging over their heads, this wasn’t the time to sort out this mess he’d gotten them in. But one thing was sure. Virgil didn’t hate him because of how he felt. He was mad about what he did and almost did though. And that was fair. If the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t have been very happy about it either. But things could still be fixed. Maybe. “Yes… I’ll… See if I can put something together for us to eat,” he muttered softly. “There’s some supplies in the trunk. Use the perishables first,” Virgil instructed. Roman nodded. “Right… Good idea,” he said softly as he moved to the trunk and gathered some things to cook a decent meal for three. “I’m really sorry for hurting you Virgil… I just wanted to protect you for once,” he told him before disappearing back inside. Days turned into weeks and Roman had a hard time. Virgil’s anger at him subsided. Roman even woke up a few times finding that Virgil had moved closer to him either in his sleep or due to waking up from a nightmare. And when they were awake he slowly started to relax around him again. Roman wasn’t sure if he was waiting for him to make another move on him or to pull another heroic stunt, but he was slowly trusting that he wouldn’t. Janus was… He was clever. A master strategist, if Roman was completely honest. And he was handsome. And charming. And flirty. Towards both of them. But mostly Virgil. And that made Roman nervous. Because what if it wasn’t him but Janus who’d made Virgil question whether he was entirely, strictly into girls? Roman is too insecure to ask. They didn’t find their families. They decided to assume that they got out and were somewhere safe until proven otherwise. If only for their own piece of mind. Virgil recovered his tools from the shop, as well as some extra weapons and ammunition. They managed to raid a few homes and even an apothecary for first aid kits and medicines. Roman held a meticulous catalogue of all their perishable supplies. When Janus hinted at Virgil that he could give him CPR anytime, Virgil calmly deflected him and said that Roman would be the one playing nurse if any of them wanted to survive. “Though you might need to teach me some of the basics soon. I don’t want you to die cause I don’t know how to save you,” he’d added softly. Roman had blushed and nodded. Feeling hopeful that he was getting close to being forgiven. Then one night he woke up and found Virgil sitting at the window of the abandoned classroom they were hiding in for the night. Janus was sleeping. They must’ve switched watch recently. “V?” Roman whispered. They had to talk again. He needed to know where they stood. “You should be asleep Ro. You have three more hours until your shift,” Virgil said softly. Virgil always took the middle watch. Never allowing himself 8 consecutive hours. Roman and Janus both had tried to convince him to switch it up. But Virgil was adamant. Janus took first, Virgil second and Roman third. Virgil claimed that that way they’d all have breakfast waiting when they woke up. But Roman suspected Virgil didn’t want to disrupt his sleeping schedule if he didn’t want to. Ever since they were little, Roman had more trouble staying up late than getting up early. He’d loved getting up early actually. Sunrise was his favorite. Virgil and him had slept under the stars a few times. The only times Roman had managed to stay awake and alert for most of the night. It was almost sunrise when they finally went to bed. “I can’t… We need to talk,” Roman insisted. Virgil looked back. “I guess we do,” he sighed reluctantly. Roman went to sit with Virgil and looked out over the playground. “Are you still angry?” he asked. “… I’m still scared Roman,” Virgil answered finally. “I haven’t been angry with you for weeks. But I’m scared you will do something stupid and I won’t be able to protect you. I was… I froze last time. What if I freeze again and lose you without even trying to stop you?” Roman was shocked to find that Virgil’s eyes were filling with tears. “How do I live with myself if I lose the most important person in my life like that?” he asked. It was hard, trying not to be happy that Virgil said that. But the love of his life was in pain and Roman would be damned if he didn’t take that pain away. “Virgil, I did what I did because I knew you’d freeze up. You always do when you get dropped in unexpected situations. I knew that… That would shake you up enough to let me go. I used my feelings for you and what I knew about you to do what I thought was right. I regret doing that… I’m sorry Virgil. I…” Before Roman could continue he was pulled into a tight hug. “Promise me we’ll stick together from now on. Ok? No matter what you think is best for me. We’re a team alright?” Roman let himself melt into the embrace and nodded into Virgil’s chest. “Ok,” he said softly. The next month things seemed to go back to what would be normal for them under the circumstances if they’d never had a fight. They joked and teased and Virgil was comfortable with showing physical affection again. Roman was even warming up to Janus, who told him that while he enjoyed flirting and everything, he wasn’t very interested in dating of any kind. “Virgil and I have this game we’re playing, but I don’t care much about winning. He’s all yours your highness.” Being friends was much easier after that. There were scary moments. Stray zombies in what they thought was a clear building. Sometimes they found people who’d been infected and locked themselves away to give their family time to escape. But those situations were easily dealt with. The hordes were harder. Luckily they were rare. Only loud noises and bright lights attracted them and they tried their best to avoid both. But sometimes an engine would backfire or an animal would get spooked and make a ruckus escaping.

They didn’t encounter other survivors often. Usually at a distance and it seemed an unspoken agreement to not approach each other. It was the best way to avoid misunderstanding. It was Virgil’s birthday. Roman had done his best to keep track of time and been counting the days to do something nice for him. So he gathered the right ingredients and made the closest approximation to Virgil’s favorite pasta he could. They found themselves in a restaurant, as if the universe agreed to cut them a break and so Roman found the right spices and some unopened tubes of tomato concentrate. They obviously didn’t have ground beef but Janus had gotten good at providing them with fresh meat. Virgil nearly strangled the both of them when he realized what that smell was. The dinner was interrupted by a knocking at the door. It was soft, and rhythmic. Nothing like the way a zombie would sound. Virgil, naturally, took point and stalked towards the door. They all got ready to react if their visitor was hostile. “Good evening… Say, I haven’t smelled anything that good in ages. Mind if I join?”

#sanders sides #ts sides #roman sanders #Virgil sanders #janus sanders #zombie au #prinxiety

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prose-for-hire · 5 years ago

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Giddy up

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: I came up with a request idea. I don't know if it's good, though if you don't feel inspired, just discard it. 💛 Anyway... Reader getting hurt in a fight and Spike gives them a piggyback ride home, since they can't walk. But they like it so much that even after they're healed, reader randomly demands he carry them. And to everyone's surprise, he complies, (with some grumbling of course) and thus kinda gives away his soft spot for reader. Thank you! 💛

Requested by: Anonymous

Warning: Reader gets hurt. Fluff. Light swear.

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about this request until it was written. Also: anybody know if Spike says ass or arse? He’s British but like not all his phrasing is so I couldn’t recall… I chose ‘ass’ cos I think he said ‘mom’ and stuff?

It was another late night in Sunnydale with your friends. Other people your age were out at frat parties or working a crappy job but you were sat in a demon’s cave after having lost a fight with your own feet. You had rolled your ankle rendering yourself less than your usual useless in a fight.

That’s how Spike found you. You looked up at him, clutching your ankle from the floor. You had a little cry when the others left, managing to keep the tears from falling until they were out of eyesight. Spike had come across you with a frown. He looked around before looking back at you.

“Uh, are you lost pet?”

“I’m hurt” you whispered, a little ashamed as you held your ankle unable to stand for long. He saw the discarded stake on the floor next to you that wouldn’t have done any good against the demon that lived in here.

“Bloody human running into the Big Bad’s lair with nothing but a sodding-” he grumbled, but tailed off as you hissed in pain, “Where’s the slayer?”

“I told them all to go ahead” You said softly, you knew stopping the demon was more important than your ankle. Your ankle couldn’t spit fire or break a human in half. They hadn’t realised you couldn’t actually walk on it without almost passing out.

“Oh and the sodding martyr act to top it all off” He dramatically gestured at the state you were in. Once he realised you couldn’t walk on it – especially back up the rough terrain of the cave, he decided there was only one thing for it, “Here – come on” he crouched down, facing away from you and beckoning you to get on his back.

“What are you-” You started, before it clicked. He was offering you a piggyback! Your brain was squealing in excitement.

“Haven’t got all night, pet, some of us start to sizzle when the sun rises” he beckoned a little more irritated this time as if he had other places to be, “Bloody get on will you?”

There was some awkward grabbing at each other as you literally hopped on because of your ankle. He stopped for a while, standing slowly and making sure you were firmly on and wouldn’t fall off. He also made sure he wouldn’t accidentally hit your hurt ankle as he tested walking with you on his back. It was almost as if he cared if you hurt yourself more. Despite your pain you couldn’t escape the widest grin spreading on your face as he carried you up out of the cave and through the streets of Sunnydale.

When he brought you home, he asked to come in and you had no reason not to invite him. He couldn’t eat you and he appeared to want to make sure you were actually in bed safely. You had to direct him through the unfamiliar house up to your bedroom. He determined you had a sprain and had wrapped your ankle. You had sniffled a little and he stared for a moment, his face set and unreadable. He patted your knee, an apparent gesture of comfort, as you lay in bed before he left without a word.

Spike came to check on you at nights during your recovery. Your parents were rarely at home so you were alone in the house a lot. You were living at home to save a bit of money while you struggled through college with the others. He told himself he was only checking on you to make sure you hadn’t gotten yourself horribly mauled by something living in your attic, because admitting anything else would be more dangerous than the potential attic-demon. Plus, he liked the wide grin you gave him whenever he rang the doorbell first as a courtesy rather than barging the door open. You tried to wrap your arms around him in an excited hug one night and he almost had a heart-attack and had to tell you how easily he would eat you if he ever got the chip out. But you just smiled at his gruff threat.

He had taken to carrying you to the kitchen for snacks or to get you up or down the stairs. The first time you asked to be taken up to your bedroom he had only agreed after an eye-roll and a lot of complaining. After that, he complained softly but he always did it. Sometimes he even offered, he would just gesture with his head slightly and you were already clambering up his back with his support. You were starting to think he might have a soft spot for you.

When you were okay to walk again, the visits were less frequent but he was always at the Magic Box or the Bronze when you were and you chatted softly together. You even swore you saw him smile once, but it might have been a trick of the light.

Your ankle was now completely healed and you were back fighting evil with the others. Tonight was a Scooby meeting at the Magic Box and Spike was along too. You beamed at him when he chose to sit next to you rather than stand at the back as he usually would. When it was finally over and you all stood up to leave, facing a long walk home, you found yourself missing being carried places. Also, his strong hold was very comforting and being so close to him made you very happy.

“Can you carry me?” You have him the softest, most pleading look you could muster.

“Why? Your ankle playing up again, love?” He couldn’t hide his concern but it dropped into a frown when you shook your head with a wide excitable smile when he didn’t say no.

“Turn around Spike... please? Carry me home?” You pulled at the material at the shoulder of his duster gently as most of the room watched in a stunned silence. He muttered under his breath as he started to turn around for you.

“Y/n, he’s evil, he’s not going to-” but Xander stood corrected as he had turned around to look and you had already wrapped your legs around his waist and looped your arms around his neck with a smug grin. The others all stared dumbfounded at the way he had so easily allowed you to jump into a piggyback.

“I am evil, you got that right!” Spike was pointing at Xander threateningly with one hand and balancing the other hand supportively on your thigh. You had never been on this end of the threatening before and it was a bit strange. Everyone just stared at both of you a bit unsure, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He afforded the room a glare before bringing you both outside and carrying you home. He was silent for a while, debating himself over how easily you appeared to have him wrapped around your finger, maybe he should do something about that.

“Giddy up!” you whispered playfully as he walked through the streets with your body wrapped around him, which made him stop in his tracks, turning his face to the side to look at you from his position.

“Oi – I already told you – I will bloody drop you on your ass if you say that again” he demonstrated by taking his hands off you where he had been supporting your legs. You clung on, locking your ankles tighter to stay around him.

“You wouldn’t do that to me… would you?” Your eyes wide, the tiniest pout on your lips that he could just about see. He just rolled his eyes and groaned, staying silent as he moved his hands back to support your legs and carried you through the streets.

#spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine #spike btvs #btvs x reader #btvs oneshot #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #requested #gender neutral reader #fluff #Xander Harris #scooby gang x reader #scooby gang

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purplestrawberrywerewolf · 4 years ago

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New chapter

New chapter to the Raya older brother one shot series (idek)

Avengers: Endgame AU. Hardest thing to ever write.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31347410/chapters/77602862

It’s been 5 years. 5 years since the snap happened and everyone has disappeared, including their ba. Namaari survived the snap, but lost her mother to it. Since then, Namaari and the Heart prince and princess have done whatever they could to find a way to bring them back. Which meant going back in time.

It sounded crazy, however, when Tony sent a letter to them that he had found a way to go back in time to save everyone, they went over as fast as they could. Everyone split up in teams, Namaari was going with the others to New York, and Quan and Raya were going to get the soul stone. However, Nebula left out one detail.

Now, they were standing at the edge of the cliff after red skull explained to them that one of them needs to die in order to obtain the stone. Raya sat on a rock; her knees pulled to her chest while her older brother leaned against a wall. They were thinking. One of them had to die, someone was going to get hurt in the end anyway.

“So... In order to obtain the stone, one of us has to-”

“Yes, Raya.” Quan interrupted his younger sister when she spoke up. She was a woman now, her hair a little longer and no longer in it’s one braid parted in between her hair, but now to small French braids against the side of her head while the rest was down. She never grew taller mind you, even after everything. Quan looked exactly the same, but felt older.

“But if we don’t get that stone, millions of people stay dead” Raya murmured. “I guess we both know who it’s gotta be” Quan said as he leaned off the wall and stood on his two feet.

“I guess we do” she responded as she stood up and walked over to her brother. “For the past 5 years, I’ve waited for a moment where I could bring everybody back. Where I can bring our ba back. And now it’s-”

“Don’t start getting all decent on me now, short stuff”

Raya chuckled lightly at the name. “I’m only like two inches shorter than you” she commented. The nickname stuck with her since she was only a child, when Quan would go after her for being short, which invented the nickname.

“You think I wanna do it?” She spoke softly, looking up at the other. Quan sighed. “Raya, you know what I’ve done. I haven’t been the best person or brother. A-all those times...”

Raya spoke up. “Good thing I don’t judge people at their worst. Because I’ve done some crappy things too brother, I’m trying to save your life you idiot”

Quan shook his head. “Maybe you should judge me-”

“You didn’t” the words hung in the air as the cold breeze flooded through, making Raya’s curly hair dance and making her look almost angelic. Quan quickly brought her into a hug.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” He murmured into her hair. Raya chuckled. “It’s my job” she murmured into his shoulder. They pulled apart, but still holding each other as they looked at one another. They leaned forward so their foreheads touched.

Quan pulled away. “Okay, you win. Again” he said, recalling all the fights and arguments they had growing up. Raya chuckled before walking to the edge, but barely 2 steps in, Quan shoved her onto the ground, making her yelp in surprise.

“Tell ba I love him” he said but Raya did the same thing and tackled him to. “Tell him yourself” she said before running. Quan groaned before grabbing his father’s sword and whipping it so it wrapped around Raya’s ankle and pulled her onto the floor.

He quickly dropped the weapon and began running towards the cliff, glancing at Raya’s shocked face before jumping. However, mid-way, Raya tackled him and used her father’s sword to stab into the rock, and holding them both. She quickly stuck the sword handle onto Quan’s vest so it would hold onto him. He quickly grabbed her forearm to keep her from falling.

At this point, Quan was being held up by their father’s sword and Raya was being held by her brother. “Damn you” he panted as he glanced down at her. Raya looked at the bottom before looking up at her brother. “W-what about Namaari? She needs you” he groaned.

She shook her head. “She’ll be okay. She’ll have her mother back.” She paused before looking up at her brother and seeing a flash of their father for a moment. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Let me go...It’s okay” she whispered. A tear escaped Quan’s eye. “No. I-I'm not letting you go” his voice cracked. He already lost his father; he wasn’t losing his baby sister too.

“I know, we’ve had our differences. But just know, you’re the best older brother any girl could ask for” she said, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face.

Quan shook his head. “No. I’m not losing you. W-what about ba?” He asked. She smiled sadly. “He still has you. He’ll be okay without me.” she said softly.

“I love you, Quan”

He shook his head but Raya put her foot against the cliff wall and pushed herself so she fell out of Quan’s grasp and let gravity sink her down. “NO!!!” Quan screamed as he watched his younger sister fall. Raya watched as her brother began going farther and farther from her.

The fog disappeared and Quan was forced to see his younger sister on the ground, dead. She was gone. “Short stuff” his voice cracked before a bright light illuminated from the ground and flashed.

Quan opened his eyes, and saw he wasn’t on the cliff anymore, but back in the small river. He felt a weight in his hand and realized it was the soul stone. It glowed bright, almost mocking him. Because he knew he was basically holding his sister.

He punched the water below him as tears fell from his eyes. “I love you too” he whispered back, hoping that somewhere from the abyss she could hear him.

Bonus scenes:

When everyone appeared back, they all glanced at each other. “Did everyone get it?” Tony asked. They nodded. Namaari was practically jumping with joy until she noticed Raya was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Raya?” She asked. Quan avoided her gaze before opening his palm and showing the orange stone. Namaari stood in confusion for a moment until realization hit her. “No,” she whispered, feeling her legs go weak and almost felt her soul break.

“No!” She exclaimed as she fell to her knees, feeling Nebula’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry” Quan whispered. Namaari stood on her feet, even though she felt like falling, and stormed off the platform, making sure to grab her weapon.

“No!!” The others listened with a broken heart as Namaari screams echoed down the halls, hearing as she threw things and practically broke everything in her way, and Tony didn’t even stop her, knowing how hard it is to lose someone you love.

“Do you think she knows we won?” Quan asked. It happened. They defeated Thanos, and brought everyone back, Including his ba. Having to break the news to his father that his youngest died to save him, was the hardest thing he had to do. Watching his father’s eyes widen and watched as the man fell to his knees.

Now, here they were. A funeral for Tony and Raya. “I think she knows” he responded. “I’m sure” they both turned to the voice and saw Namaari standing behind them.

Quan gave her a small smile when he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder before he walked away, leaving him and Namaari alone. They glanced at each other before she stood next to him.

They were quiet as the petals from the trees fell onto the water. Quan glanced over at the Fang princess as he noticed she was playing with a silver ring that had a small diamond. “I was going to propose..” she whispered.

“Of course,” she continued. “I was going to run it by you. I was going to propose after they whole thing was over, but...” she trailed off as she glanced at the small piece of jewlry. Quan took her hand in his in a reassuring manner. She looked up at him in surprise. “I’m sure she would’ve loved it” he whispered. He quickly pluched a pink flower from the bush. Namaari handed him the ring, and he slid it on the stem of the flower.

“She knows you loved her” he said. Namaari smiled slightly. “Same with you. Even though you guys fought all the time, I know you loved each other” she responded. They then looked out onto the flowing river as a cool breeze danced in the air, letting the scent of flower hit their noses.

They didn’t know how, but they knew that she knew that they won.

She knew.

Also! Check out my new story Mama’s Hand, I’ll leave a link right here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31367342/chapters/77566694

#pls don't hurt me #I did this instead of doing my exam #im failing #Ratld #Quan #Namaari #Benja #Raya #F*ck this hurt

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years ago

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Are you currently wearing anything red? Yeah, my shirt is red and my shorts and socks have red on them as well.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone today? I just got up like 20 minutes ago and haven’t left my bed/room yet.

What would you say is the most disgusting thing you’ve ever tasted? Seafood and wasabi are some of them.

What was the last food you got a random craving for? A hot dog. I have a like/hate relationship hot dogs, ha. It’s one of those things I have to be in the mood for and that’s very, very rare. It can be years.

Has anyone/anything made you angry recently? No.

Who did you last go to the cinema with? My mom.

What was the last song that got stuck in your head? “Stay” by The Kid LAROI ft. Justin Bieber has been stuck in my head for days.

When was the last time you listened to it? A couple days ago.

Who was the last person to say something thought-provoking? Hmm.

On your Facebook friends list, who was the last person to have their b-day? I don’t feel like checking.

How old were they? -- What did you/are you having for dinner tonight? Fridays are always my Wingstop nights.

Is your best friend in a relationship? Yes.

How old were you 5 years ago? 27.

What is something you enjoy doing, but aren’t good at? I like to sing, but too bad I can’t.

Who was the last person you talked to, whose name started with ‘C’? One of my cousins.

What colour are that person’s eyes? Brown.

Name some healthy foods that you enjoy eating. Spinach, bananas... lol that’s bad that I can only think of two things...

What is your favourite Studio Ghibli film? I haven't seen any.

Do you have a favourite hair accessory? What does it look like? I like the new flower and butterfly clips I got.

What’s your favourite type of insect? EW, NONE.

What’s your LEAST favourite type of insect? ALL OF THEM.

Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? My aunt.

What’s his/her favourite food? Hmm. I’m not sure.

Did you have a good day yesterday? What did you do? Eh, it was alright. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

When was the last time you went to a fancy dress party? It’s been a very long time since I’ve dressed up.

Who/what did you dress as? Uhh.

What genre was the last film you watched? Did you like it? I saw The Suicide Squad the other day, which is like action/superhero/adventure. I didn’t like it. :/

Have you made a sandwich today? What did you put on it? I had one with my ramen last night, which was after midnight, so yeah. It was a bologna sandwich with just Colby Jack cheese, mayo, and mustard.

If your best friend was a fictional character, who would he/she be? Why? Hmm.

Do you remember the last time you overheard part of a random conversation? Sometime this past Wednesday.

Did it make you feel awkward? No.

What were you doing at 10 o'clock this morning? It’s only 7:42AM.

How many vowels are there in your first name? 4.

What was the last song you listened to? Does it mean anything to you? I don’t remember at the moment.

What flavour was the last cupcake you ate? Red velvet.

When was the last time you complimented a stranger? I don’t tend to do that.

What’s your favourite milkshake flavour? Banana or strawberry.

Have you had an interesting or amusing dream recently? Not that I can recall.

Do you know how old your favourite actor is? Yeah, he’ll be 45 this month.

Is there anything worrying you right now? Always.

If so, have you talked to anyone about it? It’s ongoing stuff that has been going on for awhile.

Is there anything you desperately want, that you can’t have? Sure feels that way.

When will you next see your best friend? Maybe in an hour? She’s still asleep.

Apart from sleeping, what do you plan to do tonight? My usual nighttime routine.

What’s the age difference between your parents? 4 years.

You can only have one flavour of ice-cream for the rest of your life. Which do you choose? Strawberry.

Are there any foods you’ve been craving, or eating a lot of, just recently? Chicken strips from Jack in the Box.

When was the last time you wanted to do something, but didn’t do it? Recently, I’m sure.

Why did you choose not to do it? *shrug*

When was the last time you ate an apple? I can't remember.

What’s the nicest thing your best friend has ever said to you? I don’t know, there’s been a lot of things throughout my 32 years of life.

Have you ever experienced a hangover? Yeppp. Not fun.

What was the last food or drink that you tried for the first time? I don’t recall.

Did you like it? --

What do your friends think of the person you’re currently interested in? There’s no such person, currently.

Name one of your favourite foods, that starts with the letter ’S’. Sandwiches.

The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? We watched that new Disney+ Marvel show, “What If...?” that just came out.

Who was the last blue-eyed person you spoke to? My dad.

Is there a person you’d like to speak to right now? No.

Why that person, specifically? --

When you woke up this morning, what was on your mind? I was feeling achey.

At this moment, what are you most looking forward to? Nothing at this moment.

Do you have any scented candles in your home? What scent(s)? Nope.

Are you planning any special outings with family or friends? No.

Who were the last 3 males you talked to? My dad, brother, and... the cashier at the movies the other day.

Do you ever wear lipstick? What colour(s) do you prefer? Nah.

If you have a pet, when did you last pet him/her? Last night.

Do you have a favourite Celine Dion song? Nope.

Name one of your favourite foods, that starts with the letter 'C’. Chicken tenders.

Does the person love/like have a car? What colour is it? --

Have you ever received a compliment on anything you’re wearing? My mom said my pjs were cute.

Have you had any caffeinated beverages today? Not yet.

What was the last alcoholic drink you tried for the first time? I don’t remember.

Did you like it? --

Have you eaten any chocolate today? What kind? Not so far.

The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? He’s a year younger.

When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? Hmm.

What’s your favourite feature of the person you’re currently interested in? --.

How many people have you hugged today? Zero as of now.

Do you have a favourite hair colour or eye colour on your preferred sex? Blue or green eyes are really pretty.

Do you remember the first CD you ever bought? The first one I remember buying myself is Ashlee Simpson’s CD.

Is there anyone on your mind atm? Not really.

The last song you listened to - does it remind you of anyone? I don’t remember what song that was.

Is your birth year an odd or even number? Odd.

Have you eaten any of your favourite foods today? Yeah, ramen and a bologna sandwich are a couple of my favorites. I’ll have Wingstop for dinner.

What did you have for lunch yesterday? Chicken tenders from Jack in the Box.

Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? What’s his/her star sign? My aunt. I’m not sure.

How many different towns/cities have you lived in? Two.

What are your parents’ middle names? I’m not sharing that.

Are your eyes the same colour as your sibling’s? My younger brother’s are lighter.

How many pets do you have? Would you like any more? One and that’s a good fit for us.

Do you prefer still or sparkling drinks? Still.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? No.

Did you have a strange or interesting dream last night? Probably. I rarely ever remember them, though.

Which friend do you confide in most? --

Who was the first male you talked to today? What colour are his eyes? My brother, whose eyes are a lighter brown.

Are you wearing any accessories in your hair? Describe them. No.

When was the last time you felt ill? What was wrong? I always feel crappy some way or another.

If given the chance, would you change anything that’s happened today? Not much has happened so far, I’ve been up for like an hour.

Who was your first best friend? Do you still speak to that person? These two girls in preschool, Crystal and Starr. We lost touch after preschool, unfortunately.

Do you like your middle name, or does it embarrass you? Yeah, it’s fine.

Are you wearing anything that was given to you as a gift? Yeah, my mom bought these pjs.

Have you received any compliments about your appearance today? Nope.

Have you ever written a song or poem for someone special? Nope.

Have you ever had an argument with the last person you text messaged? Yes.

What colour is your shampoo bottle? Red.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Uh, no, she’s my aunt.

Do you have any ice-cream in your freezer? What flavour is it? Yeah, Funfetti.

Have you spoken to any of your neighbours today? Nope. We don’t talk with the exception of a “hey” now and then.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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carmen-berzattos · 5 years ago

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why do you not like jane the virgin season5?

Ah JTV season 5... where does one begin with JTV season 5? The utter disaster. The NERVE to call that flaming mess their best season in promotions. The insanity of thinking this the best that show has offered us when it was their worsT season.

Let’s break this down, shall we?

1. Michael’s return: I was against the idea of them bringing back Michael from the very start. One of the reasons for that was that I didn’t like the implication that the only way to validate Jafael would be by her choosing Raf over Michael in a parallel situation, ‘cause guess what, that’s a crappy message. And makes it seem like whatever relationship one enters into after the tragic loss of a partner is lesser because they didn’t choose that new relationship over the old one, which is not at all something that you want to send to any audience. But my main reason was that I didn’t think they could pull it off. And guess what? I was right. His amnesia happening and I was like okay, but what the fork are you gonna make Jane insist he remembers her only to be like but lol I love Raf so bye. And then she does exactly that but not once does she or anyone else question the rightness of such actions? Everyone is so blase about it? And speaking of memory loss, memories are such a weighty SL to take on and rarely do shows get it right. So I wasn’t expecting JtV to get it right, really. But they still royally forked it up. Because Michael with no memories = Michael is a dick and I’m like???????????? Why???? One’s personality is vastly complex???? It doesn’t hinge on specific memories and experiences only? And even in the absence of the ability to recall specific things you still can have a visceral reaction to things through simple cognition and internalization of certain habitual patterns which has nothing to do with memories?

But, okay, fine, he’s back. He has no memories. He’s kind of a jerk. Fine. Okay. But then he gets his memories back and it has absolutely no bearing on anyone who is not Jane? Rogelio loved him? He was a part of the family for over 3 years? HELLO? Does no one else care about the implications of this beyond the godawful (at this point) love triangle? Where are the emotional stakes? The drama? The fact that they lost but didn’t lose this person and now he’s back and he fits back in but also doesn’t fit in all the worst places and it hurts and no one knows what to do with it? Who the fork care about the love triangle, this person was family and he DIED and then got back and then lost his memories and now he has them back oh my god stop just standing there. DO SOMETHING.

But okay, fine. He’s back. He has no memories. He’s kind of a jerk. He got his memories back and no one cares about it meaning anything except about the triangle. Okay, fine, I’ll roll with it. Now give us some juicy delicious drama for the triangle. But they don’t? Michael doesn’t at all react to her being with Rafael. He doesn’t lose his sh*t in any way about the trauma that he had to go through. He doesn’t have feelings of anger or resentment that he lost years of his life and now he’s back only to find that the love of his life has moved on. And no one is saying that he’d be right in those emotions, but he’s a person, yes? And sometimes you feel things that aren’t right or aren’t fair because that what emotions are like and that’s where all the drama is and I’m just absolutely bAFFELD? that?? they?? missed????? such??? obviously??? ripe?? material??? for?? heartbreak???? that would have made even the most die hard Jafael shippers cry????? How?????? AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL THEM HOW TO DO THEIR JOB?? Do I have to do everything myself to get it right? Not once does Michael react in any recognizably human, non-angelic way. He acts not like a person but a cardboard cut of a man who can do nothing but tout “I just want you to be happy” and it’s like????????????????? why??????????? bring????????????????????? this?????????????? storyline????????? if you will not take full advantage of one of its most obvious emotional stakes???? whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

2. Rafael: Micheal’s return inevitably leads us to the utter garbage that was Rafael’s characterization in this season. Fork me did we get forked seven different ways with how this was handled. First and foremost, Jennie Urman kept saying that it was a huge sacrifice of Raf to bring Michael back to Jane’s life and basically, this is the act, this is the incredible sacrifice that we are supposed to hold as the criteria for everything romantic and that’ll lead us to believe that Raf is the one and I’m like????? dude??? that was basic decency? I know it must have been painful but like..... he absolutely had to tell her he had absolutely no choice???? But no, GREAT SACRIFICE. Said as such so must be taken as such.

But okay, fine, whatever. Great sacrifice. But then what? Then he gets insecure. Which makes sense considering the whole situation about Michael before. But it’s brought up in a way that just makes him.... how do I put this nicely? Makes him a dick, tbf. And I’m like Jennie wants me to root for you but you’re crying about your pain and about wanting to be engaged to the woman whose world just turned upside down and I’m like????????????? Hello?????? Can you calm tf down for twO seconds and let her figure out her way??????????

But okay, fine, whatever. Great sacrifice. Then he’s a dick. It’s fine it makes sense that he’s so insecure. The ghost of the past has crept back up and he’s so damn afraid to lose everything that he ever wanted when he was so close to having it all. And people aren’t perfect and they don’t always react in a perfect way and that’s fine. AND this is a great opportunity to explore his insecurity! And finally put him through therapy! And finally have him move on past his self destructive behavior! So they kind of do that but in the most laughable way possible. So the moment that he breaks up with Jane could have actually been a great character development moment. And it is. Kind of. It’s a moment where he acknowledges that, unlike the first time where he went as far as to try and sabotage Michael’s career to take him out of the competition and win Jane over, this time around he’s not willing to live through that charade. He’s putting his own self preservation and making it easy for Jane by taking himself out of the equation altogether. So, he breaks up with her and we seem to be on the right track, barring the whole Mateo walking in on them situation (we will get to Mateo in a second). Sure, he has that momentary relapse in the following episode where he wants her back but it’s quickly done and he starts to take anti-depressants., And I’m like YES finally, getting to the good stuff! But then... THE WHOLE STORYLINE HAPPENS OFF-SCREEN. Do you know how ENRAGING it is that something so essential to Rafael’s arc in the last season happens completely off-screen? Not once do we see him go through therapy. Not once do we see his perspective. NOT ONCE. Not to mention it happens off-screen in the span of one episode which is like 2 days at most and I’m like????????? (ALSO, an aside to writers: As a person who suffers from depression, the healing is not in the medication, the healing is in the therapy sessions. The medication is important to curb your symptoms and lift up your mood and help your brain cope with the chemical nightmare happening there. But it doesn’t address the root cause that’s made you depressed. THAT happens in the sessions. So you can’t simply throw pills at the issue. That’s only a half solution)

But OKAY, FINE. Great sacrifice. Then he’s a dick, but it sort of kind of makes sense. And then he breaks up with her our of self preservation, and then depression that happens off-screen. But then... but then NONE of his past behavior is acknowledges or talked through. Jane doesn’t confront him about it. And then, when that conversation does come up when they decide to get married in city hall, it’s half baked and doesn’t really delve into root issues.

(I could talk about Rafael’s career, too, but I Do Not Have the Strength)

3. Jafael: Which brings me to Jafael *screams into a pillow*. So like, they’re happy by the end of season 4, and it looks like they’ll make it. And they’re about to get engaged and all. And then Michael comes back to throw a wrench in the plans. Because as Jennie Urman would have us believe, conflict and choosing each other can only happen in the context of a triangle. Heaven forbid that we come up with new storylines. ANYWAY. So all of the problems of early season are discussed in Raf’s section. But then, okay, Jane chooses Raf, she tells him that he’s the one for her and leaves Michael behind. And he’s like lol, nope, I don’t trust you no more. Which, okay, makes sense. If he’s so insecure and has been spiraling, it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to be with her right now. So I go like, yeah, okay, fair. And you guys need to figure your stuff out before you can get back into this relationship. Jane understands that she needs to win him over again and that doesn’t work and I’m like, yeah, that’s not the problem. Let’s talk about the real problem. But then they don’t? We, once again, do not get to see Rafael’s perspective, not once managing to experience what’s happening in his head. So we’re kind of just left in the dark, wondering what he’s thinking and how he’s dealing.

But, okay, fine, I’ll accept that this is not what we will be experiencing. But then once they reunite, surely they will address his trust issues. Right? RIGHT? Well, guess what, I am the forking goddamned motherforking fool. Absolutely NOTHING gets acknowledged. Their reunion is not prompted by a change that Rafael feels about his issues of trust, but rather just him remembering that he loves her. Which we know. The lack of love was never the issue. The issue was, has been, is about his insecurity and there is no reason for me to believe that this has been cured by absolutely no acknowledgement.

But fine, okay, I’ll accept all of this. Fine okay, he remembered how much he’s loved her and doesn’t have the strong will to use his head anymore. He just wants her back. But, surely, once they get back together they will march their asses to couple’s counseling and figure that shirt out, yes? RIGHT? But once again I am the forking goddamned motherforking fool. It is absolutely NOT what happens. Instead, they hurtle head first into their previous arrangements, as if the past few months, ripe with trauma and emotional distress has not at all happened. And, guess what? It DOES, in fact, become an issue, when Raf wants to pressure her into a city hall marriage because he’s afraid he’ll lose her again. And I’m sitting here like...????????/ you think one conversation where she promises and swears that she’s committed to him will actually solve things? An offhanded conversation that you had like three episodes before the finale and will absolutely not acknowledge after???? And I’m supposed to believe that, what, they’re cured? Saying the right words was never the issue, it’s internalizing them??? And marriage is no guarantor of you not losing a person???? You not feeling secure in a relationship will not disappear once a wedding happens?????? hELLO????

All of what is mentioned above about Jafael is also compounded by two other bullshirt factors in their writing for season 5: Mateo and sparks/romance.

The heavy involvement of Mateo in Jafael’s relationship and storyline has got to be one of the most baffling writing decisions of this season. First, let me clarify that I understand that this would justifiably and understandably be hard for Mateo. But Mateo’s direct involvement in the emotional conflict is just... no. I cannot fathom why they had him walk in on Jane and Rafael’s break up. Having him there to heighten Jane’s heartbreak actually undercuts Jafael because it becomes more about the loss of traditional, nuclear family bliss than about the couple itself. And the continued use for him as the epitome of tragedy for this couple not reuniting only serves to reinforce the idea. Making this more of a case where Mateo is heartbroken but reassured that this doesn’t mean that they’re no longer family would have been a lot more effective, IMO.

The other thing: Sparks and romance. Usually, in big couple moments on JtV, there tends to be a big moment, a big realization before a decision is made. And that realization is usually the result of build up from that same episode if not several ones. But, this season, those moments fell short. Jane’s realization was... okay, but wasn’t caused by anything externally that happened between her and Raf. Which, I guess is fair but misses the epic romance factor. But the one that was truly anti climactic is Rafael’s moment of realization that led to their reunion. This is IT, JtV, this is your main couple reuniting. This is your main male character fINALLY ready to reunite with the titular character. No time to hold back now. But then they did? Him realizing he loves her and wants to be with ehr still is merely through a list of pros and cons that he makes about someone else only to realize that it doesn’t matter. This person is Jane. And I’m like... but what changed, really? What shift happened? What did Jane do that made those sparks fly again??? How did he make the leap to actually deciding it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A huge part of this problem is that we didn’t see any of Raf’s point of view. So it’s near impossible for us as audience members to really follow his logic.

4. Cordueva: Now, of course, talk of Jafael naturally brings us to Michael and Jane. I don’t have much to say in their regard except they were done such a huge disservice. One of the things that makes my blood boil is how not only Jane’s book about Michael had to flop, but they also had to make it so that she couldn’t at all get the deal for the book if it weren’t for regelio’s intervention. And it’s such an unnecessary extra dig at the couple? Like why do that? Why not leave it at Jane’s book being a commercial flop? Commercial flops in the book industry are very very very common for a variety of reasons, especially for young authors. In fact, debut authors especially are unlikely to earn back their advances so like, it’s not the end of the world. And it’s hardly ever an indication of the quality of the book if it doesn’t sell well. Just fucking let it be what the fuck Jennie?

(I don’t have it in me to rant more about this couple though there is more that I can just reeeeeel over I’m sure)

5. Petra/Petramos: I’m kind of lumping these together because I do not have the strength. When it comes to Petra’s characterization itself, I think they did.. fine, for the most part. I think she had really good character development and has seemed to finally find her way through life in a balanced way, which i very much enjoyed. And her relationship with Jane, Raf, and the rest of the VIllanuevas became one of my favorite things by the end. Just so heart warming. The thing that puzzles me most about the characterization is her reaction to the triangle. The writers made her the writers’ stand in for Jafael which was a little ... eh? I know that she’s friends with both of them so she has a vested interest in the whole conversation, but it felt disingenuous in its representation. More of a way for the writers to validate their own approach to the couple than anything that seemed to naturally come from the character. Though, again, this is not really a huge deal, I guess, in the grand scheme of things.

Petramos is the one that really hurts. From the moment that we find out about Petra’s long lie to JR about the Anezka situation at the end of season 4, I knew we were in trouble for season 5. I couldn’t see how they could bounce back from that within the span of only 18 episodes that seemed already bloated with conflict and need to wrap up. I knew that while we were going to get some swoon worthy scenes between the two, the writing was going to be truly unsatisfying for the story. And that’s exactly what we ended up with: a half-baked initial reunion, followed by a quick relationship escalation, a brutal, traumatized and abrupt break-up, silence for the rest of the season, culminating in an endgame reunion that was anti-climactic and made no real sense. I have no reason to believe that what Petra and JR went through won’t happen again because the underlying cause that led them to a break-up never got fixed. And JR’s realization is far from effective because it happens off-screen, so there isn’t an arc that we’re following that would lead to the cathartic moment of their reunion. I’m glad we had that, don’t get me wrong. But it was not good enough.

6. Jane: This is the last character that I will go in-depth for. And even then, I’m not really sure how much strength I have for a deep-dive. I’m truly disheartened by the direction of Jane’s character by the end of the show. This is mainly due to the love triangle. Her SL was SO focused on the love triangle that she had very little else to do. And unlike season 1 and 2 where Jane’s love life worked in tandem with everything else that was happening in her life (being a mother to Mateo, her writing, her family, her friendships, her own inner world) none of these things truly shined in this last season. Her most satisfying interactions where with Petra. But all her other Storylines fell flat.

My main beef about this is her writing. What the actual fork happened to them this season when it comes to her writing? Jane has always been so good about incorporating Jane’s writing as a thread that holds the show together. They did it in entertaining and creative ways that weaved it seamlessly into the show without feeling too trite or too self conscious. But this last season just couldn’t seem to give a fork about Jane’s career as a writer anymore. Gone the magical realist elements stirred from her writing. Gone her alternate personas that she bounced ideas off of. Gone all the build up for the book. Instead, she writes the whole books, submits it, gets an agent, and gets a deal all within the span of like 3 episodes. There is no build up. It’s not thought through and has little bearing on emotional stakes beyond getting the deal. The show before has managed to somehow use Jane’s writing to propel forward storylines or plots. Sometimes, they were comedic goals (like her characters materializing and having conversations with her to offer insights, or the time when she messed up and sent a recording of her and Michael’s first time instead of her manuscript) or spurred on character relationships )the time when her story that’s based on Xo was accepted to be published and caused conflict) or were involved in a cathartic process for characters’ development (Her book about MIchael getting written and published). This last book that she writes feels so disjointed and has no bearing on anything else happening in the show beyond itself. It does not propel her into reconciliation with Rafael since it’s essentially the re-telling of their story. It doesn’t write into existence a different ending for the characters that would be interesting and imagine alternatives for their lives. It kind of just exist as a wink wink nudge nudge this is what we’re watching but how and WHY that’s important doesn’t really seem to matter all that much. And I’m like .. okay, cool.

The more disappointing thing about it is the lack of build up. For fork’s sake Rogelio’s telenovela had more build up than Jane’s book. That’s very confusing to me. Why would you not be so damn focused on this book that will bring Jane eventual success like it’s the thing that you’ve been building up to, because it IS the thing that you’ve been building up to?

Her wanting to give up after like three rejections is also confusing. Rejection is literally the name of the publishing game. Three rejections are nothing yo, you gotta be patient and have tough skin. And Jane does not seem like the kind of person who would not have that kind of resilience of that kind of faith in herself to become a hopeless mess after three (3) agents said no.

(Another thing that really salts my roots is how uninterested this show is in the publishing process. Absolutely nothing of what they did is realistic, starting from Jane’s belief that 3 rejections is catastrophic, to her agent putting the book on auction after ONE publisher is like idk :/ how would we sell it to the fact that Jane MAILS in her manuscript like we still live in the early 2000′s. Nearly no one accepts physical manuscripts anymore yo, it’s a near obsolete practice. Not to mention, the whole Michael must agree to the publication of this book is pretty bullsh*t, this is being published as a work of fiction. Not a memoir. There is no case for getting his permission because it’s a work of fiction, will be promoted and published as such, even if it says based on real life events, it’s still a work of fiction. Any problems that would arise out of a specific characterization done by the author will be personal problems between the writer and the Real Life person who does not enjoy the way they’re presented in the fiction. But from a legal stand point, it’s a work of fiction. Those characters belong to Jane because of that fact. But this is more of a personal beef because I work in the industry than anything else really)

The other SL that fell flat when it comes to Jane is the whole thing with Rose. That ending for Rose in itself was pretty anti climatic, but it is even more so by how completely ineffective Jane was in taking Rose down. I’m very confused by why the Narrator would say that Jane took down Rose. I’m like nah man she did shit.

7. Misc: These are just a few other scattered thoughts that made season 5 that much worse. Xo going to nursing school is confusing, out of character, and comes out of nowhere. Out of everything, honestly, this is not something that I imagined would be good for her. Alba and Jorge took so much time from everything else and were simply not that interesting. Jorge is kind of a dick, and Alba has nothing going for her beyond him this season. The other thing that I do not understand is how much time we spent with River Fields. I’m like but does anyone actually care? I know it’s Brooks Shield and all but I don’t give a damn about her emotional journey or her relationship with her daughter. Like just who cares, these realizations have no emotional bearings on our main cast why are we wasting time on this. The shoe-horned happy ending for Michael also felt disingenuous.

All in all, the last season of JtV was bad because the show forgot everything that it did well over the course of it’s earlier seasons. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

#jane the virgin #hello this is an essay #i did not think i'd muster the energy for this lengthy of a rant lmao

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smileyjaeminies · 5 years ago

Text

Call me friend

Synopsis: Your relationship with Jisung is complicated to say the least. How long will you be able to put up with his mood swings and push and pull tactics?

Word Count: 4,1k

Genre: Angst, fxck boy! Jisung

Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking

Member: Jisung, ft. some of Skz

A/N: When I started writing my Minho work, I knew it should be followed up with something about Jisung. I hope you enjoy the mess that is this fic, I surely did!

This work is based on Billie Eilish’s ‘when the party is over’, please listen while you read!

What began as a slight drizzle, soon turned to a full on downpour. The rain struck harshly on the widows, providing another layer of background noise that blended with the soft sounds of music playing through your speakers. The song was one you were unfamiliar with, but you didn’t have time to think about it too much, all your thoughts surrounding the boy in front of you, the feeling of his arms around you and his tongue exploring your mouth.

Lighting struck, making a noise too loud for you to dismiss. You jumped visibly, goosebumps standing up on your skin. You broke away from the kiss, raising your head to look out of the window.

“What is it?” Jisung whispered.

Your eyes skimmed the world outside, the wind making the trees dance and the rain making little puddles on the streets.

“It’s nothing” you tried.

Your voice failed you however and as lightning struck for a second time, you couldn’t repress a small squeal.

“Y/N, are you scared of lightning?” Jisung asked you, rubbing your arm sweetly.

You wanted to say no, hating looking vulnerable in front of other people, especially him. With one look at Jisung’s expression however, you knew he had already seen too much to be fooled. A soft nod did the trick, as Jisung graced you with a soft smile before hugging you close to his chest.

“Do you want me to stay? We can just chill for a while until the storm blows off” he offered.

“Okay… But we have to watch my ‘I’m having a bad day’ movie.” You tried to bargain.

“Which is?” he asked curiously.

“Miss Congeniality” you answered him.

He grunted loudly, falling back on your bed. He didn’t bother to try to change your mind so soon after both of you were under your blankets watching the movie. You would jump here and there, but Jisung would always reach for your hand to console you.

You thought you’d be too tense for it, but slowly you fell asleep on Jisung’s side. Waking up the next morning, you found yourself alone in your dorm room. You tried not to be disappointed, but your heart fell when you realized the space beside you was empty.

He always did this. Always tip- toed against the edge of friendship and relationship. Always promised to stay, only to disappear once you fell asleep. Always went from hot to cold in a second, always managed to lure you back in.

It had been a few months since the first night Jisung kissed you. You recall the small gasp you let out and how he used it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Since then, you had tried (and failed) to cut it off with him on numerous occasions.

And yet… Jisung was like a drug to you. You knew he was so, so bad for you, but you couldn’t help sticking to him. So every time he knocked on your dorm door, or took your hand to lead you somewhere more private at a party, you let him. Because you couldn’t imagine a world where you’d say no to him, or at least, one where he would take it.

As much as it tore you to pieces, this dynamic between you worked. And for every fight, Jisung would make it up to you with a wonderful evening for just you two. Even if he’d ignore you the next day in class. Even if he’d leave.

You stayed in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep and cherishing Jisung’s lingering scent on your bed sheets. He smelled of pine wood, something about a body wash he used all the time. Suddenly, you remembered there was a party at Chan’s that night, a party you were expected to attend, to meet one of Jisung’s old childhood friends.

You turned around on your bed to face the window. You wondered how Jisung would introduce you to this guy. Probably just a friend. A friend he frequently kissed and spent the night with. A friend he shared breakfast with and knew their order at McDonald’s. Just friendly stuff... Right?

It was high time you headed to the library to get some work done. You got ready and walked the short way from your dorm to the campus’s coffee shop, to caffeine up and get to studying. On this Saturday morning, everyone seemed to be rushing to the library, and you couldn’t really blame them. With midterms coming up and deadlines soon approaching, everyone had their own load of work to get done.

You chose a table near the window and set up your things. Opening the half-done word document, you let out a long sigh. This assignment was due soon, but you simply hated working on it. It was partly the reason you had texted Jisung the previous night, you needed a breather. Usually, he would be the one to reach out for whatever crappy excuse, only to come to your dorm and steal away moments of comfort.

You shook your head, trying to shake away your thoughts as well. You did your best to concentrate and get at least some work done. After a few hours of furiously writing down information, writing and re-writing your thesis, you could safely say your mind was turning into mush.

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh before getting back to work. As you tried to word your argument better, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder, and someone pressing a kiss on your cheek. You jumped and were about to snap, when Jisung plopped down on the chair next to you, giving you his signature gummy smile.

Your anger evaporated immediately, as you smiled back at him.

“Hi, gorgeous” he greeted you.

“Thanks for the heart attack” you whispered back.

“You looked so cute, I just couldn’t help myself” he answered, resting his head on his hand.

And there it was. By doing the bare minimum, he had you wrapped around his finger. And the worst part was, you didn’t even mind.

You faked being angry, looking away from him and back to your work. He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke up.

“What time should I pick you up tonight?”

That was a first. For the longest time, you would arrive separately at parties, despite leaving together each time. You tried to mask your excitement when you answered him.

“Oh, I don’t know. Just tell me when to get ready.”

“Does 10 o’clock sound good?” he asked.

“Sure” you told him, nodding your head but not looking at him.

“Can I get a kiss?” he whispered, inching closer to you.

“Nope.” You teased, not tearing your eyes from your books and notes.

“Y/N” he warned, his voice getting deeper.

“Hm?” you asked, feigned ignorance.

And you broke him. He grabbed your face, turning you to face him before connecting your lips. You drew away quickly, as your cheeks heated up. His cocky smile only made your cheeks burn brighter, as you kicked him under the table, murmuring a “Shut up”.

He got up, holding his aching shin, to place a small kiss on your head.

“Can you wear that red dress that I like?” he asked.

“I don’t know… Can I?” you pushed him further.

He shot you a stern look as he walked away. Tonight was going to be fun, you decided.

------------------------------------------------

A few minutes before ten, you found yourself sitting in front of the mirror, placing a few extra curls into your hair. You were wearing the red dress Jisung asked for, with a set red lipstick and black heels. As you were giving your hair one last look, your heard a knock on your door.

Standing up to answer it, you weren’t surprised to find Jisung waiting on the other side. He was wearing all black, finishing off his ripped jeans and t-shirt with a black leather jacket.

“Bad boy much?” you asked him, moving inside to grab some necessary items to put in your purse.

“Fuck you.” He told you and you smiled at yourself.

“Not quite yet.” You told him, pushing him out of the door.

You made your way to Jisung’s familiar car that was parked in front of your building. You drove off to Chan’s place as a random radio station filled the silence in the car. You were humming to the song when you felt Jisung rest his hand on your thigh, which you brushed off as something he did now and again.

However, when his hand started moving, pushing your dress further up your thigh, you knew you had to intervene. Placing your hand on top of his, you moved it on the center console, dropping it on there. You gave his hand a little pat when you saw it gripping the stick.

“Behave” you simply told Jisung, who did nothing to acknowledge your words.

Shortly after, you were parking the car on Chan’s already busy street. The faint sound of music got louder as you walked towards the house with Jisung next to you. Of course he wasn’t holding your hand or anything, simply walking beside you.

You were about to walk up to the house when Jisung pulled you back. You looked at him, expecting him to say something, but he stayed silent, merely looking at you.

“What?” you asked him.

Again, he took a few moments to look at you before speaking up.

“Nothing. You look pretty” he said simply, holding your hand and leading you inside the house.

You tried not to think about your entwined hands as you walked in, already faced with a crowd of people dancing, drinking and smoking. You navigated through the well-known house, with Jisung dropping nods and hello’s here and there. You stopped at the kitchen first, where you fixed yourself a drink while Jisung talked to a friend of his.

You tried to walk to the living room to find Chan, but yet again, Jisung stopped you.

“Tonight, you stick with me” he whispered in your ear and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine.

He didn’t bother to introduce you to the person he was talking to, only kept you close by holding your waist as you mulled over his words. He didn’t give you enough time though, so you were completely taken aback when he started lightly pushing you to the living room.

You tried to keep your head straight as you walked in the room, finally finding some familiar faces there. You wiggled out of Jisung grasp to fall into Chan’s arms, thankful to finally be with someone on your side.

Chan was your connective link with Jisung. You were proud to say he had been your friend first, as he used to live on the floor just above you in the dorms. Through mutual runs to the campus’s coffee shop and running different errands around campus, a friendship blossomed between you, one you maintained even after Chan decided to join a fraternity in his second year.

He was partly the reason you met Jisung too, although you never held it against him. He was a good friend and always gave you honest advice. He urged you to cut things off with Jisung on numerous occasions, but your reply was always the same.

“He won’t let me go”

“Oh, finally” you said, squeezing your friend in your arms.

“What took you so long?” Chan asked.

“He won’t let me go. He’s being so weird today, I don’t know what’s wrong with him” you answered.

Chan shot a quizzical look to Jisung over your shoulder before greeting him warmly. Changbin, one of Jisung’s best friends and also part of the fraternity, greeted you with a curt nod, which you returned.

The party went on as you danced and drank, Jisung drilling holes into your skull every time you walked two feet away from him. At some point, you were tucked in a corner with a friend of yours, Courtney, when Jisung emerged from the kitchen, bee lining straight to you.

“He’s here” he told you, forcefully taking your hand and dragging you to the door.

A boy emerged, who you recognized from pictures as Minho, Jisung’s childhood friend. He was strikingly handsome, his jet black hair now pushed back away from his forehead, complimenting his fair skin. He looked put together, adorning a sky blue button down with black jeans.

You didn’t fail to note how his eyes shined when they fell upon Jisung, or how warmly the two boys hugged. After exchanging a few words between themselves, they simultaneously turned to look at you.

“This is my friend, Y/N” Jisung introduced you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

At the sound of the word ‘friend’ you turned to look at Jisung. You wanted to scoff at him, after all the things he’d pulled today, ‘friend’ was how he introduced you. You remembered your promise to be nice when you met his friend, so you plastered a fake smile on your face and gave him your sweetest look.

“It’s wonderful to meet you! Jisung talks a lot about you!” you told him.

“I hope he hasn’t told you all the embarrassing things I’ve ever done. I think he keeps a list” Minho said jokingly.

“I sure do! It’s alphabetized.” Jisung played along.

And so Minho was led further into the room and introduced to a couple of other friends, before the both of them took a seat on the couch. You had just returned to Courtney’s side, when you felt someone staring at you. You glanced around the room, only to make eye contact with Jisung.

He was doing nothing to be discreet, staring at you over Minho’s shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You stared back at him just as openly, keeping up your conversation.

When he motioned you to go over to him, you slightly shook your head. You excused yourself for a refill and walked in the kitchen.

“Jesus!” you screamed over the loud music.

In the middle of the kitchen stood Changbin, face sucking a girl you didn’t know. They broke apart to look over at you, not bothering with a ‘Sorry’.

“Get a fucking room. The kitchen is public space” you said, grabbing a Smirnoff bottle.

“Fuck you.” Changbin said.

“Why would I? She already is” you told him, pointing at the other girl and walking out.

“What’s your fucking problem?” Changbin asked, following you.

You pretended not to hear as you walked back in the living room. Changbin grabbed your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“I asked you a question” he said, pulling you close to him.

His breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes, but then again, yours probably did too. You were about to answer him, probably break his tiny arm in the process, when Jisung stepped in.

He pulled his friend away, pushing him in a corner where they struck up a heated conversation.

“Is everything okay?” a voice asked behind you.

You turned around to find Minho looking at you curiously. You shook your head, suddenly completely overwhelmed. The blasting music and bright lights weren’t helping your case, so you moved outside without a word.

You took your seat on the front lawn, moving your head to look at the sky. You soon regretted that decision, your head throbbing in dismay. You let out a whine, shutting your eyes closed.

When your head stopped spinning and your eyes came back in focus, you realized that someone had sat down next to you. You were surprised to find Minho next to you, head looking up.

An awkward silence set between you as you couldn’t think of anything to say. You took your chance to get some clean air, maybe too much as the wind came in contact with your skin, making you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he asked softly.

“A little” you replied with the same tone.

“Do you want to go back inside?” he asked again.

You didn’t need to think, only shaking your head no. He looked at you with almost a sad look on his face, softly cocking his head on one side.

“I only just got here… I wish we’d had a chance to talk more” he said.

You didn’t know how to answer him, so you just didn’t. Opening the Uber app, you tried to call for one.

“You’re getting an Uber? Don’t you have a ride?” he asked you.

“I don’t think my ride wants to talk to me right now” you said.

The Uber was going to be there in seven minutes. You announced the new piece of information to Minho who simply nodded his head.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” he asked.

You were getting tired of his constant questions, but you didn’t want to be rude. You nodded your head, turning to properly look at him.

“I think you’re really beautiful. From what I’ve gathered from Jisung, you’re not seeing anyone right now, so I thought that maybe I could get your number? Maybe we could go out some time, get to know each other better.” He said.

The world started spinning again. It must have been some kind of sick joke. Or maybe a test? You ran a hand through your hair, before turning around…

Only to find Jisung looking straight at you.

His eyes were burning with anger, his fists clenched on his sides. He looked from you to Minho, waiting for someone to speak up. At the end, he did.

“So? What are you gonna do? Go on a little date to get to know Prince Minho over there?” he mocked you.

“Maybe I will. Since I’m not seeing anyone right now.” You answered, confronting him on his lie, Minho’s presence long forgotten.

“Isn’t that so?” Jisung asked, jumping down from the porch and walking up to you.

“Hey, aren’t you happy that your two friends are getting along?” you asked, almost slapping the word friend on his face.

“Fuck, I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you were this bad” he spat out.

You would have liked it better if he slapped you. You raised your hand to strike him, but Minho held you back. You shot him an incredulous look, twisting away from his hold.

“That’s enough, both of you” he said sternly.

“What do you know about it?” you asked him, giving him a hard shove.

Your emotions were overflowing from you, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your hands were shaking with anger, your knees weak. The phone in your hand buzzed, announcing the arrival of your Uber who honked to get your attention.

Jisung came up to you, your faces almost touching. You took a sharp breath at the close proximity, immediately cursing your body for the way it reacted to him.

“You’re mine. You and I both know it. So don’t fucking test me.” He warned.

“Fuck that. I’m mine. I’ve had enough of your shit, go find another rag doll to do whatever you please with. Don’t you dare came crawling back to me again. If I see you in front of me, I will end you”” You spat back at him.

He was taken aback, almost falling when you pushed him away from you. His anger was short-lived however, now regarding you curiously, seemingly not realizing what you were saying to him. You turned to leave, but decided you had one last thing to say. You met his eyes, your voice sure when you said,

“I told you once that I thought I didn’t have it in me to hate someone. But I hate you. I hate you so much” you told him, a sob choking you.

He made one step closer to you as you took a step back. Your Uber honked once again and finally you turned around, walking in the car.

“Please drive” you told the woman seating behind the wheel.

You saw Jisung running up to the car as you drove off, but you weren’t moved.

“Is everything alright darling?” she asked you.

Tears were now streaming down your face, probably ruining your make up.

“Not really. But I’ll live” you answered her, your voice breaking.

“It’s going to be okay girl, I believe in you” she told you.

“Tonight was supposed to be fun” you thought to yourself.

You whispered a thank you to her and stayed silent for the rest of the short ride. Finally safe and sound in your dorm room, your phone started ringing, Jisung’s name dominating the screen. You declined his call, turning off your phone completely.

Your head felt heavy, so without bothering with your make up, you slipped in your most fuzzy pajamas and inside your covers. Exhausted from the ups and downs of the day, you turned your brain off, falling asleep almost immediately.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

You were woken up from a loud knock on your door. You knew who it was, so you just shuffled deeper inside your comforter, hoping to brush him off. He was persistent, you’d give him that, knocking for almost fifteen minutes. He would call out for you again and again, pleading you to answer the door.

All of it fell on deaf ears. And as your silence only grew, his desperation did as well. He started screaming, threatening that he was going to break down the door. He then proceeded to call you every name in the book, so loud security came to take him away.

You spent the rest of the night alternating between crying and staring blankly at your ceiling. You must’ve drifted off without realizing, for you managed to peel your eyes open sometime the next day. You made yourself get off the bed and into the bathroom. The hot water cleared your head as much as your body and as you walked out of the shower, you had your game plan laid in front of you.

You forced down some of yesterday’s leftovers, before burying yourself back in your bed. You tried with all your might to compose yourself and decided it was time to open your phone.

The second it was on, a flood of messages poured in. You read of 110 missed calls from Jisung, with about 30 voicemails. A complicated array of texts was also to be found, a good portion of them from Jisung and also some from Chan.

Taking a deep breath, you opened Jisung’s messages. You didn’t bother reading them, only started writing your own message to him.

Jisung,

You finally broke me, didn’t you? You managed to make me snap. I will not apologize for last night.

The truth is, this is my last goodbye to you. I had a realization last night. That is one simple fact: You won’t be able to hurt me if I don’t let you. And I’ve let you hurt me for far too long.

Starting tomorrow, I won’t be using this number anymore. I’ll start afresh and I’m leaving you behind. I’m going to switch dorms too and I’ll be staying over at some friend’s until that happens, so don’t bother to come over again. I know you know my timetable, but don’t make a fool out of both you and me in front of our professors. Security usually isn’t too far away and I’d hate for someone to haul you out of your own uni.

I’m sorry I spent so much time on you. I’m sorry to me. I should’ve known better. But oh well.

Jisung, I hope one day you come to know how good I was to you. And consequently how bad you were to me. Perhaps after this you’ll grow a pair, perhaps not. Surely I won’t be there to find out

Bye now.

PS: Don’t bother Chan to help you find me. He won’t.

Not even bothering to read it through, you sent the text. It was read immediately. You even had time to see the three little dots pop up before blocking his number. You switched off your phone again for good measure, dropping it under your bed.

The plan was in action. Step one was done. Steps two through four would be left for tomorrow. Step five would be the hardest one. But with enough time, you’d be able to let him go.

#han jisung #jisung #skz jisung #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids jisung #jisung angst #han #han angst #han x reader #jisung x reader #angst #bad boy jisung #alex #alex writes

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silverypurple-rosedlions · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐦𝐢𝐧)

Lee Seokmin has authorized you access to Chapter Two of Chapter Unlock, Lee Seokmin.

🥀//TW: This will contain various mentions of drugs, graphic blood and gore, and mild language. If you are uncomfortable with what is listed, do NOT read as this warning is for your safety. Only read at your own risk and be prepared for what will be mentioned within this chapter. This does not promote anything mentioned in this, and keep in mind that this is for entertainment purposes, and ONLY relates to the backstories made within THIS world The Purple Rose is in.//🥀

There was this time I remember as clear as day, almost as if I could put myself back in that moment where I am, and relive it. It was the beginning of a new path for me, painting the pathway of a new life I could control, for better or for worse. But it haunted me for years, and I could never touch things like it for so long, no matter if it were part of the job. I couldn't even place a finger on anything related to it. It was drugs. I could never touch drugs, but it's funny how it was the very thing that pushed me over the breaking point of my fragile mind. It was Xanax, mostly known as 'Xanny," for secretive reasons being that it was in the possessions of High Schoolers, barely the legal age to consume any drug. But I didn't do it willingly. I wasn't intoxicated by my choice, but by force.

It isn't a surprise that people, especially teenagers growing into adulthood, were overshadowed, stuck in the clutches of depression and anxiety. Unfortunately, I was among the numerous teens who were lost, damaging their minds, and sometimes, bodies. But some tended to find other ways to avoid the pain, to numb their thoughts of what troubled them and kept them awake every night.

Sometimes, they numbed it by doing absolutely nothing, just sitting there in silence, staring at nothing but something no one could see but them, and letting themselves deteriorate gradually. But what was well-known was people taking things to numb themselves temporarily. Some took sleeping pills, helping them to sleep every night. Others would fill their lungs with chemicals, smoking outside of the school, or hidden within the alleyways. Of course, there were pills and cocaine. The typical substances that everyone knows. Then, there was Xanax.

I didn't know what that was at the time, other than it was drugs, and whenever you met someone broken, it was likely they had it stuffed within their pockets or bag, waiting for the night to come and consume them. It wasn't a common drug in our area, mostly a rare chance someone could get their clammy hands on the drugs and become stoned. But one person always found ways to get an entire bank of it, sharing it among friends and other students, but it came at a high price.

How did I get into this mess? I honestly don't recall. It's foggy when I attempt to remember what I had said and what I had done to attend a party crowded with teenagers chugging beer after beer, snorting the chilling white substance in their nose, throwing their head back as they let that so-called "bliss," take over them. Others chose to numb themselves with another, embracing lust and letting it be something to distract themselves and "relieve" themselves.

I didn't support any of it, nor did I want to become involved. I was a clean person, and I couldn't stand being next to someone who did it, too anxious about what they'd tell me of their countless nights of wasting themselves, slowly letting the substances eat them without a care in a world.

But it happened in mid-February after I turned 17, and my closest friend disappeared without a trace. The last time I had spoken to him was in December, before the accident, before receiving mental care in an Asylum.

There was a party after a few days I turned 17, and before it I knew, I was there. I was sitting there in the room, music booming and causing the house to quiver and shake, and numerous teens were laughing and stumbling around, drunk and stoned. Then there was me, sitting in my bubble with a canned coke in my hand, feeling small and alone. I was alone in a house full of teens drugged, and in a place of someone, I didn't know who, with a can clutched tightly, my nose wrinkled at the stench within the house that no one seemed to care for.

I looked around the room, brows furrowed as I watched the teenagers around me, some older than me, laugh and accept anything handed to them. My head was throbbing at this point, the music becoming unbearable as it spat vulgar words, echoing throughout the house.

'It's too cramped,' I thought, trying to inhale through my nose, only to end up coughing as the smoke entered through my nostrils, causing them to flare. My eyes stung as I forced myself off the couch, bumping into a male shorter than me. He turned around, his eyes dilated and bloodshot. In shock, I yelped, stumbling back onto the couch again.

'Ugh! Why did I come here with that idiot,' I thought pitifully, bringing my knees to my chest, still holding the canned drink in my hand.

That's when a girl slid into my view, smiling widely at me as she giggled, holding two small glasses of beer, sloshing. "Hey, Lee!"

"Thank goodness, Mimi Noona!" I exclaimed with irritation, unfolding, and looking at the said girl, shaking my head. But my eyes narrowed on the glasses, groaning as I snatched one, flipping it and purposely spilling it onto the carpet that was already stained.

"Dude! What the heck?!" Mimi growled, looking distraught as the carpet absorbed it. But I could care less, frowning as I grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her gently to sit beside me.

"Noona, can you not kill yourself with this stuff?"

"Aww, come on, Lee. I'm not killing myself with this stuff," Mimi said with exasperation, downing the only last shot she had available in her hand. "Why not try it? Hasn't it been rough lately for you? I remember you complaining that you haven't been able to have time for yourself,"

"Yeah," I reply, rolling my eyes. "But as much as it's nice to get out, I don't want to spend it here, Noona. I don't want to take this crap. I want to go home now, and you're my only way home! You drove me from Seoul, all the way here in Gwangju! And to the farthest PART of Gwangju, Mimi!"

"Seokmin, Seokmin, Seokmin," Mimi chanted, shaking her head as she rested her hand on my shoulder, looking at me with a queer expression. "Lighten up! You're safe with me. I promise I won't get too stoned and be able to drive us home,"

"Uh, no!" I snap, smacking her hand off my shoulder. "I don't trust you with driving when intoxicated, Mimi! Seriously," I sighed heavily, tilting my head slightly. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing has, Seokmin," Mimi responded, but I wasn't convinced as she took a cigarette from the person beside her and took a puff, blowing it towards me. I scoffed, swatting it away and coughing as she laughed. "I know this isn't around your alley, Lee. But you have to experience it at some point."

"I'm seventeen!"

"Aaand?"

"You're unbelievable!" I said, standing up and pushing through with all my might to exit the living space, but Mimi was trailing behind, gripping the back of my shirt to keep up.

"Okay, okay, Seokmin." I turned to her, crossing my arms. "But you have to do at least ONE thing for me, and then we'll go. Just like you want to, and I won't take anything else,"

"If it's taking some crappy drugs or drink, then no," I answered in disgust, beginning to turn around, but she took me by the arms, pulling me to face her again.

"Listen! You only live once, Seokmin. And I swear this drug isn't as crazy as the ones like cocaine," Mimi said, attempting to guide me towards the back table within the kitchen, where a group of boys was, but I stood firm, becoming unmoveable.

"Doesn't matter! I don't want to become like some messed up kid," I frowned, but something, no, someone pushed me from behind, guiding me to the boys with Mimi smiling. "Hey! Get your hands off of me!"

"Relax, Seokmin," A male said calmly, smiling at me as the group of boys circled the three of us. My heart was beginning to race, my hands becoming sweaty as Mimi went to one of them and received two tablets of pills. "Everything is going to be alright. It'll just make you feel more energetic is all,"

'Lying,' I thought, my eyes darting as I struggled to leave the circle, but my attempts were ineffective, and I was shoved to the center, shrinking. 'They're lying to me. Was this planned? Was Mimi trying to drug me?'

"Let me out, you guys!" I shouted as Mimi approached me, ribbing me softly.

"Stop being such a scaredy-cat, Lee," Mimi giggled as if this was some funny joke they were playing. But it wasn't. Why were drugs and alcohol fun and games to them? Did they believe this would solve their pain and numb it forever? I didn't want this. I didn't agree to come here in the first place, or did I? Why was I here again? What was I doing?

"Help. Let me out. LET ME OUT."

"It's just two little tablets. I doubt they'll have any effect on you, Lee," Mimi grinned, revealing the pills within her palms. "Xanax." It was a small, white bar with the name labeled on it, causing my stomach to churn. Before I could smack them away, Mimi closed her hand, jerking it back and shaking her head. "Yah! Don't waste these, Lee!"

"Just think of them like pain killers, dude," One of the boys said, taking the pills and dropping them into a cup of what was likely beer. But I shut my mouth closed, fists clenched as I shook my head in refusal.

"I don't want it. I don't want it!"

"Seokmin, don't be stubborn," Mimi said, taking the cup from the male and attempting to have me drink it, but I kept turning my head in denial, backing away from her.

And if I could, I would shout. I would scream for help, but who was going to help me? Everyone was intoxicated, too stoned that they were unable to form a sensible conscience other than let themselves loose. And there was no adult. I didn't see any adult. So it was just me against more than six boys and a girl, who I wasn't sure I could call a friend anymore. No. I shouldn't EVER call her a friend after this.

"Pussy, much?" One of the boys laughed, stepping forward and grabbing me by the arm. Frightened, I jerked my arm out from his grasp, only to be held by the boys, restricting me from any attempt to escape. The only thing I could do was keep my mouth shut, keeping my head down. "Is your friend always like this?"

Mimi sighed, grabbing my chin and lifting my head. "Sadly, yeah. But he's cool. Just help me,"'

"GET OFF! GET OFF!"

"I know how to help," One of the boys said, stealing the cup from Mimi's hands, and suddenly, his fist went forward, slamming against my stomach. My eyes widened in response, my mouth opening as a scream of pain escaped but as muffled, the boy shoving the drink into my mouth and forcing it down, some of the boys laughing while Mimi let out a noise of distress.

"You didn't have to hurt him!"

Tears ran down my cheeks as the liquid slithered down my throat, the pills scratching it. And once it was down, the boys released me, watching as I doubled over onto the floor, holding my stomach, sputtering.

"Crybaby, much?" Someone snickered, the rest laughing. But it slowly became distant and distorted, muffling as my vision blurred.

My stomach churned, my throat burned, and my eyes stung. I felt itchy as if I should tear at my skin, almost as if doing so would make it stop. But that wasn't the worst of it. I began to feel nauseous as the floor, the room, and the people becoming distorted around me, my head throbbing, my heart pounding irregularly, almost as if it could burst from my chest.

"Make it stop. Make it stop."

That's when I felt a hand rest on my back, but I didn't want them to touch me. Whoever the person was, their touch burned. It felt as if they were able to scorch my body through the fabric of my shirt. It hurt and made me feel worse.

"Don't touch me... Get your hands off of me!"

I couldn't even decipher what I was saying, but I knew my mouth was moving. I knew I was saying something, but I couldn't hear myself. I couldn't hear anything illegible but muffled voices and...screaming? Is someone screaming?

"You'll pay! You'll pay!"

I couldn't see anything as darkness filled my vision, but I knew I was moving. I knew my arms were moving and something, no, someone was retaliating? I could feel them grab at me, their nails digging into my arm, my sides, and perhaps my legs. But they were under me, I think? What was I sitting on them? Am I holding them against something? Why are my hands wet? They're wet. What is it? What is it on my hands?!

"STOP IT! STOP IT!"

I was gasping, the sound suddenly booming in my ears as screams filled the house, sounds of cries rushing through my ears, shaking my brain violently. I blinked and blinked again, my eyes adjusting as the room became clear as day, the lights off, but red. I saw red. But when I looked down, what I saw was horrendous, causing my body to tremble as a heart wrenched cry emitted from me.

There on the floor, looking at me, with wide eyes, was the boy who had forced me to drink and swallow the pills. His eyes were empty, still wide in fear as blood trickled from their nose and mouth. But it wasn't that that terrified me. No. It was his torso. His torso was the worst thing my eyes ever processed, imprinting it within my brain.

His torso had numerous long, deep cuts. Blood oozing out from them as his inner organs were visible, and some brutally ripped and pulled out, discarded to the side, slightly pulsating. A knife was beside them, covered in his fluids, and deep within the boy's torso, my hands were buried inside, clutching something warm and squishy, something that used to be alive.

The blood was warm, smelling like copper as I reeled backward, pulling my hands and pushing away, slamming my back against the bottom cupboards. With trembling hands, I raised them, my vision becoming clear and then blurred over and over again as the red substance, the boy's blood staining my hands.

I wanted to vomit, my heart throbbing as I gagged, fear building as I finally noticed the people fleeing in horror. They were petrified. They were scared of me. It was me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

"MONSTER!" A girl shrieked, running with tears in her eyes as people dropped their drinks and drugs, dashing to the front doors.

"I-I didn't mean it..." I sobbed, struggling to stand up, but my legs were too weak, wobbling, and causing me to fall onto my knees in despair and disbelief. I wanted this to be a nightmare. Let it be a nightmare, please.

"CALL THE POLICE!"

"HELP! HELP!"

"I didn't kill him... I didn't kill him," I repeated, hands clenched.

"FUCKING PSYCHO!"

"A BEAST!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I coughed. I felt lethargic, too tired to move, and too weak. I felt sick, my stomach twisting and contorting as the pounding of feet was endless until it slowly faded, disappearing. They fled in fear, leaving me with the dead body of a boy. He's dead, and I was the one who killed him. And killed him for what? For what?!

"Your fault. This is all your fault. You monster. Monster. Monster!"

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," The two words I relied on the most. But they were useless. How could saying just one phrase, the phrase "I'm sorry," fix a crime? How can it fix murder?

"Run."

"RUN!"

I don't know how or when, but I got up. I know I did because there was no one else to pull me up, no else to pull me out of my shocked state as my adrenaline kicked in, and I rushed towards the back. But I was disoriented. I couldn't tell what was left or what was right. I couldn't even run or walk in a straight line without slamming into the wall, using it to guide to the back door as I swung it open.

No one was there as I slipped, crashing onto the green grass, the cold greeting me with it's freezing arms.

"Get up and run!"

I didn't know what pushed me to continue. I don't know how I escaped that night, but I never went home. I hid in the alleyways, tucked within the darkness as my body quivered, crashing onto the concrete and unable to get up again. I laid there for hours, slipping in and out of consciousness as the boy's dead eyes and gruesome body were the only things I could see. I could only see the crime I had committed, and no one was there to assist me. I was alone. I was alone, and it was all my fault.

“He deserved it. He needed to die,”

"Seokmin?" A voice said, causing me to push up, eyes wide as I turned to look towards the person with a corrupted mind. I was vulnerable. I was . . .

"J-Jeonghan?" I asked, squinting as the male figure was distorted, making it difficult for me to decipher. But it was his voice that led me to assume that it was him. Or was I hallucinating? Was it the Xanax, the alcohol, or both?

"Look at you... Got into another mess, huh?" The male said, approaching me slowly and coming down to my level. But I was scared, flinching, and moving back.

"S-Stay away from me! A-Are you someone I know?" I said, lips quivering.

"Of course you know me, Seok. Has more than a month and few weeks made you forget what I sound and look like?" They replied, shaking their head, "It's Jeonghannie hyung, Seok. The same guy you met in Middle School during Physical Fitness and played volleyball with,"

Hesitantly, I moved forward, coming closer as my vision cleared. But it was true. Yoon Jeonghan, the very person who helped me, was sitting there in front of me, his head tilted as his long, silky platinum blonde hair gently moved along with the breeze. His skin was still pale, but not a ghostly pale, and an odd smile was on his face, his eyes soft but narrowed. But I didn't focus on it, only throwing myself on him, hugging him tightly as I sobbed uncontrollably. The pain and fear buried in my heart poured out as he held me, gently petting my head.

"I-I d-didn't mean it. I-I didn't me-mean to kill him... P-Please believe me. P-Please d-don't leave me. D-Don't tu-turn me in,"

"It's okay, Seok. I understand," Jeonghan said with a soothing voice, allowing me to bury my face into his shoulder. "You don't need to worry because I won't turn you in. I'll make sure they won't touch you. You're safe now,"

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry,"

"Shhh, I know you're sorry... But you did it to defend yourself, Seok. And I'm proud you did. I'm proud you retaliated despite the "unfortunate" outcome,"

"I don't want to take it again... I-I hate it. I hate it, hyung. I hate it," I sobbed, my grip tightening. "It's terrible. I-It still hurts. It hurts so much... Make it stop. P-Please..."

Drugs became the very thing I despise above all things.

And I hate it with a burning passion, unwavering.

Next Chapter: coming soon . . .

🥀// @yourlocal-babybear @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @seventeen-chatbot @kpop-shelter @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 @ghoulxbaekhyun @moonlit-jaemin @empress-jiaqi @time-for-confession @xash-axx @fnafnctdream-chatbot @split-jiu @artsydahyun @softdommechungha @princess-yeji @werewolf-sehun @julia-oc [DM for +/-]

#the purple rose #insane!seokmin #seokmin's chapter #chapter unlock #intoxicated #mention of drugs #drug mention #seventeen angst #seventeen dk #seventeen #svt imagines #svt au #seventeen mafia au #backstory #seventeen scenarios

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bamby0304 · 5 years ago

Text

Prom?

Summary: It’s not the prom you envisioned. It’s so much more, all thanks to Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This is for the High School AU square on my @spnkinkbingo card. I just wanna apologise for my absence as of late. I had a family member in the hospital, then I became a part-time carer, then uni started, then I got kicked out of home, and now I'm a part-time carer for someone terminally ill. I've been super busy and not in the right head space to write. But I managed to put this together... hope you enjoy xx

Kink Square Filled: High School AU

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Angst. Fluff. Implied smut.

Bamby

You really shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like you were Lisa Braeden, the most popular girl in school. It’s not like you were one of those girls. You weren’t the kind of girl to have people crushing on her. You just weren’t the kind of girl who got asked out on dates… or to prom.

Despite knowing you weren’t that kind of girl, you’d still hoped. For months, while the school had been eagerly preparing for the date, you’d been waiting, hoping, praying for someone to ask you out.

Thing is… you really, honestly, absolutely shouldn’t have expected anything. You were the loner. The girl who sat on the library floor during lunch, writing in your journal or flicking through whichever book caught your fancy that day. You didn’t really have friends, more acquaintances than anything, and most of them felt like pity relationships. You wondered if anyone actually really liked you.

Benny and Dean were the closest things you had two friends, but that’s only because Dean had been partnered with you in chemistry because he and Benny wouldn’t quit messing around in the back row. You’d expected him to whine that he’d been forced to spend time with someone like you, seeing as he was one of the most popular guys in your grade, but it turns out he was a super nice guy.

After that class you found Dean spoke to you more than usual. To the point where he’d come and found you in the library during lunch a few times. It was three weeks ago when he last found you, glaring at a prom poster.

“Hey Bookworm. You find another grammar mistake?” he’d asked as he came to stand beside you.

“No. Just wish they didn’t have to be so in your face about the whole thing,” you’d huffed.

Dean had watched you, confused, before asking, “In your face about what? Prom? Do you hate it or something?”

“Or something,” you’d mumbled, turning your back to the poster and him to go find a corner to sit in. Dean, of course, had followed, waiting patiently for an explanation. “No one has asked me to go,” you noted, a bite to your tone.

“You want to go?” He genuinely sounded surprised.

“Why is that so surprising? Besides, it’s our last one.”

“It’s just… it’s prom. It’s boring. It’s puffy dresses and ugly corsages. It’s limos and pop music. It’s spiked punch and bland food. It’s uncomfortable, and boring, and overrated.”

You turned to him, raising an accusing eyebrow. “Didn’t you get prom king last year?”

“That’s not my point. I didn’t want to go. That was all Lisa.” The glare he gave was a lot like the one you’d given to the poster earlier. “Look, trust me, you’re not gonna miss anything if you don’t go. Hell, you can hang with Benny and me instead if you want. We’re gonna go bowling.”

“Bowling?” You shook your head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not giving up hope on prom. I’m still going. Someone will ask me.”

No one asked you.

Dressed in a royal green gown that had cost you three paychecks, wearing the most uncomfortable heels in the world, with more hairpins in your hair than in a salon… you sat in the motel foyer by yourself. The place was dying down, most people either in one of the several rooms hosting after-parties, or back at home in their beds. You sat on the steps, well aware that you kept getting in guests’ way, but you didn’t care. Elbows on your knees and head in your hands, you pouted down at the ground as you recalled the awful night you’d had.

“Hey, Bookworm.”

Slowly, you dragged your eyes up and found yourself looking at none other than Dean Winchester.

You looked him up and down, taking in the bouquet of roses in his hand. “Hi?”

“So Benny and I went bowling,” he started, taking a step closer to you. “And apparently I wouldn’t stop talking about you, ‘cause Benny had to tell me to shut up.” He grinned, a little blush in his cheeks. “I was just really mad that no one had asked you to prom. You know what he said then?”

You shook your head, a little intrigued but still mostly confused.

“He said I’m an idiot. That I should’ve asked you. That I should’ve sucked it up, dealt with the prom crap, and just gone. That I should’ve done it for you.”

“Why would you do that?”

He chuckled. “Because, Bookworm, I’m crushing on you hard, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes grew wide. “What?”

Lips pulled into an amused grin, he started up the stairs. “Been crushing on you since Mr Turner had me sit with you that day in chemistry. Why else would I go to the library during lunch?”

“I just thought you were doing homework or something.”

He laughed, a full belly laugh. “When have I ever done homework. We’ve been in the same classes since we couldn’t spell our own names. I’m the lazy one, remember.”

“It’s all an act, though. You’re a smart guy, Dean,” you argued.

“Not saying differently, just don’t want the world to know.” He winked. “Pretty hard to hide stuff like that from the class wallflower though, huh Bookworm? You’re always observing, taking in everything. People don’t notice you, but you’re everywhere. Always there. They’ve just got their heads stuck up their own asses to notice. But I noticed, and I like what I see. I like you. So…” he came to stop on the step in front of you and offered his free hand, “will you go to prom with me?”

“Prom is over, Dean.”

“Afterparty isn’t,” he noted, still grinning that cheeky grin of his.

A smile of your own crept onto your lips before you reached up and took his hand, letting him help you to your feet.

…

Going to one of the after-parties felt weird. Going to one of the afterparties with Dean Winchester was like stepping into a whole new world.

He kept his hand in yours as he meandered through the room, greeting everyone who came up to see him. Literally everyone came up to him, slapping his chest, giving half hugs, just saying ‘hi’. It was like he was a superstar or something, surrounded by dozens of fans.

No one really paid you any attention, but you didn’t mind. All that mattered was how Dean’s hand remained in yours. Every now and then he’d look back at you, making sure you were okay, offering that charming grin or a sweet smile.

Once he’d done the rounds and greeted everyone, the two of you found yourself in the middle of the room, in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. You moved together, dancing and smiling and laughing to the crappy pop music someone had blaring from a speaker somewhere in the room.

As the night continued to roll by, Dean did everything to make sure you were having the time of your life. By the time things started to die down, you were a buzz, full of an excitement you’d never felt before.

With his hand in yours again, you and Dean hurried out of the hotel room and down the corridors. You were laughing like the teenagers you were, giggling as you slammed your hand on the elevator button. Dean’s arms wrapped around your waist as he swayed you in the hallway, moving to music that your body still felt but ear could no longer hear.

The elevator opened and the two of you slipped inside. You leaned on the opposite side to him, chest heaving from laughter, cheeks burning from smiling so much. He was watching you, that happy and amused look still in his eyes. Only there was something else there now, too. Something that surprised you. Something that had your heart skipping a beat once more.

Reaching the ground floor, Dean grabbed your hand and rushed the two of you through the foyer. Pushing through the doors, you were met by the cool night’s air. Your eyes closed as you breathed in deeply, barely having a second before Dean was dragging you along again.

Still laughing and giggling, you let him lead you to the parking lot. The two of you jogged and skipped to the back of the lot where you found his car. You didn’t get a moment to appreciate the well known Winchester Impala before Dean was opening the door for you.

Giving a little curtsy, you smiled up at him. “Why thank you kind sure.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He bowed in returned. When he stood again you spotted that grin on his, firmly in place.

Slipping into the car, you shifted and waited as he hurried around to his side before getting in and turning the ignition on.

“So…” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, “I guess this is the time I take you home.”

Watching him, you could see the hesitation, the slight disappointment. The two fo you had been having such a great time, you really didn’t want it to end so suddenly. It felt like you’d barely had any time together. It was like you were being cheated out of a good night, not just a good time.

“Hey, Dean?”

He turned to you with a simple hum. “Mmm?”

“My parents aren’t expecting me home tonight… if you want… we could… get some cheeseburgers?”

“God, you’re perfect.” Leaning in, he caught you by surprise as his lips pressed against yours.

It took a second before you caught up to reality. Dean began to pull back but you quickly grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He groaned against you, turning in his seat until he was leaning over you, one hand on the door behind you as the other wrapped around your waist.

Pulling away, slightly out of breath, his eyes locked onto yours. “If we don’t stop…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop.”

The surprise in his eyes would have made you laugh if you were so flushed and warm.

Reaching up, you tugged on his jacket. “Make this the perfect prom night, Dean Winchester.”

Not needing to be told again, he leaned in once more, claiming your lips with his in a kiss that pulled the breath right out of your lungs.

Bamby

#spnkinkbingo #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #bamby's spnkinkbingo #prom?

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three-drink-amy · 6 years ago

Text

Sweet Creature

Claire and Jamie have been best friends since they met at university. When Claire decided to leave medical school to pursue her dreams, Jamie was the first to support her. Five years later, they’re still best friends. But two conflicts stand poised to hurt their friendship: Jamie’s stake in her business and Claire’s secret enduring love for him.

Chapter One

The bell dinged, signaling the arrival of a late customer. Claire rolled her eyes, wishing more than anything that she could close the store and get home quickly. She plastered on a fake smile and walked out to greet the new guest. A sigh of relief echoed through the mostly empty room when she saw who it was.

“Oh thank god, it’s just you.”

“Just me?” Jamie teased. “I’m so flattered, Sassenach.”

Claire scoffed, walking past him to turn the “Open” sign to “Closed.” “You know what I mean. I was afraid it was the type of person who comes in two minutes before closing time and wants the world.”

“Jerks.”

Claire paused and watched Jamie for a moment. “Yes, in fact, they are.” She started walking back behind the counter and into the kitchen. “Come on. If you’re here, you might as well help me.”

Jamie shrugged. “Very well.” He rolled back the sleeves of his button down shirt and prepared himself to help Claire close down the bakery. She’d allowed most of the employees to leave a few minutes earlier. On days like that day, she liked to take the time to close things down on her own. It reminded her of how it was in the beginning.

It had been 5 years since she opened her bakery, Sassenach Sweets. The name had been inspired by Jamie’s nickname for her. Really, it was a way to thank him. She had been in the trenches of medical school and hating it. After many tearful conversations over pizza and beer, Jamie told Claire to pursue her dreams and do what she really wanted to do. And what she really wanted to do was bake. Knowing she could never own her own bakery, Claire gave up hope pretty quickly. But fate, and then Jamie, had other plans. He’d been on a spur of the moment trip with his brother-in-law to New York City when he bought a lottery ticket as a joke and then won. 3.5 million dollars had completely changed Jamie’s life. And then he changed Claire’s. He gave her the money she needed to start her own bakery, including funds for the store and equipment. Achieving her dreams had all come down to his generosity and support. It was something she never forgot.

Glasgow had apparently been the perfect place to open Sassenach Sweets. Within two years, Claire was opening a second store on the other side of town, due to high demand. There were many days she still couldn’t believe she’d actually followed her dreams, and more than that, that she’d succeeded.

“What brought you by?” Claire asked as she stood at the sink, washing pans.

“Eh, I was just thinking about ye,” Jamie replied vaguely.

Claire looked over at him as he scrubbed at a baking sheet. “Why?” She asked, her eyes narrowing.

A small smirk bloomed on Jamie’s face. “I ran into someone ye ken.”

“Oh god. Who?”

“Frank,” Jamie confessed.

“Where on earth would you run into Frank?” Claire wondered.

“Apparently, we go to the same barber.”

“Hmmm. I wonder how that never came up in all that time,” Claire mused.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Tis no’ as though the man was ever fond of me. Ye may recall that he often avoided interactions with me.”

“To be fair, you did as well,” Claire reminded him.

“I at least tried. He was yer man and I wanted to give him a chance. He canna say the same,” Jamie defended.

“He was just crappy all around.”

Jamie looked over at Claire and watched her for a moment. “Ye ken ye never told me the true reason why ye left Frank.”

“What? Yes I have!”

“No, no’ really,” he insisted. “Ye said it just wasna working out. Tha’s no’ a real reason.”

Claire breathed out a sigh. “Frank had this great idea that he was going to manage the bakery for me so that I could focus on big picture stuff. But he never really seemed to care about me or what I wanted. It just always seemed like he wanted to be able to claim some of the success. And I wasn’t having that. I did this on my own. Well, aside from you.”

Jamie interrupted her. “Nah, ye did it on yer own.”

Claire smiled to herself. “Okay, well anyway, it was right around the time that I was working out the logistics of opening the second store and he wanted a piece of it. I didn’t really have the time for a relationship and I didn’t want to be with someone who only wanted me for my success. So I ended things.”

Jamie nodded. “Well, I still say, good for ye.”

Claire laughed. “Thanks, I suppose. It’s been quite a while now.”

“He still asked about ye,” Jamie informed her.

“Oh Lord. What did you say?”

“I was spending so much time trying to decide if I wanted to make up some story about ye finding some handsome, rich man or talk about yer massive success and in the time it took me to decide, he started talking about himself,” Jamie recalled.

Claire snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“Aye, I thought so as well. Ye were far too good for him, Sassenach.”

She looked over at him with a smile. “Thanks,” she said softly.

They worked in silence for a bit. Jamie assured her that he could handle washing dishes while she disassembled machines and put away the leftover pastries. Tomorrow they’d go to the homeless shelter a few blocks away. Day old pastries didn’t sell and Claire refused to waste them. Every morning on her way to work, she’d drop off the left overs from the day before.

Jamie was the first one to break the silence. “So did I tell ye about the new lass at work?”

Claire shook her head. “No. I believe the last one you mentioned was Laoghaire and that crashed and burned pretty quickly.”

“Oh, aye, and for a good reason,” Jamie remembered with a shiver. “Anyway, there’s this new lass at the office. She’s French.”

“Did St. Germain bring her on?”

“Aye, he did. Recruited her himself apparently,” Jamie confirmed.

“And the fact that your boss that you hate approves of her doesn’t deter you at all?” Claire asked with a raised brow.

“Perhaps it should. But she’s just...mesmerizing. She’s tall and blonde. She’s beautiful. I find myself staring out the door of my office just to see if she’ll walk by,” Jamie told her, a far-off look in his eyes.

“Well, she sounds special,” Claire replied with an almost flat expression. “What’s the girl’s name?”

Jamie smiled. “Annalise.”

Claire nodded to herself, focusing on the task at hand. “So how many days are you betting it’ll take before you get her to go out with you?”

Jamie shrugged. “I canna say. She’s been rebuffing me a bit. So I thought I’d call in a favor.”

“A favor, hmm?” Claire asked. She knew just where he was going with this.

“Ye ken how sometimes ye’ll prepare those wee baskets of yer treats and I take them into the office?” Claire nodded. “Well I was wondering if ye’d be able to do that for me. Soon, perhaps.”

Claire sighed. “Fine. But you have to promise that John will get at least one of them. He’d kill me if he didn’t.”

Jamie laughed, his head tilting back. “But of course!” He walked over to Claire and wrapped her in a hug. “Ye’re the best, Sassenach.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He pulled back and looked at her. “I mean it. Ye’re a wonderful friend. And the best investment I ever made.”

A reluctant smile crossed Claire’s face. Even if it was silly, she always found it a bit endearing when Jamie referred to her as his investment. He was the only one who’d ever helped her with the bakery who’d never asked for something back. And it was the only way their friendship had prevailed. He gave her the money, ignoring her demands that he keep it, and told her to follow her dreams. She’d toss ideas back and forth with him as a way of keeping him in the loop as an investor. Each time, he’d simply say her vision was perfect.

The constant reminder of his part in helping her was what always got her to agree to his crazy ideas, like pastry baskets for his office. She didn’t mind and would never make him pay, but it wasn’t as though her time was endless.

It was two days later, after closing time that Joe keyed into the store to visit with Claire. She was laying croissant dough on a pan, ready to put them in the oven. “I thought it was after close. You don’t usually start this part this early.”

“I’m making a pastry basket for Jamie’s work,” she told him.

“Oh. I always love when you do that for me too,” Joe said with a smirk.

“You men. One at a time, please,” she laughed.

“No worries. It’s a hospital. People bring food in all the time,” Joe admitted.

Joe and Claire had met in their first year of medical school. They’d quickly become very good friends, bonding over being some of the only non-scots in their program. Joe had continued on and become a doctor after Claire had dropped out to open the bakery. Aside from some light teasing, Joe had been nothing but supportive of Claire’s choice to change paths. Joe and Jamie had carried her emotionally (and occasionally physically) through the process of starting her own business and making it grow. She often wondered where she’d be without the both of them. The little baskets were usually a thank you when they weren’t serving as shameless self promotion.

“So how was the hospital today?” Claire asked.

“Kinda boring, actually,” Joe admitted. “What about the bakery?”

“Well it’s an hour after close and I’m working on more food,” Claire stated, pointing to the pan in front of her. “It’s not a normal day.”

“Why are you doing this one?”

“Jamie asked for it. He needs to impress some girl at work apparently,” Claire said with a mild scoff.

Joe sat down on a bar stool across from her. “And how does that make you feel?”

Claire’s head snapped up to look at Joe. “Excuse me?” Joe simply raised one eyebrow, his gaze still trained on her. “Why would that make me feel any sort of way?”

“Perhaps because of your feelings.”

Claire burst out laughing. “I don’t have feelings for Jamie.”

Joe leaned forward on the prep table. “Lady Jane, come on. You told me you did!”

“That was in medical school which was a long time ago,” Claire reminded him. “Also, I was drunk. A lot has happened since then. Whatever feelings I was having for Jamie were shut down the minute he became an investor in my company. Business leaves no room for feelings.”

“Mmhmm. Sure.” Claire glared at her friend. “Look, all I’m saying is that I saw the way you used to look at him. And I see the way you look at him now. Not much has changed.”

Claire was silent as she placed the pan of pastries in the oven. She walked back over and looked at Joe. “You’re right in a way. Things haven’t changed all that much. Jamie still pursues women like they’re a dying commodity. And I’m still never one of them. So, you’re right in that way.”

Joe frowned, looking down at his hands. “You don’t have to do everything he asks you to do.”

“He’s my friend and I want to,” Claire insisted.

“Can you tell me the truth?” Joe pushed.

Claire sighed, leaning against the table to match Joe’s pose. “I fell for Jamie nearly the moment I met him. I hated being the silly girl in love with her best friend. It was such a cliche. But I couldn’t help it. You’ve met him. You know he’s sweet and has a charm about him. But when he gave me the money to start this, I was determined to shut it all down. Two things complicate friendships like nothing else: feelings and money. We already had the money complication. I wouldn’t be the one to push it a step further and admit my feelings. So I was determined to ignore them. Bury them. Date other people. Throw myself into work. And that’s what I’ve done.”

Joe watched her for a long moment. “And?”

Claire sighed, throwing herself down on a barstool, her head in her hands. “And it hasn’t made a bit of difference.”

She glanced up at Joe with a helpless look on her face.

“I’m still in love with him.”

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing #sweet creature

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years ago

Text

Lie to Me (Ch. 21 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1300

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, long may they reign

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity, @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany , @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings, @lokis-butter-knife, @help-i-need-a-social-life, @vodka-and-some-sass

WARNING: mentions of PTSD and anxiety

“And are you still visiting Mr. Laufeyson?”

Shifting uncomfortably on a leather couch, you twist your nose in effort to keep a look of derision off of your face. This is your umpteenth SHIELD mandated therapy visit due to your ‘incident,’ but the therapist in question never seems to get any less annoying. “He isn’t- Mr. Laufeyson.” That sounds absolutely ridiculous. “He’s just Loki.”

“Very well.” The blonde coiffed woman sitting across from you concedes the point. “Are you still visiting… Loki?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Her question utterly mystifies you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It wouldn’t be unusual for persons related to your accident to be triggering.”

“He wasn’t- he rescued me, it’s not like he’s going to set me off.” You glance down at your hands, which are weaving your fingers in and out of complicated patterns. Nervous habit. You’ve developed a lot of those, recently. You’re always nervous, now. “He helps the fear be… not as much,” you say quietly, mostly to yourself, though you know she can hear you.

“I see.” She writes down a few notes in a shorthand you can’t read- you’ve tried, several times. Is this how Loki feels on the other side of the glass? You don’t know how he’s able to stand it. “And how are you healing?”

Raising an eyebrow, you cast a look at the boot encasing your lower leg. “Peachy,” you say drily. “The doctors said the scars shouldn’t even scar.”

Apparently, being immune to sarcasm is in the job requirement for SHIELD therapists. “And emotionally?”

That’s… more complicated. You can deal with the shattered ankle, the newly forming ridges along your back, the bruises fading to ugly, mottled colors. What you aren’t dealing with is the trauma. The anxiety. The constant urge to scream and claw every last hair off of your head. How you check back over your shoulder so much you forget to look where you’re going; how you’ve gotten to know the shadows that crawl across your ceiling at 2AM very, very intimately because sleep only brings the reopening of healing wounds.

But if you say any of this, she’ll ask about it; and if she asks about it, you’ll have to tell her about it; and if you do that… you’ll be late to see Loki. And so you put on your best Trickster-approved poker face and say simply, “I’m fine.”

XXX

It’s very odd seeing Loki back in his cell, given everything that’s happened. If you squint hard and ignore your broken-to-bits body, it’s almost like nothing ever occurred. No kidnapping. No torture. No… whatever came after that. It’s all hazy in your mind, until waking up in the hospital bed becomes achingly sharp.

“Witling.”

“Trickster.” You hobble in and give him a small smile, moving right past your desk in favor of sitting with your back perched up against the glass. It’s become habit since the incident- the closer you are to him, the less your hands tend to shake, and the more at ease your heart feels.

“You’re late.”

“What, you got somewhere else to be?” Loki rolls his eyes as you settle onto the floor, hauling your casted leg into a semi-comfortable position. “Sorry, therapist lady got all caught up talking about my feels today.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“How are you feeling?”

For some reason, when he’s the one asking, you always answer honestly- and it has nothing to do with him being able to see through your lies. “Tired,” you admit in a small voice. “Sleep is hard. I keep seeing weird things.”

He gets up and mirrors your pose on the floor, so the two of you are reflected back-to-back. “Such as?”

Your eyes close, trying to remember. “It’s dark. I hear a gun go off, that must have been mine – god, I still can’t believe I shot you, I’m so sorry- but then there’s light, everywhere, in all sorts of colors I don’t think I even have a name for.” A lump forms in your throat as you remember the rainbow swirling around you. “A lot of gold, and blue, and green. Nothing tangible. And a voice.” It’s soft and warm, like being wrapped in all your best blankets, and more comforting than thumbing through the worn pages of your favorite novel. You seem to care quite a lot for my son. “I don’t know her, but I think- I know she was lovely.”

All of this sounds perfectly ridiculous, of course, but you’re not embarrassed. Not with him. “You were quite critical, darling. It is understandable your mind would… wander.”

“I guess.” You try to cast yourself back to your capture- something you can only do with Loki or sometimes Thor nearby, otherwise you just become an incoherent mess- and comb through what memories you do have, trying to see if there’s anything you’ve missed. Bits and pieces have filtered through over time, but it’s like you’re watching it all from third-person. “How exactly did you find me?” He’s been silent in this point every time you’ve asked, but you keep pestering him about it nonetheless.

“You-” there’s a pause, and you glance around to see what’s the matter. The god won’t look at you; his gaze is focused on the wall across from him. “You prayed to me. I could hear your thoughts, and trace your approximate location from them.”

Loki Laufeyson, son of Odin, Prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim

Your voice echoes in your head, speaking words you don’t remember saying but sounding incredibly familiar all the same. “I did,” you whisper. “And… that worked?”

“Indeed.”

You let out a breath. “What did I say? I don’t remember much.”

“Mmm.” You can hear the wheels turning in his head. “I am not sure I heard it all. I was rather distracted on locating you. But I am fairly sure you identified me as ‘a royal pain in my ass’.”

There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that makes you smile. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“You said… you said a prince is still a prince, no matter where he should come from.”

“Damn, that’s poetry right there. Imagine what I could come up with when I’m not bleeding internally.”

Loki gives a sigh that says please, don’t remind me. “That Thor loves me, and my mother does as well.”

“Both true statements.”

“And that I am nothing like you expected.”

You snort. “That’s for dang sure.” As he paraphrases your words, your own waver in and out of memory. You aren’t anything like I expected, but I’m glad you’re not. “Did I say something else? I feel like…”

“By that time I was close enough to reach you; my mind was solely on that purpose.”

‘cause I don’t think I’d love you nearly as much if you were

Your last thoughts slam through your body like a tidal wave. Had you… had you really said that you loved him?

Had he heard you?

“You sure that’s it?”

“Quite. Insomuch that I recall.” Now he does turn your way, concern in his eyes. “Is everything alright? I did not mean to upset you.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you reassure him. “It’s not you.” It’s just that I said I loved you with my dying breaths. And I’m pretty sure I meant it. “I’m, um… just trying to process, is all.”

Despite your crappy dismissal, his gaze doesn’t leave face. You can feel his eyes capture every emotion walking across your own; cataloguing them, testing their weight, seeing what he can sift through and what to leave alone. It’s a look of such overwhelming tenderness and thoughtfulness you wish you could shatter the glass between you, just to kiss that look off his face and see if it tastes as sweet as it feels.

Yeah. Yeah, I definitely meant it.

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trulisthetic · 5 years ago

Photo

Hey you.

So yesterday I found the folder of pics from Samos. And today I dug up a few more, and this post happened. Not that it’s something big. I wish I could give you a real present today.

Anyway.

It took me forever to decide what to write on this post, I mean 1) we’ve been through some crazy crap and 2) I didn’t know what was appropriate for a facebook post cause your parents might see it or something. But then I decided to post this here so that we would be among strangers, and my hands were untied. Quite literally untied, because it means that I have to write this in English, and you know how much better I can express myself this way. Unfortunately, I get extra extra when I speak in English. So be prepared, this is about to get real sappy real quick.

You are my sunshine. (Yup. I meant REAL sappy, REAL quick.) But dude, you ARE. Every time we’re in the same room, it’s like I instantly light up, like I turn into the most dorky and quirky version of me. It’s just so fun, so honestly fun. I don’t wanna say that you’re the most optimistic person, cause sometimes you’re not, but despite that -and I don’t know how to explain this exactly- but you make everything seem more happy, and more fun, and infinite times more colorful, and I honestly have no idea how you do it, but it just happens. And for some reason it makes sense, too. Like, of course you would make everything brighter. It’s you.

One of my earliest memories of you is us walking our dogs together at the park and being so awkward around each other. And then we had our first sleepover and I remember snuggling against you and squealing in delight that we went passed the awkward stage, and you asked Erik “Is she usually like this?” and he was like “Yup”. I remember us acting together, and how funny it was to see you on stage wearing my stockings and OMG when I forgot my lines during our scene and we laughed our way through it! Or when I kissed you at rehearsal and you set it was wet - which by the way, it wasn’t. You’re just too gay for this world, so suck it (that’s what she said! Hehehe). And all those times we improved together, my personal favorites being the sheep-shepherd one, and the Pier-Chloe one (“I’M GAY!” XDXD ). I also had so much fun that time we went out at the school dance and got lots of different drinks to try, and then danced all night- and I don’t know if you remember this but you stepped on me and said “Oh my God, honey, I’m so sorry!” and then literally bent down to hug my waist. Which was like, the softest thing I’ve experienced.... and then you fell asleep on my shoulder at the buss stop, and it became the second softest. You’re such a precious being. Bonus moments, New Years Eve that one time was pretty great, or the afterparty of Jordan at Pezodromos. Also when you guys surprised me for my birthday, both times (with the picture frames, and the guinea pig. best presents ever). And that time you got me that purple candle just because “you saw it and it reminded you of me”. And that time we went to that gay club with the bananas everywhere. And that time we dressed up sexy and instead of going out we sat inside and drank vodka and watched gay porn... and then Adam recorded the entire phonecall of you getting home (tell me we still have that!) and I slept over and hit on her. Such fun. And while we’re on the subject, you know what I realized the other day? That you are a gay guy and I am a straight girl - and yet we have kissed each other, and I have also kissed your ex girlfriend. So that’s also fun.

Your birthday last year was the BEST, coolest ever. Even though I don’t remember, like, half of it. I’m sorry I don’t remember you blowing the candles. I’m also sorry that I put vodka in your dorky friend’s wine, and that I -apparently- smudged chocolate cake on your door... and nothing else. I also loved that time we won two stuffed animals playing the claw and were so elated about it. And all the times we just cuddled on the couch and watched shitty stuff, and you played with me or Adam’s hair. That time we ate oregano chips and played charades of the movies we watched together and stuff... or when we were all bawling our eyes out at Leonardo DiCaprio drowning. All the times we played Pes To Me at the park, all the times we went out and ate together, or I cooked my crappy toasts for you. Samos. All of it. Even though thinking about Erik now makes me sad, Samos is where I really got to know you best, and I’m forever grateful for that. Remember that sunset on the picture above? How I wanted to stay on the port and watch it, but you wanted to go back because there was a hot guy with a skateboard? Well, you asshole, I could care less about the sun or the colors of the sky. I just wanted to stay there for as long as I could, because it was just us, the waves, your favorite music playing, my head on your lap and your fingers in my hair. Which I realize sounds pretty romantic, but you get how I mean it. It was me and you. And I think that is my favorite memory with you, believe it or not. That sunset you couldn’t wait to run away from 😂😂

There are times... that you don’t speak that highly of yourself. You say you’re not smart enough, or not pretty enough, or not funny enough, never enough. I don’t know what this “enough” means. All I know is that my life would be way darker without you. I’d have missed so damn much. And this past year that we don’t hang out as much, I still have all those memories to recall and be thankful for, you know? And then, everyday stuff happens and I find myself thinking “Oh, he would love that” or “he does that too”. You’re kinda still with me. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my best friend.

Still. I miss having fun with you. And I miss you.

So, happy, happy, HAPPY birthday!

Η αλήθεια είναι ότι όταν ενθουσιάζομαι λέω σε πολλούς ότι τους αγαπάω. Αλλά εσύ είσαι από τους λίγους που το εννοώ.

#thank you for everything

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