#that being said until that point I am still taking requests at the same donation thresholds😊
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da3drat ¡ 10 months ago
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Once I finish this round of commissions and also the Meri outfit requests in my inbox (I didnt forget about them I’m so sorry thank you for sending them I’m so behind😆) I’m gonna start doing horse studies so I can draw Celeste and Fjora. For a certified card holding horse girl I really do not have enough art of Celeste doing horse girl things.
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erodasfishtacos ¡ 3 years ago
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how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?
Seperation
prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.
warnings: angst
if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!
I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.
enjoy 😊
—
It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.
Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.
Ezra was another story.
YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.
He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).
It was at night time.
She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.
When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.
Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.
“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.
YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.
At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.
When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.
She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.
It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.
YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.
It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”
“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.
“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.
That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.
“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.
“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.
“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”
The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.
“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”
“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.
“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”
Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.
“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.
“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”
YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.
“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.
“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”
The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”
They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.
“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.
“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.
“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”
“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.
Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”
YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.
“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”
“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.
“Daddy, daddy, come on.”
Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”
And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.
“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”
And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.
In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.
Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.
He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.
“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.
Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.
At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.
She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.
By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.
The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“
He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”
“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”
Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.
“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.
Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”
“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.
“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“
“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.
“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“
“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.
Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.
He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.
“Please, let me apologize-“
“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.
They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.
He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.
-
He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.
Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.
Ezra must still be in bed.
“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.
“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.
“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.
Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”
“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme
“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.
“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”
Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”
He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”
-
Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.
Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.
Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.
She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”
The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.
YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.
Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.
Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.
“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.
Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.
Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.
Just like before.
“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.
Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.
“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.
“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.
“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.
Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”
YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”
He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”
“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.
“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.
You were letting him suffer.
YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?
“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“
His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.
Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.
He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.
It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.
He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.
-
Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.
He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.
“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.
“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.
“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.
“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.
Harry nearly whimpers.
“Baby, please. We need to talk-“
“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”
Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.
“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.
She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”
Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.
“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.
“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.
“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.
“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.
The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”
Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.
He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.
“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”
“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.
Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.
“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.
“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.
-
Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.
YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***
Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.
“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.
He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”
-
The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.
When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.
Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”
“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”
Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”
YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”
Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”
He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”
YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.
“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.
“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.
“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.
“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.
-
Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.
Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.
As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”
They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”
“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.
The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.
How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.
Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.
She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.
Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.
By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.
“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.
“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.
-
That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.
Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.
When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.
They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.
And yeah, everything is okay after that.
They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.
(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)
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heloisedaphnebrightmore ¡ 4 years ago
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All your fault [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested
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Title: All your fault Pairing: Sirius Black x Gryffindor!Reader Word count: 1.9k Published: 16 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Sirius’ boredom causes you to end up in detention. Or so you think, but he has a different perspective on the events and you clearly can’t find the golden middle. Request: [x] I have combined two requests. One from Tumblr and one from Wattpad. I took the liberty to change some things, but overall it’s the same. 
“Hey Talented! Could you write a Sirius x Gryffindor!reader where the reader is jock with intense emotions and a chaser in Quidditch team? Also Is exceptionally talented at DADA and that make sirius jealous and turned-on too? please?” - @marauders-hogwarts​​ 
“Hey, I was just reading your marauders x reader one shots and I had an idea for one. Could you pls make one where Sirius gets into an argument with you and at the end grabs your hand to turn you around and abruptly smashes his lips against yours and asks you to be his girl. And the next day he comes up to you and tell you that ther is something wrong with your hand untill he picks it up and puts his own hand in yours and says that's better. Please? Thanks so much. I am a huge fan of your work.” - @Tamarakyra [Wattpad]
Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists
If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3
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Sirius Black had never been one to question things. He was very stubborn much to his professors’ dismay. Doing what he wanted regardless of consequences has become his personal motto. Swaying him seemed impossible, he always knew what he wanted, how he wanted it and when he wanted it.
However, on a rainy dull Saturday afternoon as he was watching you up in the air, flying across the quidditch pitch on your broomstick, your hair flat against your face, your uniform drenched in water, your eyes covered with a pair of goggles, something has changed within him. For a mere moment he felt as if time had stopped as you screamed at James for not being able to catch the snitch and win against Ravenclaw. His eyes focused only on you, even forgetting about the ongoing match.
The way you sat on your broomstick leaning forward to speed up, the way you tucked the quaffle under your arm and secured it, the sheer amount of energy you projected and the bold tone you used against his best friend all hit him right in the chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bench of the bleachers. He didn’t know where his sudden feelings came from, but the unexpected warmness filling him up from the inside made him smile at the simple sight of you. From then on, he knew the friendship you had has become more on his side.
You sat right beside Sirius at Defence Against the Dark Arts, doodling on the parchment in front of you as he kept nudging you, trying to get your attention.
“What now?” you asked for the 10th time in the past 10 minutes. “Perhaps you could focus more on the lesson. You need it more than I do,” you hissed angrily, feeling fed up with his childish behaviour.
“I’m bored,” he whined in a silent whisper.
“I can see that,” you scoffed as you drew another random pattern on your paper. Closing out the lesson, you focused completely on your drawing, finding it more interesting than whatever your professor was talking about. That was until Sirius started nudging you again.
“What now?” you hissed in anger, slightly raising your voice, but you quickly silenced yourself as you looked around, every pair of eyes focusing on you, including your professor’s. “I’m so sorry,” you apologised, hunching your back, trying to hide away from embarrassment.
“Since you have already graced us with your attention, why don’t you answer the question?” he asked in a pompous tone, clearly trying to make you feel even more awkward. However, as the new teacher, he couldn’t have known about your exceptional knowledge and talent on the subject. It took you a good second to recall the memory from the darkest and deepest part of your mind, before you were ready to answer.
“The Tongue-tying curse prevents people from being able to form a coherent sentence, therefore stopping them from being able to incantate further spells. Although Langlock its sibling curse also prevents people from being able to speak, in this spell’s case the tongue sticks to the roof of the mouth, whilst when using Silencio it causes the victim to be temporarily muted,” you explained proudly. The professor didn’t compliment you, nor did he scold you. He offered you a deadpan expression and cleared his throat.
Sirius snickered beside you with a proud grin across his face, knowing the professor didn’t expect your reply. Years ago, he would have told you off for being a know it all, but now he found it comical. He didn’t know if it was because his feelings had changed or because it was you who did it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You could have done anything and he would have supported you like a loyal puppy. At times he couldn’t even believe how easily affected he was by you.
“Khm- smartass,” you heard a cough from the side as Evan Rosier was trying to cover his words in an obvious manner. You were not one to let others walk over you nor did you plan to be one in that moment. You felt anger bubbling up inside you, the boy’s mere presence irritating you.
“Let me show the spell in practice, professor,” you grinned proudly as he turned around with a shocked expression across his face, ready to stop you in mid-spell. However, he was slower than he wished to be and before he could have said anything, the word left your lips. “Silencio,” you lifted your hand and pointed your wand at the boy, watching as he grabbed his throat, desperately trying to speak, gaping like a fish, but no words leaving his mouth.
Sirius watched as the scenario unfolded in front of him. His initial surprise quickly disappeared as he saw a smirk appear across your face, pure pride taking over your stance. He always admired your can-do attitude and bold personality, possibly one of the reasons you have been such good friends. He wasn’t lacking any of those personality traits, but when he saw you standing up for yourself, being strong and independent, it just drove him crazy. It made him feel like there was an invisible string between the two of you, pulling him closer and closer to you.
Since he realised his own feelings for you, he was watching every little move of yours, trying to protect you from everything and anything that could possibly hurt you. But before he could ever intervene and show you how much he cared for you, you took care of it, proving once again how independent you were. He didn’t mind though, he loved the strength you harboured, he just wished to be able to show you that you could rely on him.
You watched as the professor rushed up to Rosier, pulling his wand out of the inner pocket of his robe and quickly using the counter spell on him, before rushing up to your table, his index finger pointing right between your eyes. “Detention! How dare you? Detention after classes!” he shouted at you, veins popping on the side of his neck and temple, his face turning red in anger. If he had time, he would have probably embarrassed you in front of the whole class, but as the bell rang, indicating the end of your class, he had no choice, but to let you go.
Quickly collecting your belongings, you hurried out of the classroom with Sirius right behind you, calling your name relentlessly as you were about to cross the Courtyard.
“What do you want?” you asked angrily as you halted. You didn’t want to sound rude, being around Sirius was the highlight of your day, but at that moment he was a pain in your backside.
“Woah, calm down,” he gestured with his hands, but if anything, it made you angrier.
“Calm down? Calm down? It was all your fault to begin with. If you didn’t nag me about being bored, I would have kept drawing and kept my mouth shut. But you just couldn’t find anything better to do so you decided to get on my nerves and now of course it’s me who has to go to detention,” you rambled, annoyed, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.
“Okay, I accept that I was nagging you, but I didn’t curse my classmate,” he scoffed with a hidden smile in the corner of his lips.
“It’s not funny! If you didn’t nag me, the professor wouldn’t have questioned me, which means Rosier would have never insulted me, hence the reason you are at fault,” you groaned as you turned around and started walking away.
“Hey, stop already,” he whined, but you didn’t halt your steps, if anything, you sped up. “I’m sorry,” he tried to break the ice, but it seemed to just fire you up even more. You turned on your heel, stopping right in front of the boy.
“Sorry? That’s it? You just have to say sorry and I’m supposed to forget about it?” you scoffed in disbelief. “You must be joking,” you looked up at him in clear astonishment, but after seemingly waiting for an eternity Sirius still didn’t reply.
He wanted to, he was about to defend himself, but as he watched you getting worked up about such a minor issue, at least minor for him, he could only think about how adorable you looked when you were upset. Not that he ever wanted to see you angry or sad, but for some reason it just caught his eyes that instead of being threatening, you seemed as if you were slightly pouting.
You groaned, annoyed as the silence grew between the two of you and a small smile started appearing on Sirius’ face. “I hate you!” you shouted at him as you left him behind, stomping across the Courtyard, heavy and loud steps following you.
“Do you?” he shouted after you, silently chuckling, finding your behaviour quite funny and somewhat cute.
“I do!” you replied sulking, your steps becoming quicker.
Sirius couldn’t just let you walk away, he jogged after you and grabbed your wrist, halting your steps, pulling you back against his chest. For a second even the air stuck in your lungs as you realised how close you were to him, his breath fanning your face, his pink lips almost touching yours. You were completely engulfed by his aura, his warm hold on your wrist sending shivers through your body as his other arm sneaked around your waist.
You could swear he felt your dangerously racing heart against his chest, your lips quivering in anticipation, wanting nothing but to feel his mouth on yours. As if he could read your mind, he leaned closer and closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you slowly, sensually. You expected him to be slightly aggressive, maybe dominating, but his kiss was more passionate, gentle instead, causing you a delightful surprise.
“Why?” you breathed against his lips as you parted, your eyes still closed, completely lost in the moment.
“Because I wanted to do it for a long time,” he whispered.
“Why would you?” you chuckled awkwardly. He was always your closest friend and now that you kissed, knowing the friendship you have had was gone, you didn’t know what to do.
“Do I really need to say it?” he scratched the back of his neck, pulling a face, feeling embarrassed about the words you waited for so impatiently.
“If you don’t say it out loud, how do you expect me to understand?” you questioned, and Sirius knew how right you were.
“I- khm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I- I have liked you for a while,” his words were silent and unsure, making you question it.
“Are you sure?” you asked, making him feel even more awkward.
“Of course, I’m,” he groaned, slightly sulking. “It’s just not easy to say.”
“Is it easier if I say I like you too?” you giggled happily, watching as his embarrassed expression slowly changed into a proud grin.
“I knew it, I felt it,” he chuckled happily, earning a deadpan look from you as you slapped his chest gently, before your lips curved into a small smile.
“Right, you did,” you scoffed as you peeled his hands off you and started walking to your next class with a hidden smile in the corner of your lips.
“Wait, wait,” he called after you as he tried to catch up to you.
“What now?” you asked, rolling your eyes as Sirius joined beside you.
“There’s something wrong with your hand,” he stated with a deep frown. You looked down at your hand, lifting it up, looking at it curiously, turning it up and down, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“What do you mean? It seems alright to me,” you replied in confusion, but you couldn’t take a closer look at it as Sirius took it in his hand, interlocking your fingers.
“Now, it’s better,” he grinned playfully, making you giggle.
“Sirius Orion Black, you have a horrible sense of humour,” you scoffed, but you couldn’t fool him. He knew his little joke made you happy and even if it didn’t, the warm feeling of each other's touch, your small hands engulfed by his big palm made up for his silly joke.
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395 notes ¡ View notes
sevlgi ¡ 4 years ago
Text
bubblegum pop
requested: no
group: twice
pairing: sana x fem!reader
genre: fluff
contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.
warnings: none
synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.
a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀
word count: 3.3k
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Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 
So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.
Actually, there really, really wasn’t.
There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.
Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.
“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”
Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”
Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”
The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”
Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”
The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”
“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”
“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”
“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”
The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”
You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”
As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.
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“Really? Sana?”
“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”
Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.
On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.
But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.
No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 
Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”
Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”
“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”
“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”
You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”
“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”
Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”
You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”
Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”
A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”
“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”
“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”
Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”
Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”
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You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.
As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”
It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.
To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”
Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”
Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”
Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”
“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”
Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.
“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”
Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.
Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”
“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”
“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”
Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”
The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”
You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”
You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”
“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”
“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.
Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”
It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 
Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”
“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”
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Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.
“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”
Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”
Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”
Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.
She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.
Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.
Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”
“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”
“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”
Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”
A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”
She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.
Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”
Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”
462 notes ¡ View notes
purpletaecup ¡ 4 years ago
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10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me
warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)
notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!
as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!
not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.
word count: 5,614
☞
The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.
[nov. 20, 2020]
It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.
The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.
You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.
You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.
A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.
It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.
This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.
☞
Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.
“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.
Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.
“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”
“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”
It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.
“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.
“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.
Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.
“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.
At this, Yoongi looked up.
“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.
“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.
Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.
“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.
Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.
It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.
“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.
Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?
The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.
“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.
Yoongi could only nod.
“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.
He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.
“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.
Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”
“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”
“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”
Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.
“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.
Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.
“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.
Yoongi thought about it for a while.
“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling.  When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”
When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.
Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”
Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.
“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.
“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”
At this, Yoongi scratched his head.
“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”
“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.
“Well… I guess so.”
Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.
“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”
The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.
“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”
“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”
Yoongi lowered his head.
“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”
Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.
“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.
“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.
Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”
“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.
Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.
“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.
Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”
Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.
“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”
Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.
He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”
Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.
[nov. 21, 2020]
Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.
They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.
Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.
He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.
“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.
He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.
Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.
☞
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You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.
Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.
About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.
You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.
“You look warm.” You comment.
He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”
You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.
“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.
You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.
“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.
Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.
“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.
You nodded, though hesitantly.
“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.
Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.
“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”
You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.
“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.
Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.
For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.
After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.
“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”
“So I’m just your last resort?”
“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”
“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.
You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.
“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.
Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.
☞
When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.
From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.
He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.
You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.
“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.
Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.
“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.
Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.
“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.
You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.
You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.
Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?
Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.
Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.
You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.
No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.
I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.
After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.
What is this?
☞
After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.
So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.
A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.
Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.
The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.
He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.
It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.
That made him frown.
I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.
Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.
Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.
I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?
Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.
At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.
“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.
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kpop-cakepops ¡ 4 years ago
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okok so my idea for snuggle donation continuation:
after/during the horror movie, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. and then like the girl wakes up before him and gently caresses Wonwoo and plays with his hair blahblahblah and thinks about how much he means to her omg //head in hands//. And like Wonwoo is half-asleep so he probably thinks he’s dreaming like he has NO idea aaarrrgggggg
Idk what happens after maybe they both wake up and are unable to go back to sleep so they go on the roof to look at the stars STILL in each other’s arms and they just exist together. Maybe it could end with Wonwoo looking at her and thinking.....thoughts? (like damn i wanna kiss her so bad) But she has no idea. And so the mutual pining continues but on steroids.
I just realized that the hip-hop half of my bias line (Vernon and Wonwoo) sleeps with their mouths open while the Vocal half of my bias line (Jeonghan and DK) sleep with their mouths closed 😭 WHY IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT?! I DONT KNOW 😭
Anyhow! Here is your request, I actually liked this a lot 🥺! Thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,161
***
Snuggle Donation: Pact. // Jeon Wonwoox Fem!Reader
Wonwoo really is beautiful. Y/N came to that conclusion as she did one of her favorite things: watch Wonwoo sleep and play with his pitch-black locks.
"Wow... I guess you're not too bad when you're not being a little baby about everything" she whispered knowing her best friend was so deep in his sleep that he couldn't hear her.
A soft smile came to her lips as she watched his lips part cutely. Cutely? Y/N's thoughts seemed to spin that way lately, finding the things Wonwoo did cute and heartwarming. She had always felt that way about her friend, it was normal, but everything she'd always felt about her friend seemed to be exalted lately.
Y/N's mind started to go back in time, thinking of all the times Wonwoo had been there for her. When no one wanted to talk to her in middle school and kids were writing nasty things on her desk. In high school when a random pregnancy rumor was spread about the two of them. Throughout university when she had contemplated dropping out. When she was too sick to function, he was there to take care of her... in every one of those moments, Wonwoo had stuck by Y/N's side and cheered her on.
Something had been weighing on her lately too. Her mother had been pestering her about dating so she could start preparing for the future and marriage and children too. Y/N hadn't felt the need to get married or have kids, she hadn't even thought about it. She'd only ever just worried about keeping a stable job, having fun, and hanging out with Wonwoo... but Wonwoo wasn't going to be there forever... and that's how she found herself thinking about his future. He was bound to get married at some point, have a pretty wife and pretty kids... and that thought had sent her stomach on a downward spiral.
"Idiot..." she mumbled through teary eyes. "What am I supposed to do when you get married and leave me all alone... I don't know how to be me without my best friend."
Wonwoo was dazed with sleep as he heard her voice. Dreaming about Y/N wasn't anything new for him. It had happened to him since middle school, spending nearly every day with her, it was bound to happen. What he wasn't aware of was that what he was hearing and feeling wasn't a dream. His best friend was in fact playing with his hair, and telling him how much he meant to her... WHICH SHE NEVER DID UNLESS SHE WAS DRUNK.
Wonwoo stirred in his position before unwillingly opening his eyes while Y/N looked down at him with sad ones. The man blinked in confusion, "Y/N?"
The girl cleared her throat and looked back over at the TV that was now playing whatever had followed the scary movie he'd fallen asleep to. "Hey ugly" she greeted with a fake smile. "I thought you'd never wake up"
Wonwoo groaned and stretched himself out. The side of his face pressing to Y/N's tummy causing her insides to become fluff. "I was dreaming"
"Oh really? What about?" She asked peering down at her best friend's sleepy face.
He grinned up at her and reached out to ruffle her hair. "It's a secret."
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and nudged her legs so he'd get his head off her lap. "We slept through the movie" she whined. "It's midnight now and I'm not sleepy"
"We could always go to the rooftop and have a beer," he said.
That was how they ended up on the rooftop of her apartment building. The two gazing at what little stars the big city lights allowed them to. Y/N found herself huddled up into Wonwoo's side. Lonely thoughts about Wonwoo being gone invading her mind yet again. Meanwhile, all Wonwoo could think of was how nice and warm she felt beside him and how, if he could, he'd love to stay just as they were for a very long time.
"Do you ever think about what life will be like later on?" Wonwoos deep voice reverberated.
Y/N was frozen in her spot as she heard him speak the very thoughts she was having. "You mean like... what we'll be doing in a few years?" Wonwoo nodded in response, face still lifted towards the sky. "Well, I assume we'll be working. I'll hopefully have my own business by then like I've always wanted."
"Do you think we'll get married?" He asked.
Y/N smiled at the wording he used but knew he didn't mean it that way. "Of course. We'll get married, you'll have a pretty wife and pretty kids and I'll have a husband that I... love and... kids..." that I don't even know if I want.
Wonwoo felt a sense of disappointment spread through him. He knew Y/N wouldn't answer his question the way he wanted but hearing her say that she'd be married with kids that were not his was suddenly painful to him. "What if we die alone?" He asked.
"Alone?! Not a chance," she exclaimed as she stretched her hands before her. "I'd rather marry you than die alone," She said almost tentatively. Every time Y/N said something like that it made her feel like she was dipping her toes into a pool of water, one that she was too scared to dive into.
"Should we?" asked Wonwoo catching Y/N by total surprise.
"Huh?"
"Get married, I mean. Should we get married if nothing else works out for us? Make a pact like those people in the movies?" He questioned. Wonwoo was good at hiding his true emotions, and Y/N really couldn't tell how serious he was being so she played along with a little bit of truth.
"A pact. What would the pact consist of?" She asked. "Would it involve you getting on one knee and asking for my hand in marriage?" Her tone was playful but deep inside she wished it did involve that.
"Of course! What type of man do you think I am?" he asked with a grin.
"Okay then, deal. If nothing else works out by 35 then we'll get married to each other and have 1 dog and 2 cats together" She laughed and took a sip of her beer.
Wonwoo smiled as he watched her happily sip at her beer while wrapped up in the blanket she'd taken up with her. It was so hard for him not to grab her and kiss her and just confess everything he felt for her. Yet the fear of losing her and the fear of hearing her say she didn't feel the same way about him, was far stronger than his desire to let it all be known.
"Yeah, if nothing else works out" he repeated quietly.
Guess I'll just have to make sure nothing does until then.
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camslightstories ¡ 4 years ago
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Tolerate it - Part 3
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Notes: I wanted to thank all of you for the love and support, it means a lot. I don't think my writing is very good, but I been improving and I'm really glad you guys liked it. I will be updating tomorrow. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it
I added a prompt list to my page, so if you have any request you can use that for your idea, or if you have already one then its okay. I write for everything. If you have any request just tell me I will gladly write it. I receive any type of feedback, comments and request. Have a great day.
Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. 
The afternoon came around and the sunlight illuminated the house. Boxes of Christmas decorations were piled in the living room. The soft Frank Ocean music was heard in the background. The smell of chocolate occupied the house.
A few hours after you left, your mom stood in the kitchen. With the phone on her ear as she waited for your sister to pick it up. Her eyes ranked over the entrance of the house, as she remembered how weirdly you were acting. 
The hand dribbling in your thigh, the way you didn't talk more of a sentence. Your constant staring at the beach is the same thing you did without knowing as a kid when your father died. The silence as you worked putting the boxes away, was another giveaway since every time you would be doing anything you would hum a song. 
The way you awkwardly answered when she asked you about Lena, and you didn't fangirl over her as you always did, even though the two of you were in a relationship. The way your glance painfully glanced at certain places and tears would threaten to come out, as you immediately brushed off. 
She knew you enough to tell you were different, and that is why she was calling. She knew one of your sisters would obviously know something about it. The long phone rang a few times before Alex picked up.“Danvers, speaking”
“Hey sweetie, how are you? How is Maggie?” Your mom responded.
The redhead said as she smiled. After a time, their relationship grew stronger. “Hi mom, we're both good, today is our day off, and you?” 
Eliza mentioned as she took a sip of her chocolate.“That's great honey, I'm good, your sister came to visit me today”
“Yeah, Kara told me she was going to go since she needs an interview for the girl she is mentoring after New Years'. But I thought she was going on Saturday” Alex responded as she nodded to Maggie to not stop the TV.
“No honey, Y/N. She came to put some boxes away in the storage.” Your mom responded as she put her mug on the kitchen island.
“Ohh I thought she had to work on the pastries for the DEO gala tomorrow and the classes,” Alex said confused. You guys told each other everything, from you having a dumb thought to you accomplishing your dreams.
“No, she didn't mention it. She seemed different to Alex, she just didn't seem as herself” Your mom mentioned.
“What do you mean mom?”Alex said as she sat up on the couch, Maggie stopped the movie and stared in worry at her fiance.
Eliza said “Well she put at least 12 boxes away and she was just not herself, she kept staring at the ocean. And when I mention Lena she just awkwardly answered trying to avoid her”
“That's weird” Alex commented after mouthing to her fiance ‘Y/N’ after Maggie asked what was wrong.
“Yeah, I wanted to ask you if something happened. Because Alex she hasn't been like that since Jeremiah” Your mom said as she glanced outside to see where you sat.
“Nothing has happened that I know of. But I will go check on her. Don't worry okay mom? I will call you later” The redhead responded as she got up.
“Be safe, Sweetie and I love you, say hi to Maggie for me” Your mom concluded as she walked outside to see your drumsticks on the storage.
Your sister said, before ending the call, as she turned to Maggie. “I love you too, okay mom” 
Maggie stared at her fiance, as she asked “What's wrong with baby Danvers?”
“Mom said she was different, she said she was acting like when Dad died,” The redhead said with tears. You had felt in a silent depression when Jeremiah died, and it left slowly after a few years. 
She had told you when you were born she was going to protect you at all cost, and when Kara entered the Danvers family the blonde did the same. And you as the baby of the family you promised yourself you were going to protect you as they did to you, and you were going to sacrifice everything if it meant for them to be okay and happy.
Maggie knew that the bond between the three of you was strong, and she had witnessed it various of times. When Alex was kidnapped, while she and Kara were fighting you were talking to Alex the whole time, and even offer yourself to change places with the guy’s father confessing to a murder you didn't do.
Or when Kara had solar flares you were helicoptering around her, you would check out what she would eat, or where she was going, everything. And when both of them got into a Life or Death situation with Cadmus you had yelled at them until exhaustion. And cried for the next week clinging to them from waking up to sleeping.
And when you got hurt, Kara and Alex would stop everything just to comfort you. When Barry broke up with you, she, Winn, and James had to stop Kara and Alex from going to beat him up because he broke your heart as he chose Iris over you.
Maggie and Alex were walking down the street, before entering JJ’s, one of your workplaces. The redhead furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a new girl at the counter doing her job. Maggie noticed Amelia on the register working and signaled Alex to talk directly to the manager. 
“Hey Alex, Maggie. How can I help you guys?” The brunette said as she noticed the couple.
Alex responded as she looked around “Hey Am, I'm looking for Y/N, I thought she had an afternoon shift, or is she at the school?”
“She didn't tell you?” Amelia commented surprised.
Alex recountered worried “Tell me what?”
“She was fired from the school two weeks ago since they found a ‘better fitting music teacher’ and well JJ fired her this morning after she slept in here last night” The brunette mentioned.
Maggie and Alex begin surprised and worried about the newfound information. Alex started to think about the trust and abandonment issues you had. Maggie noticed her partner going into deep thought so she decided to take over the conversation.
“Wow, that's weird. Do you know where she might be?” The Latina asked.
Amelia answered as she pointed to a jewelry store at the front of the street.“She had me put some of her checks in Mr. Rogers name, she might be there”
“Thank you, Lia, see you,” The couple said as they nodded. The brunette nodded with a smile and kept working.
The streets in National City had always been busy, cars honking up and down the road, some people would often compare it to New York. The daylight of the afternoon illuminated the streets. The cold air and breeze still accompanied people even when the sunlight was up. 
“Good afternoon, to my favorite couple,” The old man said behind the counter with a smile, as Alex and Maggie entered.
Alex responded as she smiled and hugged the man. She had his help to find the perfect ring for Maggie, and now he was making their wedding bands “Hello Mr. Rogers, good afternoon”  
“I was going to call you Danvers” The man commented. 
Alex responded with a worried glance. “Why?”
“Well, your sister paid for outrageous engagement right, and then she came by this morning saying she didn't want it anymore and that I could donate all the money to the orphanage,” He said as he reclined on the counter, Maggie and Alex sharing a look of surprise. 
“She did what?”Alex dropped her jaw in surprise, making Maggie roll her eyes as she softly hit her fiance on the shoulder. Alex came out of her shock, just to speak up almost yelling.
“Yeah a $25 thousand ring, she paid in the last 2 years” Mr. Rogers commented, making your sister and Maggie enter in shock, not being able to say anything. 
“Let me get it for you so you can see the piece of art,” The old man said as he laughed going inside the back of the store. 
“Did you know she was going to propose?”The couple looked at each other before, asking millions of questions with their glances. Maggie recuperated herself first, before speaking up. 
“No, I knew she was in love with Lena but not that she was going to propose” Alex mentioned, as she clenched her jaw. 
How could you not tell her?, What other thing were you hiding? Weren't you supposed to tell her about things like this?, Weren't you supposed to trust her with everything?
“Here it is ladies”. Mr. Rogers said as he put in the counter a black box, Breaking Alex out of her thoughts, opening it when the couple came closer. 
Both of the women stared at the silver ring. The ring was simple but sophisticated. The diamond was but between a small infinite form. Alex and Maggie exclaimed at the same time. It was small, simple, and perfect for Lena. 
“Ohh wow,” Alex said.
Maggie commented “That looks so much like Lena”
The old man said, breaking them out of shock. Giving them 5 envelopes, “Do I still give the money to the orphanage? She also left this for you”
“Yes sir, thank you, I will see you around Mr. Rogers,” Alex responded before sighing as she checked the letters, no daring to open the one with her name. There were five letters in total, with your handwriting. One for Lena, one for Maggie, one for your mom, and the other two for each of your sisters.
The man said with a wave, making the couple smiled.“Bye girls”
After a few minutes, of silence and thinking. Maggie started to think as a Detective recurring every single thing you did. “Okay let's go back and think, She was fired two weeks ago from begin a music teacher which was her primal income, she didn't tell anyone”
“Yes, then last night she slept at the bakery when she had a shared apartment with Lena, her girlfriend. And if they had fought she would have asked Kara or me to spend the night at our apartments.” Alex responded, stopping, seeing her fiance working technique.
Maggie said as pointing out each action. They knew you would often make decisions on feelings but this was out of your league. Leaving is not something you would do, your trust and abandonment issues making sure of that. “Because she slept overnight at the store, JJ fired her today, which she didn't tell anyone, then she canceled her perfect engagement ring order for Lena of 25 thousand dollars and told Mr. Rogers to give the money to the orphanage. Which was at least 2 years of her work” 
“Then she gives five letters to Mr. Rogers and asked him to give it to us and then she went to Mom's, with enough boxes to put away all of her things. Acting differently like when my dad died.” Alex said as she finished, taking a big breath, she knew something was wrong and now she didn't know what to do. She was mad at you but she was also scared of everything that has happened, and how haven't break.
“You don't think it has to do anything with Kara don't you?” Your sister said after Maggie and she shared a knowing look. Kara was also in love with Lena, her best friend. 
After 2 years of seeing you two together, the blonde had figured out. And she knew the blonde was hurting, when she saw Lena with someone else, better said with you. Alex didn't want to think about the fact that Lena somehow loves Kara too, and that if something happened you would be heartbroken, lost, and more. 
She couldn't think like that because she knew you would give up anything so that they could be happy and okay. And if you were hurting, Kara would be hurting too, knowing she hurt you. And she would have to stand at the side, as both of you were hurting because she couldn't do anything.
But why the letters? Why not a text, a call something? Why did you ask someone to give them? There was something that wasn't adding up.
The redhead was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone started to ring again, hoping it would be you. But was greeted with your sister's name on her screen. The redhead shared a look with Maggie before answering the phone.“Kar?”
The line was silent for a few seconds before the blonde blurted out. Making the redhead sighed, there it was.“Yesterday, I told Lena I love her”
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baubabble ¡ 4 years ago
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“Subtle Differences” Part II - Hotch x F!Reader
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PART I  FINAL PART
Summary:  As you continue working the case in Seattle, you begin to notice more and more that Hotch is staying close to you. With the occasional glance, you start to think that maybe his feelings are real, but doubts start to creep up. When another woman goes missing, you and the team must connect the dots faster to save her and find the unsub before it’s too late. 
Word Count: 3743
Warning: Typical CM Violence
Song I Wrote To: “Honest Man” by Ben Platt
Note: Ooh, part 2! This one is the “filler” i guess. Part three is when we get the team in action and a little more hotch x reader moments that I love. That should be up later this week! Also, I have watched this show A LOT, but presenting profiles isnt easy so i did my best. Also, the painting i reference is not real.
-------
The two of you worked in silence for a while as you tried to wrap your heads around the beginnings of a workable profile. 
As you both sat alone in the conference room, you could occasionally feel Hotch glancing over at you, but you were determined to keep your focus on the task at hand. This wasn’t like him to keep somewhat distracted while at work. Then again, he was never one to really show any kind of interest outside of work either. Something had changed, but you weren’t what it was yet. 
Half an hour later and Spencer and Rossi arrived. “Well, doesn’t this look cozy,” Rossi said as he pushed into the conference room, the doctor following right after.
You didn’t bother in acknowledging his snide comment as you continued to focus on the photos spread out before you on the board. Perotta had brought the maps Hotch had requested and Spencer immediately grabbed his red marker and began his geographical profile.
“All three victims were taken outside of very public places,” Spencer said, gaining the attention of the team. “Mason from outside a church she visited weekly, Rayna from a parking lot across from a major shopping center, and Lisa from outside the public library. Whoever the unsub is, he’s not afraid to take risks in the abduction.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you asked, glancing around at your colleagues. 
“It can be either,” said Reid, tucking his hands into his pockets. “However, considering that no witnesses have come forward, he must be using a rather convincing ruse.” 
“Or he’s threatening them with a weapon,” Hotch added. Spencer nodded in agreement.
“Something else isn’t sitting well with me,” you revealed. “This method of killing...it seems like you would need to practice it before, right? Maybe not the wax on the body, but at least using it as a method of asphyxiation.”
“You think he’s done it before?” Rossi inquired. 
“It’s a possibility,” you said. Hotch nodded and hit the call button on the phone. 
“Speak and be heard!” Garcia said.
“Garcia, I need to know if there have been any other murders in the past that resemble the unsub’s method,” Hotch said. 
“As in just the wax in the throat or the whole enchilada?” she asked, causing Rossi to smile. 
“I think we would have noticed the rest of the ritual, so focus on just the method of killing,” you added. 
“I will dig and dig until I can dig no longer. Hit you back!” Garcia said as she hung up. 
As everyone got back to work, you got up to get yourself some much-needed caffeine. As you waited for it to brew, you tapped the pen in your hand against the countertop, trying to organize your thoughts. There had to be more to the killings instead of just replicating a piece of art. The woman in the painting had no discernible features so he wasn’t trying to get her exactly right. There had to be another reason for picking three different women from three different places. The mystery was gnawing at the back of your brain. 
“You look like you’re overthinking.” You turned to see Perotta leaning in the doorway of the break room.
“Just thinking, actually,” you said, grabbing a cup and pouring your coffee. “There are just a lot of things that are bothering me about this one.”
“Don’t all of them bother you?” he asked with a slight chuckle. You shrugged. 
“Unfortunately, you get used to it,” you said, moving past him. Perotta kept close to you.
“Have you always been in the BAU, Agent (Y/L/N)?” he asked, halting you in your step with a hand on your arm. You took a step back, letting his arm slide off of yours. 
“No, I used to be a part of an anti-terrorism task force for a while before I transferred,” you explained. Perotta nodded thoughtfully. 
“Wanted to get less action?” he asked, with a half-smile. 
“More, actually,” Hotch said as he interrupted the two of you. Perotta turned to your boss and you saw him swallow thickly as Aaron Hotchner stared him down.
“Huh, who would’ve thought,” Perotta said, glancing back at you, but you kept your arms close to you and didn’t bother smiling back. 
“The others are back,” Hotch said, pulling your attention. You nodded and turned away from Perotta. Hotch followed you back to the crowded conference room. He walked behind you, keeping a hand on the small of your back. 
“Thank you,” you whispered to him, acknowledging his perfect timing. 
“You’re welcome,” he murmured to you as he held open the door and waited for you to walk through before following afterward, letting his hand fall away. As you joined the rest of the team, you instantly knew something was up. Based on JJ’s concerned face, it wasn’t good. 
“What happened?” you asked, taking your seat between Morgan and Hotch. 
“The unsub has taken another woman,” Spencer revealed.
“Already?” you asked, surprised. “Lisa wasn’t even missing two days. The others were taken a week apart.” 
“He’s increasing his abduction time,” Rossi said, flicking through the file.
“Most likely because he thinks he’s running out of time to perfect his replication of the original painting,” Reid said, twirling a pen around in his slender hands. “Though, I am still not sure what connects all the victims together.”
“I may have an answer for you, Doctor,” Garcia’s voice lit up the room from the phone in the center of the round table. 
“What did you find out, Mama?” Derek asked. 
“Well, honey, I have unearthed something rather interesting. All three of the victims were what you would call art connoisseurs. They all belonged to the same club that focused on fundraising for the arts and preserving historical pieces.”
“Garcia, is the membership for this club exclusive?” Spencer asked. 
“Not at all. In fact, the list of members and donators are both available on the club’s website.”
“Considering he didn’t abduct them from their homes, he has to be getting their routines elsewhere,” you said. 
“Do we have any information on the newest victim?” Prentiss asked. 
“Her name is Allison Wilson, she’s twenty-four-years old from Port Angeles, and she was taken outside of her gym,” said Garcia. 
“Another public place,” Rossi realized. “In the middle of the day too while cops are out in higher numbers. And we thought he was being bold before.” 
“Was Allison a part of this art club, too?” Hotch asked. 
“Yes,” Garcia confirmed. “A newer member from the looks of it as she just moved to the area.” 
“Okay, well if they’re not getting their addresses from the site, then the unsub knows when and where they’ll be,” Prentiss said with a sigh. “Garcia do we have any idea how he’s getting their information?” 
“Not yet, but I am working on it,” Penelope said. “I will hit you back once I figure it out,” Garcia said in goodbye and there was a collective sigh within the group. 
“Okay,” Hotch said, “I think we have enough to deliver the profile.” 
------
Once Perotta had wrangled his officers, your team presented the profile. 
“We’re looking for a white male in his early thirties,” Hotch began, pulling the whole room’s attention.
“We believe he has created a scenario in his mind based on a single work of art in which he sees himself as a sort of reaper type character,” Emily added.
“He is posing his victims in the same way as the woman depicted in the Italian painting. “Manto di cera” or “Shroud of Wax”,” Spence continued. 
“The painting is set to be on full display at the Seattle Art Museum later this week,” you said, stepping forward. “We believe that the final victim he abducted, Allison Wilson, is going to be his final piece of art.”
“So, what was the point of the other three women?” An officer asked. 
“Mason, Rayna, and Lisa can be considered his trial runs. All of it in order to perfect his masterpiece,” Rossi said.
“He is an unhinged individual and will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to make sure he gets what he wants,” Derek said. “You should consider him armed, dangerous, and not afraid to die by suicide or suicide by cop.” 
“This unsub thinks of these women as less than human so there is a good chance that he has a negative history with one,” JJ added, “maybe a girlfriend or even his mother.”
“Whoever this man is, he is connected to the art community here in Seattle,” Hotch said, finishing up. “We’ve set up a tip line, but we are going to have to rely on his previous victims to locate him and Allison Wilson. Thank you.” Perotta then dispersed his officers and everyone got to work on trying to track down the unsub.
“(Y/N) was right, this guy has to have priors,” Morgan said once you and the rest of the team returned to the conference room. “There is no way that he just woke up one day and decided to kill. Not like this.” 
“We should look for any non-lethal incidents,” Reid said, “he may have tried to strangle someone first.” 
“I’ll get Garcia on it,” Hotch said as he hit the call button. 
“Ready when you are,” Garcia answered. 
“Garcia, I need you to look for any past police reports where female victims were strangled or suffocated. Not just crimes that seem similar to the wax," Hotch said, reading through the file again. 
You watched as his brows pulled together and all you wanted to do was to reach out and smooth down the crease that had formed. You knew stress was all a part of the job, especially when it came to Aaron. He never got a break and when cases arose like this one where there were more questions than answers, it took its toll.
At that moment, you wished for a Hail Mary. You wanted to save Allison, of course, but a simple answer or even just a bit of good news would lessen the weight on Aaron's shoulders.
As if feeling your eyes on him, Hotch looked up. Your (Y/E/C) eyes met his dark ones and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. His eyes glanced down your face for a fraction of a second before he looked away. You didn't even realize Penelope was speaking again.
"Okay, I've been running searches for both kinds of crimes that correlate with the profile, but so far, I got zilch," Garcia said.
"Great," JJ groaned, "another dead end."
“However, fear not, my friends, as I do have something else," added Garcia.
“You figured out where the wax came from?” Reid asked. You looked at him, unaware he had even asked her to look into that in the first place. You also realized that it was something you should have thought of yourself. Your frown didn’t go unnoticed by Morgan who lightly kicked your foot under the table. You nodded to him, assuring him you were alright. 
“Not exactly,” Garcia said. “The wax itself is pretty generic. You can get it from multiple different suppliers, but the pigment used in it to make that blood-red color is not sold by the companies. It is an oxidized clay that is regulated and sold from a local artist and I have just sent his name and address to you...now!”
“Morgan, Prentiss,” Hotch addressed, “go pick up the owner and bring him back. JJ, Dave, get in touch with Allison Wilson’s family. Reid, (Y/L/N), keep working on trying to figure out how the unsub is finding his victims from the club.”
“What are you going to do?” Spencer asked. 
“I’m going to call and get a warrant for the owners of the charity club,” Hotch said as he stood and exited the room, followed closely by the others.
You and Spencer sat in silence for a few minutes before he swiveled his chair in your direction. "Is there something going on with you?" Reid asked, peering at you over the knee he had propped up on his chair.
“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 
“I don’t know, something just seems...different about you,” said Reid as he stared at you with that signature confused look of his. 
“Don’t profile me, Spencer,” you said, leaning back in your chair. 
“I’m not!” he said, “but I am your friend and I can tell there is something up.” You turned back towards, sighing. Spencer never missed anything. 
“Hotch is keeping me under evaluation this case,” you said and he immediately understood. 
“I know,” said Reid, “I had to do the same after getting shot. Emily had to do it too.” 
“I feel like every move I make… I feel as if I am under a microscope.” 
“It’s procedure, (Y/N). Look on the bright side, at least Strauss isn’t doing the evaluation,” Spencer said, trying to lighten the mood. That got you to smile and Reid brightened. “See, I knew I could make you do that,” he said, twirling his finger in front of your face. You playfully swatted his hand away. 
“Thanks, Reid.”
“Anytime,” he said with a wink and got up to go stare at the board once again. 
Looking out at the precinct through the glass walls, you could see Hotch in the Captain’s office. He paced while speaking on the phone. Spencer’s words resonated in your mind as you watched your boss. At first, you thought that maybe he had chosen to take on the responsibility of your evaluation to be closer to you, but now you weren’t so sure. What if it was just procedure after all and you were only reading into it? It wouldn’t be the first time that you read signals wrong. For being a profiler, when it came to your own love life, you could be pretty clueless. 
Eventually, Hotch rejoined you and Reid. “Did you get the warrant?” Reid asked, looking over his shoulder as Hotch took a seat. 
“Judge wouldn’t approve it,” Hotch sighed, “said because the website is public domain, anyone could have access and that it wasn’t enough probable cause to warrant a search and seizure.” 
“Great,” you said, “so now we just have to hope the clay guy gives us something.” 
“Do you think he’s a part of this?” Spencer asked. You shook your head. 
“No, but he has to know something. Considering how much wax has been used, and not to mention Rossi believes the unsub had trial runs… He must have bought more pigment than the shop’s usual customers.” 
“But why would he even leave a paper trail for something as easy as a red dye? You can practically make it out of anything?” Reid asked. 
“Because not everyone is as smart as you, Reid,” you said and he smiled shyly, turning back to the board to start laying out the hunting grounds. You looked at Hotch and he was smiling at you, thankful for you praising the doctor. You quirked a brow in question but he just shook his head, returning to his work. You turned away before the blush that welled in your cheeks became more apparent. 
“You guys need anything?” Perotta said as he pushed open the door and leaned in, 
“We’re fine for now,” Hotch said, his tone filled with dismissal. Perotta pursed his lips, but nodded and left, letting the door swing shut behind him. 
“I don’t like him,” Spencer said quietly, his back still turned to you and Hotch.
“I second that,” you muttered. 
“You are both correct,” finished Hotch and Spencer slightly turned to look at you with amusement in your eyes. You couldn’t help the laugh that flew from your throat. Spencer chuckled quietly next to you as you tried to get yourself under control. Hotch watched you, completely enamored by the way your face lit up with a smile as you found him humorous. It was better than any drug he could think of, seeing that smile of yours. 
------
It was a little less than an hour later that the others came back with the shop owner.
The man, Terry Owens, looked nervous as Morgan took him into the interrogation room. His demeanor alone as he walked into the station was enough for you to know immediately that this was not your unsub.
As JJ continued speaking with the Wilson family, you went to observe the interrogation. Spencer and Emily were going over new evidence while you stood next to Hotch on the other side of the two-way mirror. Morgan and Rossi entered the room, taking a seat across from Owens. 
You watched closely as they asked their questions. You could tell that both Morgan and Rossi made the man nervous. He would flinch slightly any time Morgan raised his voice or Rossi shifted in his seat. You and Hotch didn’t say anything as you observed, but the closeness to him was tugging at your mind as you tried to stay focused.
You weren’t focusing on what your team members were asking the man, but rather how he responded to each question. Owens was sweating even though they chilled the room for him. He began slurring his words as he struggled to find answers for each inquiry thrown at him. When Rossi presented Owens with the crime scene photos, the shop owner nearly turned green. Pushing up his sleeves, he took slow breaths, trying to calm down. That is when you noticed the burn marks on his skin. 
They were slight and faded, but from your time with anti-terrorism, you knew the signs of torture immediately. You turned to your boss. “Hotch, I think I know what’s going on,” you said.
“You saw something?” he asked softly. 
“I think he’s been tortured by the unsub,” you explained. Hotch turned his attention back to the interrogation room for a moment before nodding at you. Sweeping past him, you entered the room. Morgan and Rossi looked at you and then got up and stood back, giving you room to work. “Hi, Terry,” you greeted with a warm smile. “I’m SSA (Y/L/N) and I think I know what happened to you.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked nervously. 
“The marks on your arms,” you said, gesturing to the exposed skin. He looked down and his eyes closed as his jaw went rigid. “Terry, look at me.” He did. “Those burns are from hot wax, right?” Owens nodded. “He hurt you to get you to not talk to anyone. He poured the wax on you to make sure you knew that if you talked, you would end up like the women he was killing.”
“I didn’t know he was going to kill them,” Owens said. “Please, I just thought he was into something weird, you know? Like a fetish or some kind of performance art. I’ve seen things like that before. I never imagined…” he trailed off, his hands shaking. You reached out and placed your hands over his. 
“You’re okay,” you promised him. “Terry, nobody is going to hurt you again. He is not going to be able to get to you anymore, but I need his name. He has another woman with him now. Her name is Allison and she’s only twenty-four-years old. She has a little sister named Cailey and a mom and dad who are worried sick about her. If we don’t find her, she’s going to end up like these women too.” You placed the other three photos before him again. “They didn’t deserve to die like this and neither does Allison Wilson.” 
Owens met your eyes, nearly pleading. “I don’t know his name,” he said. “He always paid in cash and he threatened me anytime I asked any personal questions.” 
“Is there anything you can tell me about him? The smallest thing can make a difference.” Owens thought for a moment before he straightened up. 
“I once heard him on the phone,” he said. “I was preparing his new order and someone called him. He was talking to them on speaker and they didn’t say a name, but they called him by a nickname.” 
“What was it?” you asked. 
“Galahad,” Owens said. 
“Like the Knights of the Roundtable?” you asked, turning over your shoulder to look at Morgan and Rossi, confused. Morgan, however, was shaking his head. 
“That’s what Lisa Bracken’s neighbor called the delivery guy that delivered Lisa’s artwork,” Morgan said before he and Rossi were moving out the door. You turned back to Owens. 
“You did great, Terry,” you said. “We’re gonna get him.” You didn’t wait for his response as you followed Morgan and Rossi back into the conference room. 
“Hey, baby girl,” Morgan was already saying as you pushed through the door. 
“Got something for me?” Garcia asked on the other line. 
“The unsub is a delivery guy that delivers specialty art pieces. He works for Ground Express,” Morgan said. 
“Okay that is a pretty big company, honey, you’re gonna have to give me a little bit more than that,” Penelope said. 
“Garcia, look for drivers that are specifically assigned to the dumping zones. He may be dumping their bodies during a route,” Spencer said. 
“Okay, one second…” she said as her hands flew over her keyboard. “Okay, I have four men that work that specific route. Two of them are way too young, the third is African American…” she paused for a second. “And the fourth fits our profile perfectly.”
“Garcia, I need a name,” you said. 
“Alan Rhett,” Garcia announced. “He owned an apartment downtown but was evicted two months ago and now he rents a loft space in Belltown. Oh,” she said. 
“What is it?” asked Rossi.
“He uses his own truck for deliveries and he hasn’t been to work in a few days.” 
“Garcia, send us the address,” Hotch ordered. 
“Already did,” she said. “Be safe, my friends, and go get him.” 
“Will do, Mama,” Morgan said as he ended the call. 
“Gear up,” Hotch said, “We’ll leave in five.” The team dispersed immediately. As you headed for the lockers to grab your vest, a phantom pain echoed through your injury site, but you took a deep breath and tried to center yourself. You were ready for the field, you had to be. Shutting out the echos of gunfire in your mind, you secured your sidearm and went to gear up. You weren’t going to let him kill another woman, not if you could help it.
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magioftheseas ¡ 3 years ago
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Thoughts of You
Summary: In which Rae observes Claire as she ponders, and she has a few thoughts of her own. All tied to, of course, the lady herself.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None really.
Notes: If I’m gonna be writing villainess stories, at least one of them has to be from an actual yuri. Thus, I Favor The Villainess gets this story. Wooooo~ Lesbians~! Pride! Yeah!
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
It’s the moments where Lady Claire is deep in thought where her more elegant beauty shines through. When she pauses, when she ruminates, whatever it is that she considers—it’s such a lovely sight that I can’t help but admire. I can’t help but be curious, too, but I don’t need to ask unless whatever she’s pondering also troubles her.
It’s funny. As a player of the game, I of course wanted to know everything there was to know about Claire. Her thoughts, her feelings, her wants, her desires—elements which were normally dismissed as Claire was a rival, I wanted access to.
As a character within the ‘game’, it’s fine to not know everything. If a time ever comes where she trusts me fully, she can tell me herself.
That’s much more rewarding, even if it’s never going to happen.
Still, it’s so nice to be present in the moment with Lady Claire. Especially when she can take notice of my admiring, and her face scrunches up in a most adorable way that, as a player, I never would’ve gotten to see.
Aah, yep! Up close and personal is the best!
(So close, and yet so far.)
“You’re thinking weird things again,” Lady Claire hissed at me. “Stop.”
“I’m not! My thoughts are perfectly normal for me!” I protested, knowing it’d rile her up.
Which it did because she stamped her foot.
“Normal for you is weird!” she shouts, pointing. Her hands are so nicely manicured, too! Nails perfectly polished and filed down! “What weird thing are you doing now?! Why are you looking at your hands?!”
Goodness, how worked up Lady Claire gets. There’s no reason to not be honest.
“I was thinking about how lovely it would be if our hands fitted perfectly and snugly together,” I cooed, making grabby noises that had her recoil with a high-pitched squeak of surprise. “Lady Claire, won’t you indulge your lowly servant and please let me hold your hand?”
“How dare you request such a vulgar thing—!”
“Yes, a vulgar being as myself should be slapped!” I crowed. “That’s right, Lady Claire! Please put this vulgar thing in its place with a good hard smack delivered by your perfect hand!”
“What’s wrong with you?!” she cried, sounding distressed.
Ah. Might’ve overdone it. Lady Claire’s not a violent person, after all. She’s too gentle for that.
“You can be gentle with me instead,” I said, clasping my hands. “A pat on the head instead of a hard slap would be fine, too! If that’s what you’d prefer!”
I know I’d much prefer to be treated gently than roughly—even though I would be happy with either if it were Lady Claire...
“N-No!” she exclaimed, red in the face. The color that suited her best, the color of passion and of fire—yep, Lady Claire was perfect! “That’s not what I meant! Why do you always respond in the crudest ways?!” Rather than wait for my teasing response, she gave a beleaguered sigh and waved her hand at me. “Don’t even bother replying to that. I should have known better.”
I exhaled, and it unintentionally comes out as a whistle.
Lady Claire has been completely blindsided by my antics. She’s just muttering to herself about what a headache I am and rubbing her temple for good measure. I’ve completely distracted her from whatever it was that she was thinking about before.
I can’t lie. It makes me happy to be on her mind. It also makes me feel guilty about how selfish it makes me to be happy.
“Shall I fetch you some sweets?” I ask. “Some chocolate, perhaps?”
“I don’t trust you,” Lady Claire huffed, waving her hand at me. “Get Lene to deliver it instead.”
“Right away.”
I can’t lie. That stings a little.
But...it’s fine.
Really, it’s fine.
--
Lady Claire is deep in thought again. She really is lovely.
“...you’re staring,” she mutters darkly, nibbling at a cookie.
“Because you’re so beautiful my eyes can’t be kept away!”
She blushes, growls and—oh, she’s so adorable, too. She really checks all the boxes. Adorable, beautiful, and sexy. It’s no wonder I love her so much. I’ve always, always loved her so much even when I didn’t know anything about her.
(I haven’t gotten to truly know her until recently.)
“If you have something worthwhile to say, then say it!” she barked at me, huffy and precious. “Unless you’re thinking vulgar things again?!”
I opened my mouth for the usual banter.
That’s right! Vulgar as always! You really should punish me, Lady Claire! It’s what I deserve!
I ended up shutting it. Lady Claire takes notice, straightening up and staring holes into me. It makes me happy to have that crystalline blue gaze on me. At the same time, I don’t like that she’s so worried.
“No,” I said. “I don’t have anything worthwhile to say. I apologize, Lady Claire.”
Lady Claire makes a face. Pinched up around her dainty nose, her brow furrowed. That sharp gaze of hers narrows now.
“Something is bothering you,” she pointed out. “If that’s the case, then...”
“I won’t let it impede my services to Lady Claire,” I said, lilting and loving. “You don’t need to worry.”
“But—! You admit you’re bothered!” she balked, as if she couldn’t comprehend it. Honestly, she’s too kind for her own good.
I’ve thought it before, but I’m sure of it now.
A lovely person such as her doesn’t deserve to be saddled with the title of Villainess. She shouldn’t have even been shackled to the title of Rival.
Someone like her absolutely deserves great and wonderful things. She deserves to be happy, above all else.
I can’t trouble her. I really can’t. Especially when...
“I don’t want to put such a worried look on your face,” I hum, leaning in but mindful of keeping some distance. Lady Claire blinks up at me, and it’s so breathtaking, especially in how I can see myself reflected in her gaze. “And, do you want to know the truth? All I ever think about is you, and all I concern myself with is how you can be happy. Because I love you.”
Lady Claire flinches, so I hurriedly pull back.
“It’s true! The only thing that’s ever on my mind is Lady Claire! And how adorable, beautiful, sexy she is!”
“Gah!” she shrieked, as irritated as she was no doubt exasperated. “Can’t you be serious for one second?!”
Absolutely not.
“My love for Lady Claire is as serious as serious can be!” I declared passionately. “Lady Claire, I love and revere you! I’ll do so until the end of time!”
“Just shut up! I don’t want to hear anything more from you, Rae Taylor!”
Ooh, full name. She’s super annoyed now.
I can’t help but laugh.
“I worship you and so much more, Lady Claire!”
“SHUT UUUUUP!!!”
--
Back before all this, when I had been writing fan novels, I’d think up all kinds of ways to circumvent Claire’s fate. There was one idea that was in fashion among fan circles.
Disgracement and banishment.
It was always the quickest way to change up the setting and the perfect stepping stone for learning humility. Since I wanted Claire to flourish in the countryside either way, I dabbled with the idea. It was fun—and there wasn’t anything wrong with it. It was just fiction, after all. It wasn’t real.
If anyone attempted to disgrace Lady Claire here, I wouldn’t be able to stand by. I wouldn’t forgive them. If any god looking down upon us now decided that dragging Lady Claire through the mud would be the best way to teach her a lesson, then I’d have to destroy them.
It’s funny how much everything changes when you’re on the page as opposed to the one holding the pen. Even though I know everything destined to happen, I still get unbearably anxious.
What if I can’t help her? What if I can’t save her?
I didn’t lie when I told her that she’s all I think about and all I worry about. If anything happened to her, I don’t know what I’d do.
Lady Claire deserves to be happy. She doesn’t deserve to be forced to suffer under the pretense of self-improvement. I’ll do whatever I can to help and protect her because I love her with all my heart. Not as a character, but...well.
It’s obvious, right? Why am I telling you about this? I don’t think it’ll give me the sense of control I long for.
I just don’t want to lose the girl I love. So, please don’t take her away.
--
“Rae Taylor. I want to go out. I need some fresh air.”
“Oh! You want me to go along?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you?!” she yelled, but she took a deep breath. Composed herself. Still ended up blushing beautifully when she clarified, “Just—I think a brief change of setting can be a good distraction. For both of us.”
Aah.
I love her. I really, really do.
“Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” I swear. “Be it on the path to Hell or the aisle to marriage.”
“W-Why between those two?!” she shrieked. “You—!” Another deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to shake you off anyway. I only expect you to serve me to your fullest abilities!”
“I will! I absolutely will!”
I won’t let you down.
Maybe if I think it hard enough, it’ll become true. Haha, yeah right.
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silverisbestboy ¡ 4 years ago
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Sonic Boom x Reader
Requested by @blackace1993: Conversation was accidentally deleted but from what I remeber of it, they wanted hc for the Sonic Boom characters who has a partner who frequently gets into trouble and/or captured by Eggman. They didn't specify which character they wanted so I just did all of them minus Tails. Hope you enjoy!
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Sonic:
There's no denying it
Sonic was smitten
The moment you set foot on the island Sonic was taken aback by you
To him, you were drop dead gorgeous with a great personality so I guess you could say it was love at first sight for him
This boy is a fool for you
It's actually quite funny watching him zip across the island at the slightest remark that you need something
"Man, you what? I'm feeling kind of hungry"
"Say no more!" He'll say as he zooms away and reappears seconds later with a chili dog in hand
"Uhhhh"
But, unfortunately for you, being in any sort of relationship with Sonic is not wothout complication
Eggman sees you as a new oppurtunity to best Sonic and ends up taking you hostage on a regular basis
The first time it happens, Sonic all but destroys Eggman's fortress looking for you
But after it continuously happening, it starts getting kinda old
"Greeting Sonic! I see you've come to rescue your little girlfriend"
"Yeah, yeah. Can we just we just get to the part where I clobber you?"
It gets to the point where Sonic starts teaching you how to defend yourself so you can hold your own against Eggman
Not that he doesn't mind rescuing, it's just he can't always be there to protect
With the amount of times they've had to save you, the team are already very familiar with you and consider you apart of their friend group
But as you get better is self-defence, Sonic officially announces you as part of the team and you start joining them on missions
While Sonic does tend to stick to your side more than his other teammates during battle, he's glad to have you fighting alongside them
After all, he's happy to spend as much time with you as possible, even if that means having to bash Eggman's robots to do so
Knuckles:
You're not a bad person
So what if you have anger issues
So what if you get into fights from time to time
So what if you've been in trouble with the cops before
Doesn't mean you're a bad person, it just means you've.... got some issues
One day you're not in the best mood and have already had a pretty shitty day, and you're just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode
So it's no wonder that when a big guy bumps into you and causes you to drop the tray of food you're holding, you go off on him
Unfortunately for you, this guy is huge, a tall red echidna with bulking arms that looks like he could punch you into next week
But you're not one to back down from a fight, you've beaten up guys twice your size before and you're not afraid to do it again
"Woah, hey, sorry about that, didn't see you there."
What, is he dense?! Who does this guy think he is barrelling into anyone he pleases just because he's big? You bet he was just gonna walk off without even helping you. Well, you'd show him!
Without warning, you lunged at the echidna with the intent of knocking him over the same way he almost did to you
But you underestimated his initial strength and reflexes and he caught you midair with your legs kicking and your hands clawing for his face
"Woah, dude chill! I said I was sorry!"
He just kinda holds you up in air at arms length with you kicking and screaming until you eventually tire yourself out
The echidna stares at you cautiously
"Are you good now?"
After a moment, you reluctantly nod, and he gently sets you back on your feet
He then carefully leans down without takong his eyes off you and grabs your burger which is still wrapped in foil and reaches it out to you
"How about we start over? I'm Knuckles."
You thought after that encounter, that was the last you'd see of him
But one day, you've gotten yourself into another fight, and to say you're losing would be an understatement
It's once again, a guy twice your size and he's absolutely beating the crap out of you
But by some miracle, Knuckles happens to be walking by and immediately notices you
He steps in to save you, and the guy you're fighting knows about Knuckles being part of Sonic's team and doesn't even bother attempting to fight him
Knuckles takes your half conscious body to Tails's work shop where they fix you up
After that, Knuckles refuses to leave you alone
Even if you try to leave, he always ends finding you to make sure you don't get into more trouble
He helps you find outlets for your anger by sparring and working out with him
You grow a soft spot for Knuckles that you'd never thought you'd have for anyone
He's your big goofball that somehow always manages to calm you down and get you out of whatever trouble your in
Though it's beyond you why anyone would want to put up with you, eespecially a lovable ray of sunshine like Knuckles, you're so grateful that you have someone like himin your life to keep you in check
A/N: Might make more hcs for that because I absolutely love the idea of big, strong goofball Knuckles having a little ball of pure rage as a partner.
Amy Rose:
Some would say you're a pacifist
Some would say you care too much
Some would say you're too nice
But you like to think that you're just trying to do good in the world
You're definitely the type of person that hates conflict and wants everyone to get along, and you're more often than not a bit of a pushover
You like to give people benefit of the doubt and prefer to see the good in people, although sometimes, this affects you negatively
A kindly looking (or at least in your opinion) wolf with a showman's top hat and a certain glint his eyes one day stops you in your tracks and asks you ever so politely if you would kindly lend him some money to help feed his family
Of course, you're quick to help, but little do you know that this is none other than T.W. Barker himself, and he's been watching you carefully for some time
He notices the way you jump at the oppurtunity to help someone in need, and he being a con man at heart, decides to take advantage of that
But before you can lend the man all the money you have in your pocket, a certain pink hedgehog decides to interfere
"Hey, you leave her alone Barker! Go find your own ATM machine!"
Amy Rose herself stands not far behind you, hammer in hand and ready for trouble
"N-now, now, let's not be too hasty. I was simply accepting a generous donation from this unsuspecting-- I mean self-less young lady."
"Yeah right. Beat it before I hammer you into next Tuesday, punk!"
You're in utter shock as the seeming wolf in sheep's clothing (pun intended) makes his escape
"Gotta look out for scumbags. Seems this village is getting more and more of them everyday. Anyways, I'm Amy, what's your name?"
Since then, Amy keeps a close eye on you to make sure you don't become prey to anymore scam artists
Now Amy will never admit she has anger issues, but she does get... irritated from time to time
On more than one occasion, you're there to help her calm down and have a sleepover planned or a spa day for when things get particularly rough for her
Whenever she needs help choosing which paint to redo her wall with, or which dress she should wear to a party, she calls you up, because no matter what you're interests are or how inconvenient the timing might seem, you're ready to help a friend, even with mundane things
Amy has you become a part of the Sonic family, and while you never do join them in battles, you help keep the peace between the team whenever there's an argument
And Amy always makes sure your overly caring attitude isn't being taken advantage of
No matter the time or the place, Amy knows she can always count on you, and you know she's always got your back
Sticks:
Well this is quite the predicament you've gotten yourself into
A lot of people would descibe you as clumsy, but you knew you just bad luck
And to prove just that, here you were dangling upside from a rope trap after deciding to take a liesure stroll through the forest
What are we, nomads? Who sets out traps in the middle of the woods anymore?!
After about 20 minutes, the blood is rushing to your head and you're starting to feel faint
But just as you think that your bad luck will finally be the end of you, figure bursts from the bushes with a fierce battle cry
It's a badger girl with a boomerang clutched in her paw, ready for a fight
But after a moment she realizes just who's gotten caught up in her trap
"Hey, what's the big idea?! Why're you in my snare?"
"Why am I in your snare? Why did you put out a snare you loon?!"
After about 5 minutes of arguing, Sticks reluctantly cuts you down, begrudgingly explaining that she set out a trap for any woodland monsters
You run into her again on another walk, crossing a small stream before tripping on one of the stepping stones and almost falling in before a furry arm wraps around your waist
"You outta be more careful out here. The wilderness is no place to be a klutz."
"Hey, I'm not a klutz. I just have bad luck is all."
And what more to gain the attention of a superstitious badger than the possibility of supernatural forces at play
"You could've been hexed by a witch. Or worse, there could be a vengeful spirit after you! We gotta get you an exorcist!"
"I'm fine, I'm just unlucky. Always have been always will be."
"We should still burn some sage in your home just to be sure."
You let Sticks do what she wants with you, after all, her superstitious perspective is a nice change from everyone just thinking your clumsy
You think her attempts to "cleanse" you are endearing, she tries something new everyday, and you end up learning a thing or two about survival and the corruptedness of politics from her
Weeks later, her attempts slowly dwindle down, and she just comes to accept she's just gonna have to keep an extra close eye on you, especially when she sets out booby traps
The time y'all have spent together, although it was somewhat motivated by Sticks not wanting to get whatever curse you exposed her to, lead to y'all having a close bond
Everyone has their quirks, she's paranoid and you're clumsy, but you two always manage to work things out
And that's the beauty of a relationship
A/N: Sorry I haven't been that active lately, so take this as an apology. Four hcs for the price of one!
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thelastpilot ¡ 4 years ago
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Tell Me So I Understand- Adrino Fic Request
This is one of my finished commissions for the amazing charity even @mlbforblm with a 4k fic commissioned under the request for ‘Adrien/Nino hurt comfort’. If you would like to comission something from me as well before this event concludes please go here to check out my slots! Please donate to this great cause and get a fic from yours truly.~~
----
The cool metal of the railing grounded him to the space, reminding him of where he was as he struggled to remain present. Nino took a deep breath, the frigid air making him shiver slightly. The balcony on which he hid was abandoned for the most part, one couple huddled together many yards away as they finished discussing something private. Neither of these people took any notice of him, the woman’s presumably lovely but insufficient dress for the cold forcing the pair to hurry back inside. They had likely been hoping for privacy, but it seemed only Nino’s turmoil was sufficient enough cause to stay in the bitter cold, ruminating.
He attempted to straighten his spine, standing tall as his hands pulled weakly at his tie, trying to let him breathe. He shuddered again as a cold breeze bit through his suit jacket, reminding him of its expensive weight paired with expensive shoes paired with expensive bullshit on this lifeless marble balcony-
He closed his eyes, forcing that spiraling thought down and trying to relax, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling at the tie.
It had been unbalanced for almost the entire event, Nino noticing too late that it was askew and silently panicking over how long it had been that way. It was a small infraction but… depending on who you asked,
So was he.
His urgent hands stilled as they gave up on the mess they had made, falling forward to grip the ice cold railing again.
 This was his first big event.
He had expected it to be taxing, he’d been bracing himself for it all month but he knew how much it meant to Adrien to do this together. Adrien himself had sworn off big galas and publicity junkets like this almost entirely after he turned 18, but every once in a while he’d put in an appearance at some big soiree and do his thing, if only for Gabriel.
This was the first event Adrien had planned to attend since the two of them had made their relationship public to the press. He had been so excited to attend it as a couple.
Now Nino had essentially abandoned him to the wave of rich folks with their petty shallow conversations and was on the verge of some kind of panic alone behind the first unlocked door he had found.
It had hit him out of nowhere… he hadn’t expected to be comfortable, fancy events were never really his thing and he had always felt out of place in formal spaces. However the more nervous he became the more he felt he was messing up every interaction he had. Despite Adrien’s best efforts they were routinely separated, and every time they were apart Nino would flounder along the edges of the party, hoping no one would talk to him. He was a pretty sociable guy but there were just so many people he didn’t know how to talk to. And in the end he had nothing to say.
When someone who probably had a mutli-million dollar net worth pointed out his tie was messed up it had really seemed like she was just being nice, wanting to let him know to save him the embarrassment, but it had just been the final straw. Now he was totally unpresentable, having made the problem worse as he routinely did.
 Nino slumped against the railing, letting his face fall in his hands as he tried his best to get a grip… the cold, emotionless marble all around him left him in peace, even if the sudden swell of party noise did not.
The glass door clicking shut sent a spike of nerves up his back and he quickly reached for his tie, resolved to just rip if off when he heard a chilling, familiar voice.
“I hope you realize that’s one of kind. If you just throw it over the edge, I won’t be replacing it.”
 Nino paused, taking a long, calculated breath. He couldn’t help the wash of anger that crept up on him in this vulnerable moment, but he used the freezing air around him to push it down, turning to regard the man who had found him.
 Gabriel Agreste did not seem to notice the cold, standing as firmly and distantly as Nino had always known him to be. He was wearing unusually dark colors, his tux looking more appropriate for mourning then it did for a large charity event, but perhaps that was just apart of his newest theme. The suits he had tailored made for himself and Adrien were similar, though thankfully not identical. He approached slowly, drinking methodically from a tall glass.
Nino took a moment to decide how he wanted to handle this, before deciding after a time to just slouch against the railing, allowing his irritation to show on his face.
“What do you need,” Nino muttered, unwilling to engage in the careful politeness they usually maintained. He couldn’t honestly say he had had a deliberately unpleasant experience with Gabriel in some time now, but at this moment… he just didn’t have the energy.
Gabriel didn’t answer, his professional eye glancing over him and sending another wash of anger through him, analyzing him like every other fucking person he had met tonight. It was a shock however when Gabriel stepped forward, coming towards him without another comment just yet, like he didn’t feel the need for one.
Nino tensed in confusion and discomfort as Gabriel set his glass down and abruptly reached for the mess he had made of his tie, ignoring the way Nino backed up against the railing to make as much distance as he could. All Nino managed at first was an uncomfortable huff, but Gabriel hadn’t asked permission and he didn’t ask for any to continue. The cold, emotionless man just started fixing it, ignoring Nino’s rampant confusion.
They were dead silent as Gabriel fixed his tie, the older man just resolving the issue without comment or explanation. By the time he was done the tie was affixed perfectly in its place, but it was clear the young man wearing it was extremely uncomfortable still.
They waited, Gabriel taking a step away and looking out over the railing, the distant view of Paris at night their only commentary for a while.
It was still. And it was cold.
And it was quiet.
 Nino didn’t move for a while, eventually shifting uncomfortably until he was looking out over the vista as well, a good five or six feet between them now.
Nino’s mind was racing over what to do, before a subtle shift interrupted his panicked thinking. He looked over just as Gabriel turned slightly to regard him.
“My son is looking for you.”
“Hm,” Nino replied, looking away. He fidgeted slightly, and said nothing else.
“He’s making a bit of a scene, people are starting to notice.”
Nino couldn’t contain his irritation at that, shooting Gabriel a dark look as he said, “Am I expected to apologize for that?”
“I would have thought you might,” Gabriel said coldly, looking away from him and out over the city. He paused for a beat before his tone shifted. “You accuse me of managing his image,” his voice fell into a near accusation, “You seem far more concerned with it than I am.”
“What does that mean,” Nino hissed at him, finally straightening and facing him fully, but Gabriel seemed unperturbed. He just continued to admire the view.
“It means if you weren’t so obsessed with how your presence affected his reputation you wouldn’t have ran away.” Gabriel turned slowly, fixing him in place with one cold, ice blue eye. “Hypocritical of you, seeing as my son largely holds it against me for asserting that same thing once.”
Nino didn’t manage to retort right away, a hot, angry feeling restricting his chest as he stared him down. He knew his hands were shaking, but as he grappled with the pit of anxiety that clawed through years’ worth of protective anger, he couldn’t know for sure why.
“Don’t act like you know me, you don’t know shit about me.”
“I know about people. It’s my business,” Gabriel stated firmly, looking off into the distance again as if Nino was barely there. “I’ve built a lot around understanding fundamental weaknesses in character. And if you think a man whose built his company around insecurities can’t identify one at a glance then you’re a fool.”
“So you’re a cold blooded monster. I get the picture.”
Nino half expected an evil chuckle or something else cliché from him at this point, but he was surprised to see the man pause and reach for his glass. When he finally spoke… his tone was cold, and bitter.
“I would have thought my son had already told you as much.”
Silence lapsed suddenly, Gabriel’s passive sentiment hanging between them as Nino tried to unpack what that meant. However, there was too much there, the older man continuing to drink silently.
Nino didn’t have anything to say, unsure of what to make of the cards Gabriel was playing. Was he aiming for pity? Like Nino should somehow feel bad about the relationship he had with his son? That didn’t seem right…
One hand drifted to his fixed tie, wondering what any of this was for.
“Do you have a point here Gabe? Or are you just adding vague upsetting dialogue to my breakdown tonight?” Nino pushed the words out firmly, knowing he had to stand his ground with this guy. His casual nickname annoyed him about as much as he had hoped, Gabriel suddenly looking stiff, but not addressing it.
“My point,” he finally spoke, “is that you’re as transparent as you can be. You’re insecure, you’re out of place. You don’t belong here and it makes you seem weak, anyone in that room can tell that much just from looking at you.” Gabriel turned, his expression completely unreadable. “You don’t think you deserve to be here with him.”
Nino didn’t flinch, clenching his fists tighter as he swallowed down all the dark, twisted crap he was feeling. He refused to waver, even if he was sinking he wasn’t going to let that show.
“Well isn’t that just everything you ever wanted,” Nino spat at him harshly, “isn’t it nice to know you were right.”
To his surprise, Gabriel was quiet.
Nino stood there, steadfast. Even if he didn’t know what to do with all the shit in his head, this was a threat he knew how to handle. But despite what he expected, Gabriel didn’t fire back. He waited, and finished his drink, setting it down with a quiet clink of glass against marble.
Gabriel straightened, standing as tall and as unbeatable as he always had. And yet he didn’t look him in the eye.
“I realized too late that what I think doesn’t matter.”
When he finally met Nino’s gaze, what he saw was a young man who was completely unprepared for what he was hearing. He still saw all those insecurities, woven into him and impacting every single thing he said and did. He had spotted them the first time they had met, seen them below the surface every day since. Nino didn’t even attempt to deny it, but that wasn’t the point.
The point was that Gabriel understood what he thought didn’t matter anymore.
“You’re a hypocrite, and a fool,” Gabriel finally surmised plainly, “You openly accept the same things my son held against me.  What I think of you doesn’t matter, what my son thinks of you does. Is that not what he always insisted?”
Nino waited… his steadfast posture loosening in his uncertainty, because- this wasn’t going… how he thought it would.
“… I didn’t think you really understood that.”
“It appears I wasn’t the only one.”
 Nino was dumbstruck, completely disarmed in less than a sentence. The frigid air between them kept them separated, like winter in Paris somehow understood there would always be this immeasurable gap between these two people. Somehow though they occupied the same space, revealing them both for a moment. And he didn’t understand what he saw.
A man who had lost a lot because of his own actions. Naively, perhaps, he had always assumed Gabriel was oblivious to that.
Gabriel Agreste began to step away, pacing around him and abandoning his glass to chill out on the marble railing alone. He was shoulder to shoulder with him when Nino finally spoke, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to stop.
“Wait- wait. Gabriel wh-,” he hesitated, conflicted about this but knowing he was exposed no matter what he did. He saw right through him.
Nino looked away from him and said, “What if you were right? What if… what if I’m not good enough?”
Gabriel paused, turning his face slightly to regard something, before looking back towards Nino. “I believe my son would have a lot to say on the subject.”
Nino frowned, confused for only a moment before Gabriel excused himself without ceremony or further comment. He stepped away and left him there, and it was only when Nino turned to follow his movement that he saw the illuminated doorway occupied by a still, silent silhouette.
Nino felt his heart falter before it sank deep into the pit of his stomach, the freezing cold of the night occurring to him for the first time in a while. It was inescapable now, chilling him to the bone as he watched Gabriel cross the space, passing by his son without feeling the need to address him. He just left them to survive one another, vanishing into the light and the sounds of the long-neglected venue.
It was quiet, the thrum of the party the only commentary. It faded and dulled as Adrien slowly closed the door, letting it shut without a sound and sealing them away in the private space.
Nino’s hands were shaking, and he knew perfectly why now; there was no anger left to compete for his confusion. He breath became uneven as Adrien stepped forward, coming towards him slowly but falling short with a sizable distance left between them.
The expression on his face was completely unreadable, set firmly in place as he stood there and said nothing. All Nino could hear now was his heart, and his breathing, the tempos erratic and out of sync.
“A-Adrien,” he finally managed, his hands anxiously fumbling with his cuffs. He let out a nervous laugh, unable to look away from his face. “L-look I don’t really know how much of that you heard, but I-,”
“I’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” Adrien spoke flatly, something just below the surface of his tone. “I called you a million times.”
Nino’s hand twitched towards his pocket, another uneasy laugh slipping out. “It must have died…,” he lied.
There was silence, for a while.
“I- I was-… Nino,” Adrien let his name out in a rush, like a gasp almost, and his unreadable expression cracked just a bit into endless guilt, “I came out here so ready to apologize and take you out of here, I was ready to say sorry for dragging you here and making such a big deal out of this even though I knew it made you uncomfortable. I knew you were having a horrible time I knew you hated it but I didn’t- I-,” he stopped again. Adrien looked away, staring down at the cold marble like he needed the distance, and to Nino’s horror he saw his shoulders shake as his hands balled into fists. “I thought you hated fancy parties, I thought you hated formal events. I thought you hated the people and the posturing and everything else I didn’t think-,” he stilled, and looked up. And the look on his face broke his heart.
“Nino is any of what you just said true? Please…,” and his voice cracked, “Please tell me you don’t really believe anything you just said…”
 The space between them felt like miles to him, Nino pouring over the details of Adrien’s face before he couldn’t stand it and he just looked away. His hands curled together without his permission and he didn’t know what to say… he didn’t even know if it was true.
Gabriel had put it in his head but they both knew he was right, everything Nino thought throughout the whole wretched night came back to this one idea. That everyone in the room knew who Adrien was, everyone wanted the gossip on his newest announcement. Everyone wanted to see who was so important that Adrien Agreste had stepped away from the spotlight.
Everyone wanted to see if he was worth it.
And he didn’t know the answer…
 His hands shook only once more, the cold only touching him for another, long, weighted moment. When suddenly he felt something warm and urgent and nearly angry push against his chest, forcing him three steps back.
He was backed up against the railing in a second as Adrien reached for his face, tilting his face and kissing him suddenly, so urgent and quick that it was only Adrien’s strength that kept them both from slipping. Nino let out a gasp of surprise but Adrien took it from him, him mind going blank as he kissed him again, only some corner of his mind registering the distant smash of glass as Gabriel’s abandoned drink tumbled away from them both a long ways down. He fell with it, in a way, only Adrien enough to keep him from breaking into pieces.
He fumbled for something to hold, loosely gripping at Adrien’s jacket as the contact went on, his fingers limp after a while, his thoughts unfocused.
He had no idea how long it went on for, but by the time they were done they were both panting unevenly. Adrien did not leave his space, planting his hands on either side of him on the railing to steady himself. Nino held on to him for much the same reason, his chin tucked into Adrien’s shoulder as they caught their breath.
“I-,” Adrien spoke unevenly, his voice heavy, “I have something… to say.”
“Are you going to say it like that? You can, if you want to,” Nino answered, his chuckle breathy as he struggled to ground himself.
“This is important,” was his only response to his joke, the man moving so that he could force him to look up, the two of them standing face to face.
Nino looked at him again, so close up now that he could see so much behind what he had interpreted as unreadable. It was angry, and guilty, and heartbroken; it was loving, and soft, and urgent, and desperate.
“I have something to say, and I want you to understand it. I- I need you to get this. And if you don’t, I’ll say it again.” His eyes drifted all over his face, holding himself in that intimate space.
“You’re the most important thing that has ever happened to me. The most… critical, and precious thing I have ever had. What you say, and what you think means everything to me, and that’s all. That’s it, I can survive everything else, I can put everything else aside Nino.” He looked him in the eyes, searching his face like he was desperate to be clear. “You are the only unquestionable thing to me, having you with me and knowing that I can be apart of your life is all that counts. I don’t care what they think!” he nearly shouted it, gesturing behind them to things Nino couldn’t even see anymore, only focused on his face. “I don’t care what he thinks, I care what you think, and what you believe. And if you can honestly try and tell me that you- you shouldn’t… that you can’t be- be seen with me I-…” he faltered, his head tilting down and shaking slightly like he didn’t understand. Nino tried to speak but Adrien continued, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself. “I don’t get it, I don’t understand it. I can’t see it at all and that makes it so hard to come at because I just don’t see where you’re coming from. Please Nino,” he straightened up, looking at him again, “please explain it to me so I can understand. Tell me how it makes sense because I don’t understand. What did you mean when you said ‘What if I’m not good enough,’ what did that mean? Was that him? Was that him trying to get in your head?”
“No, no no no, I-,” Nino faltered, looking down so he could breath. Adrien’s hands were cold from the marble when he reached up to cup his face. When he tried to tilt his face up Nino resisted, moving a hand to hold on to his and leaning into it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry-,”
“Don’t apologize. Just tell me so I can understand.”
“I don’t know!” Nino finally forced out, shutting his eyes and gripping his hand tighter. For a moment Adrien thought he was going to tear it away, but he just clung to him. “I don’t know, I’m just being stupid, I don’t know how I meant it. But every headlines saying it, every fucking tabloid post all the gossip Adrien its not like you couldn’t hear it,” he moved his other hand to pull a wad of Adrien’s jacket into a fist, hanging on. “I kept pretending like it wasn’t getting to me what was I supposed to say?” he continued wretchedly, finally looking up at his boyfriend and aware of the pain on his face. “How was I supposed to tell you that I didn’t get it either. That every crapshoot paparazzi asking who was so important and I just- I didn’t know. I just felt lucky that you loved me but I didn’t know the answer to all that shit, whose so important, I don’t know either. I don’t get it, I don’t get any of this! I don’t know where to stand or who to talk to or how to look,” he whispered, gesturing to his tie again though it hardly mattered anymore. As the words fell out of him he lost steam and urgency, leaning down until his forehead was against Adrien’s shoulder. His boyfriend responded immediately, holding him tightly.
“I’m sorry…,” Nino finally apologized anyways, keeping his eyes shut and trying to focus on only them. “I should have just told you I was way too far out of my comfort zone… I knew how much this meant to you and I blew it… I wanted people to see us together. But then everyone did and they were asking who I was, and I’m not any-,”
“Don’t,” Adrien cut him off, saying it so suddenly and firmly that Nino immediately fell quiet, pulling back to look up at him. “Don’t say that.”
When he pulled back to stand face to face with him again he saw all of the same things he had seen in him before, but among those feelings now he saw disbelief.
“Don’t talk to me like you’re no one, I can’t stand it Nino… I can’t. You just have no idea…,”
Nino hesitated, wanting to look away again, but not resisting when Adrien reached up to stop him. “No idea about what…,”
“No idea about you,” he answered, and the way he said it, the way he looked at him…
 It was like he was everything.
 When Adrien kissed him again Nino was instantly breathless, clinging to him as Adrien pushed him back. It was like he was trying to speak, taking Nino’s advice and trying to tell him everything he needed to say in a kiss.
His thumb slid over his cheek and Adrien kissed him again, and again, trying as many times as he could to get it all across. How do you tell someone that they’re everything to you? How do you tell someone who doubts and wavers that there are some things that are just fact… indisputable, undeniable facts?
I love you.
I know.
I love you.
I know…
  I love you… I love you.
I know... I know... I love you too.
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writerbyaccident ¡ 4 years ago
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A Dance (Yandere Fae! Erasermic/Aizawa x Hizashi x Reader)
Request: yandere erasermic x reader? sorry i don’t really have any ideas on what it should be about lol
Author’s Note: Well I just finished Crescent City: House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J Maas and I decided to reread the ACOTAR series, so how about some fae?
           You had grown up surrounded by warnings of the fairy rings. Your family, your friends, your neighbors, they had all warned to stay away from the mushroom made circles. The moment that a single mushroom began to grow within the borders of your village, it was destroyed immediately, and the grass where it grew was burned. And if you ever came across a ring of mushrooms in the depths of the woods, you were told to run straight back home. But you had never been one to follow either convention or orders.
           “Aren’t humans supposed to become tired when they dance?”
           Halting in your rhythmic steps, you turned to see which of the fae was so curious about human beings. His blond hair shined under the moonlight, and his grin was one of welcome. He almost appeared to be human himself, if it were not for the telltale pointed ears that gave him away. The companion who held his hand though, he was much more obviously inhuman. For beneath the black hair that tumbled onto his shoulder, two curling horns of the same color protruded from his head.
           “If we dance for too long,” you answered, knowing better than to ignore the fae when they spoke to you. “But I am far too excited to tire easily.”
           “We have seen you here before,” said the dark-haired male. “And you keep on returning. I’m happy to see that you haven’t grown bored of us yet.”
           At the fae’s words, turning to look at the scene before you. All around you were dozens of fae, some dancing, some drinking, some just talking. The whole atmosphere was festive, but with the slightest underlying hint of danger. The wine that the fae drink were like goblets of blood, and the way they danced and moved their partners belied just how powerful they were. Most of all though, was the way that the two fae males gazed at you. There was a hunger in both of their eyes, a predatory gleam that exposed a deep need within them, a need that threatened to swallow you whole. Yet somehow, you did not tremble in fear. No, the risk only made your nightly visits that much more enticing.
           “I don’t think I ever could,” you chuckled. “This place is far more exciting than my little village.”
           “Oh? Do you not love your home?” the dark male asked.
           “I love my family, and I love my friends. But still, they and my home itself are so often stifling. Here I can find freedom.”
           “We are glad to hear that,” the light-haired fae said. “Such a fair creature should not be kept in such a dullcage. Don’t you agree, love?”
           “Of course,” his lover answered. “I am thankful that you find such joy here. You deserve nothing less.”
           “Well, thank you. Before discovering this place, I often worried that my home would end up suffocating me.”
           “What a terrible thought!” cried the blond, squeezing his lover’s hand in disgust at the possibility of you becoming so shattered. “I am thankful then that we two decided to host these dances.”
           “You are the hosts?” you gasped quietly, alarmed that you had been talking to two such important fae without knowing it.
           “That we are. Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Aizawa, and this is Hizashi.”
           “Well met.”
           “And may we have your name, little songbird?” Hizashi asked, a bit too eagerly. You smiled slyly at him, knowing exactly what it was that he was trying to do. Even though you had not bid your family’s warnings regarding the fairy rings, you still knew better than to give over your name to the fae so freely.
           “You may call me Ainsel,” you told them. At that answer, Aizawa and Hizashi glanced at each other furtively, bitterness piercing them at your clever dodge. They had watched you for so long now, even before you had first set foot into their fairy ring. From the edge of the wood they had watched you, had grown to love you, had grown to need you. From their desperation they had tempted you into the woods, until you finally joined their dance on that first night. After so long of waiting so carefully for you to let yourself become trapped in their loving arms, the fae males were becoming impatient.
           But no matter, Aizawa told his lover with just the slightest upturn of the corner of his mouth. You may not have given them your name, but there were other ways for them to finally lay claim to you. With that reminder, Hizashi brushed away his disappointment, flashing you a wolfish grin.
           “Well then, Ainsel,” he said, “may you honor us with a dance?” At his question, both Hizashi and Aizawa held out their free hands to you, beckoning you to join them. The night air surrounding you begged you to accept, to let their hands take your own. For a moment you hesitated, the warnings of your village echoing in your ears. But when you glanced into their eyes, so darkly tempting, you found your hands giving themselves over.  
           The moment that your skin brushed theirs, both Aizawa and Hizashi wrapped their fingers around your tightly, refusing to allow you to slip away after so long yearning for you. Grinning already at their assured success, they began to spin you, their movements leaving you breathless. They must keep you dancing until sunrise, they reminded each other with a look. For when the sun rose, you would be theirs for as long as they chose to keep you. And they would never let you go.
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adiwriting ¡ 4 years ago
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@litwitlady​ requested more Isobel, so here you go.
As always, prompts for this verse are open. Drop them in my inbox or message me. (gif by @darlingnotso​ <3 ) 
PSA: I’ve been struggling all week with how to continue writing Malex given my current emotions about the TB situation. And I realized that not creating anymore isn’t going to help anyone. What WILL help is putting money towards relief for Native Americans. So from this point forward, every time I post a fic, I am going to be donating $$ to the Navajo Nation COVID-19 Relief Fund and if you are willing and able, I invite you to do the same. 
Week 14: 
Michael is laying in bed with Alex, both of them just starting to wake up after a late night. Alex had performed at open mic night and then Maria had offered up a round of shots. One round of shots quickly became several and after an Uber home, they’d continued drinking over a very competitive game of strip poker, that Alex had lost spectacularly at. So when the puppies start barking incessantly from the other room, Michael can only groan. 
A moment later, the doorbell rings. 
“No,” he grumbles and Alex whines. Neither of them make a move to leave the bed when the doorbell rings again. 
Michael looks over at Alex expectantly, and Alex’s only response is to wave at his leg, helplessly. 
Michael snorts. “Interesting how you are so ready to pull the disability card when it comes to things like this, but when you’ve been on your feet for hours and I’m offering you a chair, it’s all, ‘I can do anything anyone else can do, twice. Three times on Saturday.” 
Alex continues to smile at him until Michael rolls his eyes and gets out of bed. The moment he vacates his spot, Bell jumps into bed and cuddles up next to Alex. 
“Traitor,” Michael tells her, with no real malice behind it. He’s glad to see that she’s getting more comfortable with them both every week that she’s here. 
He slips into last night's jeans, zipping them up but ignoring the button. Whoever is at the door can deal with it. He’s not planning on being in his clothes for long. 
“Bring me a coffee on your way back,” Alex tells him with the most adorable smile that he doesn’t even flip him off playfully like he normally would at such a request. Instead he kneels on the bed and leans over Bell to give him a kiss. 
The doorbell rings a third time and the puppies go crazy. 
“Alright, I hear you,” he says, standing back up and heading out the door. 
He rubs his eyes and he makes his way through the house. He peeks into the kitchen. The moment the puppies see him, they start jumping over each other, trying to hop the baby gate to get out, barking to get his attention. 
“Give me a minute,” he tells them as he reaches the door. 
The doorbell rings again and Michael curses as he opens it, annoyed to see Isobel on the other side. 
“You couldn’t just use your powers to unlock the door yourself?” he grumbles, confused at the grocery bags in her hand. He’s 100% sure he didn’t agree to her coming over today.
“Your neighbor’s watching and being super creepy. I got nervous,” she says. 
Michael looks over her shoulder and rolls his eyes when he realizes who she is talking about. 
“Asshole,” he explains before raising his hand with a fake smile. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Register!” Through his teeth, he adds, for Isobel’s enjoyment, “not a single one of her flowers are gonna bloom this year. She reported us to the HOA last week.” 
“Why?” Isobel asks, perfect mix of annoyed and confused. “Your guys house could be the cover of Better Homes and Gardens.”
Mrs. Register glares at him before heading back into her house, at which point he flips her off. 
“She claims our fence is too tall,” he says, stepping out of the way so she can come inside. 
“Was it?” she asks, heading for the kitchen. The dogs go crazy when they enter. Isobel greets them all, pulling treats out of her pocket for them. Determined as ever to buy their affections. 
“No,” he says offended. “You think I would install a fence that wasn’t the proper height? I told her I’d cut it down if she wanted to see all the queer sex we have in the backyard. She’s a homophobic bitch who’s pissed off that I moved in.”
“So you moved in!” she asks, squealing in delight so loudly that he rolls his eyes. 
“No,” he answers quickly to cover up his slip. He’s certainly been calling Alex’s place home for weeks now, but he doesn’t live here. Not yet. Not until Alex brings it up. It was his space first and Michael doesn’t want to intrude or push too hard or too fast. “You know what I mean,” he says, hoping she’ll drop it. 
Thankfully she does. She starts unpacking her bags and he leans against the counter to watch. Trying to figure out what it is that she thinks she’s doing. He’s well past the days where he needed Isobel to stock his fridge for him. 
“So you did your little weed-o-magic curse on her?” she asks. 
“Trust me, the woman deserves far worse, but it’s all Alex will let me do,” he complains, taking the eggs from her and putting them in the fridge. 
“Well luckily, my orgasms don’t depend on being in Alex’s good graces.” Michael makes a face. He doesn’t want to hear about his sister’s orgasms. “I’ll let the air out of her tires on the way out.” 
He smiles at that. After some of the hateful things the lady has said to Alex and him, it’s what she deserves. “You’re my favorite sibling,” he says. 
“I know.” She smiles at him, patting his cheek lovingly. 
He hears the creak of the bedroom door open down the hall and sighs. If Alex is up, his hopes of crawling back into bed are slowly fading. 
“Are you going to explain why you’re waking us up on a Sunday?” he asks as Alex appears at the baby gate, puppies yelping to get out. Alex opens the gate and moves to the back door to let the dogs outside. 
“Everyone else is gonna be here in an hour. I figured I’d help you get the house ready,” she says. 
“Ready for what exactly?” Alex asks, returning to the kitchen. He leans against the counter and Michael shuffles over so that he can lean against him. 
“We’re having family brunch here,” she says, like it’s no big deal. 
“What?” he asks, as if he misheard her. He heard her just fine, but he doesn’t accept. He did not agree to this. 
“Our Sunday family brunch,” she says, like that somehow constitutes an explanation. 
He looks over at Alex who mutters, “I better go find pants.” 
“Oh I don’t know Captain Manes, I think you look delicious,” she says batting her eyelashes in a way that Michael knows is teasing but he still steps in front of Alex to shield him from her view. 
“Stop flirting with my boyfriend and get your own,” Michael tells her. Alex’s hands find their way around his waist and Micheal leans into the touch. 
“You’re no fun,” she says, turning back to put the rest of the groceries away. 
“Iz, explain,” Michael tells her. 
“We’re having brunch.” She smiles at him without an ounce of remorse even though Michael knows that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 
Alex snorts. 
“Okay, now explain it like we are 5,” Michael says, fighting back an amused smile. He is not going to be happy about this, no matter how hilariously persistent she is. She’s a brat and he isn’t going to encourage her. She’s ruining his Sunday. 
“You said that, under no circumstances, were you leaving this house today,” she tells him, crossing her arms, daring him to challenge her on her interpretation of his words. 
He shakes his head as Alex whispers, “I told you to not to leave her a loophole to climb through.” 
Michael looks over his shoulder at Alex, who is fighting back a smile, clearly having already settled on amused instead of annoyed. 
“I hate you,” he says, rubbing his face in defeat. 
“I love you, too,” she says with a laugh. “Now button up your pants and go find a shirt that isn’t covered in last night’s sexual activities. 
“It happened one time,” Alex grumbles into his ear and Michael laughs. 
“You’re doing all of the cooking and the cleanup,” Michael tells her. 
Isobel shrugs. “Done.” 
“We’re going to go get ready,” Michael says, taking Alex’s hand and walking out of the kitchen. 
On the way out, Alex turns to her and says, “We aren’t making a habit of this.” 
Isobel raises her hand in a salute and says, “Whatever you say, Captain.” 
The challenge in both Alex and Isobel’s eyes has Michael groaning. Michael lets the puppies back in and then heads back to the bedroom with Alex. 
“You shouldn’t goad her,” Michael complains. “If you give her a challenge, she won’t back down. She doesn’t know how to lose.” 
“Babe, I’ve been to actual war. I think I can handle your sister,” he says. 
Michael shakes his head. No matter what Alex may have seen in Iraq, he’s never really had to combat Isobel in full on event planning mode. 
“I’ll be sure to say nice things at your funeral,” Michael jokes. 
Bell whimpers at them as they start pulling clothes out of the closet. 
“Sorry girl,” Michael tells her. “We won’t be spending the day with you.” 
Bell turns her head to look at Alex, expression hopeful, if that’s even possible for a dog. 
Alex shakes his head. Bell puts her head back on the pillow and shimmies until the blanket is covering all of her. 
“She’s got the right idea,” Michael says with a laugh, trading out his old jeans for a clean pair. 
“It’s not so bad.” Alex sits on the bed to get his prosthetic on. 
“Isobel’s brunches from hell aren’t so bad?” Michael says, eyes going wide in comedic shock. “Did Alex Manes just admit that he likes a party?” 
“It’s not a party, it’s a family brunch,” he argues. “It’s kind of nice. You know?” 
Michael does know. It’s the kind of thing neither of them had growing up. 
“I still get to be mad about the lack of morning sex though, right?” 
Alex laughs. “Always.” 
Tagged: @callieramics​, @redstalkingdeath​ @alexmaanes
(wanna be tagged? hit me up)
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lesbian-deadpool ¡ 5 years ago
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Special Soul-mark
Part Two Of Two: I’m Glad It Was You
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Modern AU
Words: 1,138
Warnings: Talk about fights and past abusive situations, a stapeller to the hand. P sure that’s it.
Request: For the Anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires.
Summary: Don’t call it a bathing suit, she’ll kill you.
A/N: I honestly did not know what tf to do fr this part. So, I hope you guys like this.
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"She's my what now?"
Natasha laughed at Tony's words before her smile dropped from her face suddenly, and her laughter fell away.
"You're not being serious are you, Tony?"
"Of course I am," he smirked, sitting back behind his desk, gesturing for you to take the seat next to Natasha. Which you did, hesitantly.
"So," Tony started, "How did you like the recital?" he asked you.
"Yeah, It. It was great."
"You were there?" asked the beautiful red-head, who name you had just come to learn was 'Natasha'. It's a perfect name for her, really. Everything about her was perfect. Even the things you had yet to learn.
You surely hoped that Natasha truly was your soulmate.
"I was," you told her, nodding your head, "You were amazing."
"Thank you." Natasha smiled.
Your attentions were brought to Tony, as he cooed adoringly at you both.
"You two are so cute."
"That reminds me," you said, "What makes you think that we're soulmates?" you asked, waving a finger between you and the woman beside you.
"Ah! Well, I'm glad you asked-"
"Oh, God," you groaned flinging your head back. Natasha groaning beside you, placing her head in her hand.
"-It was a warm summers day-"
"Can we have the quick version, please?" Natasha demanded, rather than asked.
Tony hummed childishly, before sighing out a, "Fine. We'll do it your way... Basically. You both had matching bruises, on your middle fingers. From where you."He pointed in your direction. "Trapped it in the door. I asked Natasha about it, and she said it was off of her soulmate." Tony explained. "And she was pretty pissed off about it, too. Because she had a show that same day and had to cover it up with makeup."
Natasha chuckled inwardly, remembering the day with a fond smile.
"Yeah, but how can you be so sure?"
"Like this," Tony spoke. Then out of nowhere, there was a stapler colliding onto the back of your hand, where it rested upon his desk. Leaving two small blood-red pricks in its wake.
"Ow!" you exclaimed, reaching over to rub at your skin. You joked, "That's a lawsuit."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can say that, and thank me in your wedding toast." And with that, he pushed yours and Natasha's hands until they were pressed up, side by side each other. Showing the matching marks.
"Holy fuck," you breathed, looking up to see Natasha already watching you, with a bright smile stapled onto her face. One that clearly said, "I've finally found you".
That very same smile moving to take over your face.
"Ahh. I just love being a matchmaker," Tony sighed.
"And a detective, apparently."
***
Tony gave you the rest of the day off, so you could spend it with Natasha. To finally get to know your soulmate.
At long last.
After a short stroll in Central Park, you took a seat on the freshly cut grass, thankful that you had taken your hayfever medication that morning. Leaning back on your hands as you continued to talk with Natasha.
"So, wait. Hold on." Natasha raised her hands, stopping you in your tracks, mid-sentence. "That's the reason I had to walk around with, a black eye, my noes and lips busted, and more bruises than I could count, all over my face and body," she listed, as you smiled humorously, "All because you go pounded in dodgeball?"
"Yeah." You nodded. "It was like a wall of dodgeballs. Hurt like fuck, too."
"Yeah, no shit," she laughed.
"Hey! You can't say shit. Because I was fourteen and I had to go to school looking like I got the shit beat out of me."
"I did get the shit beat out of me."
Things got more serious after that. Natasha letting you in on some stuff about her past. But not going into the nitty-gritty details of it all, considering you were still practically strangers to one another. Soulmates of not.
She told you about the fight- Well, it wasn't actually a fight. She had gotten jumped by some kids that she went to school with, that lead to her nose being broken. The fight she had gotten into to defend herself and her little sister. And had almost offhandedly mentioned being adopted out of an abusive household, but she was quick to talk about other things. Which of course you understood.
That day was four months ago.
And you and Natasha had been together since that night when you had taken her out on your very first date.
Your family had been ecstatic that you had found Natasha, as was hers. Not to mention your brother was a cocky little shit because he was right all along. He would tease you something rotten.
Natasha played into it.
You hated that.
But you got your revenge, by teaming up with her sister and finding out every embarrassing thing you could about her, from her and her parents.
So, ha!
Two could play at that game... however you were dreading the next time you visited your family, and pulled the same thing.
But still, you couldn't believe your luck. To have a woman like this, be your soulmate. That's what you were thinking as you watched her stretching across the rehearsal room, where you willingly allowed her to drag you on your day off. You had been in the position many times before. And it always amazed you, just how flexible she was.
"How in the hell do you do that?"
"Do what?" Natasha smiled your way, as she had her leg pressed against her chest, from where it rested on the wooden bar by the mirror. "Stretch?"
"Yeah."
She chuckled, knowing exactly what you were getting at. Walking into the middle of the room, to continue with the rest of her stretches, she said, "A lot of hard work over the years."
Your eyes widened and your breath got caught in your throat, as you watched your girlfriend. Your very flexible girlfriend, bend over right in front of you. Her hands wrapped around her ankles while she inhaled deeply.
"You know exactly what you're don't you?"
Natasha smirked. "Of course I do. I've been dancing for years."
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
She sauntered towards you, her hips swaying with each movement. Drawing your eyes to her bare legs, all thanks to the black leotard she wore. Which looked exactly like a plain one-piece bathing suit. Bending over where you sat, Natasha's hands gripped your shoulders, and she leaned into an intimate kiss, pulling back just far enough to whisper against your lips.
"I know."
"God. I love you."
"I love you, too." She pated your shoulders. "Now watch me dance. And maybe I'll show you how flexible I am when we get home."
Fuck.
399 notes ¡ View notes
uwua3 ¡ 5 years ago
Note
Your writing is amazing! Like honestly! ✨ Can I request some yuki dating headcanons like with an s/o. If not I understand have a great day! 😊
thank you so much ♡ can i just say i love your support and enthusiasm for my writing 🥺 i always see you liking/replying to my posts and i am In Love With You i swear *thousands of hearts* thank you for everything~ but yes, of course! one super soft yuki hc coming up right away!!!
summary: yuki was yours and only yours, and he wanted to make sure everyone knew
author’s note: this was so sweet, it gave me multiple cavities! i’m sorry if it’s awkward, i’m not too experienced in the art of ~ love ~ even though i’m such a hopeless romantic! hope this was cute enough :D
i hope everyone knows relationships don’t make you whole, you are your own person. your s/o can help you improve to be the best version possible, but you are just as unique and interesting as an individual, never forget that ♡
word count: 1,803
music: Q&A – seventeen ft. ailee, hold your hand – lee hi
couple outfits.
🌻👘 rurikawa yuki
yuki didn’t just date anybody, let’s make that clear. in fact, yuki never dated anyone before you!
yuki liked you, so, so much. before he said anything, it physically hurt him to be so distracted by your presence when he had so many responsibilities
(it also hurt tenma when backstage, yuki forgot what he was doing and didn’t look where the needle was going when he became too entranced)
(“you idiot! stop staring at them for one second!” tenma yelped, not seeing yuki’s embarrassed blush before the two got caught in a petty argument once again. obviously, you had to play peacemaker)
but yuki was scared every time you looked at him and saw your stupid smile. you seemed so happy around him, and yuki could tell the signs before you even knew
you had to like him romantically, your hugs lingered and personality was made of sugar only around him
you were so obvious, you liked him and he was scared of messing everything up. it was so rare to find a good friend like you, was it worth it to risk everything?
before he even knew it, yuki was preparing a rejection because no person could come between him and his work (at least, that’s what he tried to reason it with)
but every time you looked at yuki, with all the affection in the world, he didn’t have the heart to say it
maybe, yuki didn’t want to say something he didn’t believe in
so the best solution was if he avoided the topic, you guys would be friends forever and nothing would have to go wrong
so when he confessed out of no where, yuki slapped his hands over his own mouth because he was such an idiot (for once)
you two were buying fabrics for the next mankai production, yuki happily browsing the store with the increased budget
yuki practically pulled you to the secluded corner, convincing you the store’s hidden gems were always in the piles of boxes about to be donated
when you found a discarded silk scarf hidden amongst the mixture, you looped it around your own neck and pretended like you were ali–baba, reciting the lines from water me! to get his attention
(you helped yuki practice his lines in the script so you were practically an understudy)
yuki already started ignoring your ridiculous tactics, about to tell you to shut up and help him find the perfect material when he turned around—you had it!
yuki rushed forward, unintentionally pulling you in close as he inspected the fabric’s qualities, not realizing how you were invading his personal space
“how did you even find this, you must be my...” yuki stumbled on his words, looking up to see you staring at him with such unmasked fondness, it made him become flustered
“your what?” you questioned, playfully smiling as you leaned forward, causing yuki to automatically pull back
(silly yuki! he forget he still had a death grip on the scarf as you followed him forward, holding out your arm on the wall nearby to prevent you two from falling)
yuki flinched, expecting the impact of the ground but opened his eyes to see you were leaning over him and was trapped between your arms
a beat of silence passed. yuki was about to let go before you moved in closer, innocently tilting your head as you had a cat���like cheshire grin
“tell me i’m yours, yuki~” you giggled, watching the way his face immediately turned red. any other person, he’d push off without a doubt. but he liked that you teased him so much, that you were so affectionate and open to him
yuki wish he didn’t like you so much
he knew you were joking, but,
yuki really did like you so much
“you’re mine. i want you to be mine.” yuki admitted, his expression forming one of shock as if he couldn’t believe what he said. how could he just confess that?! yuki shut his mouth, still against the wall as you blinked once. twice.
it didn’t take long before you fell back from laughter, bruising yuki’s ego as he crossed his arms and looked away, embarrassed
this is what he got for trying to be spontaneous and “in the moment”. yuki didn’t know what to expect, was he ready for this?
wait... what if he’s been reading all the signs wrong? oh my god, what if you didn’t even see him that way?!
“aish... don’t laugh... you’re so—” yuki felt the scarf get yanked around his wrist like a lasso and before he could react, it was you who pulled him in close this time
his hands landed on your shoulders, trying to balance himself but you kept him steady, putting your arms around his waist as you grinned like a little kid
“i like you, too.” you confessed, overwhelmed with happiness as yuki felt the same
yuki smiled and closed the distance, feeling like you two were in your own world
the fabric store was forever his favorite now, because it was the place he 1. found the perfect silk material for a costume (every time), 2. kissed you for the first time, and 3. had his first relationship start
from that point forward, you two entered a relationship full of mutual respect, care, and even love later on
(yuki said it first, surprisingly enough. but this time, it was on purpose)
yuki fantasized about being the dream couples he saw online in his pinterest board, reblogging couples outfits and creating a private folder he gazed at every once in a while
when you discovered this, you intentionally showed up wearing the same color scheme as yuki and the rest was history
once yuki saw you were just as excited and giddy to appear as a couple, yuki put his sewing skills to work as he made custom pieces he knew you’d love
you name it, you probably got it: matching berets with your signature color, pretty hair ribbons and bows, and for anniversaries/special events, yuki would work day and night to craft the outfit of your dreams
yuki loved expressing his affection through gifts because it was personally difficult to say he liked you without sounding like his default sarcastic state
every day was valentine’s day, by the way
so showing up with a huge, perfectly wrapped box or bag with colorful tissue paper that always correlated with the gift wasn’t out of the norm, yuki loved spoiling you~ (lucky you!)
if yuki saw something in the window on his way home that reminded him of you, he bought it without a second thought and watched your eyes lit up (so worth his empty wallet)
if yuki found a teddy bear that was the embodiment of all things soft and lovely, it was already at your door step with a handwritten letter he would never admit to writing
everything that made him happy started reminding yuki of you (you had to directly tell him to stop to prevent him from going broke)
any time yuki went out shopping, he took you because he liked seeing what your interests and dislikes were
yuki was very thoughtful and considerate, always paying attention to how you reacted to certain things outside of the fashion world as well
but you also watched him closely as well, and it allowed yuki to reveal his more vulnerable, insecure side when he found out you didn’t judge him and even, understood him
you also practiced doing couple’s PDA with him when you noticed how scared he got
you would initiate hand–holding, hugging, and doing small things like bending down to tie his shoes or any ribbon he had on his outfit; just casual contact to get him used to gentle touches that were more than just friendly now
it took a while, but yuki started returning the favor by fixing the accessories in your hair and even wore this tacky tenma bracelet you bought for him as a gag gift
(he hated it and the way tenma looked like some egotistical maniac, but it made you laugh every time. it was worth it) (maybe tenma’s dumb face was good for something)
it was also nice to hear genuine, real compliments everyday. you make it your goal to remind yuki of the small details you loved on his outfit, or how soft his hair was, and the way he presented himself just to show your attention was all his when you two were together
yuki would grow to trust you with his whole heart, feeling his own heart become candy because you were just so sweet
you stole his heart and never gave it back, and it was lovely to know you were taking great care of it and truly treasured him for him
between the two of you, you taught yuki how to trust and rely on other people despite his independent complex as he often put on a strong front
yuki would go to you first if he had a problem, which was hard at first but he got into the habit because he wanted to show you he cared
yuki would text you frequently asking about your day (newsflash, he actually does want to know) and would send you updates of any piece he was working on
you understood yuki prioritized his seamstress career and always proudly spammed his social media posts with heart emojis and adoring compliments
(he always had to hide and cover his face with his hands because he was so grateful you were so proud) (he never told you that, though)
even though he’d instantly get flustered and tried to deny them, you helped him believe them more and more everyday until he could confidently take anything on in the world
(“if my partner thinks it’s cute, i’m cute!” yuki loudly said to the mirror, hearing your laugh the next room over. oops)
you guys didn’t have to talk every single day, though, don’t get me wrong. you two always wanted the best for each other and defined healthy boundaries to allow both of you to flourish and prosper!
yuki, at first, always apologized for spending time on certain projects but you never accepted them, instead encouraging him even more and praising his work ethic
yuki still sent you links throughout the day of things to try and cute outfits he’d love to see you in
it was so thoughtful that throughout the day, you were always on his mind even if he was busy
but no matter what, you two always supported one another through your endeavors and did everything 100% with each other’s best interests at heart
you really liked yuki, and he liked you back just as much, maybe even a little more
(okay, definitely a lot more)
197 notes ¡ View notes
magioftheseas ¡ 4 years ago
Text
A.I. to AI
Summary: Post-SDR2.5 AU in while a certain Alter Ego and a certain Ultimate Lucky still have some difficulties moving forward.
Rating: T
Warnings: Emetophobia (mild)
Notes: Hhhhhh, World Destroyer/Komaeda...good...and yet so rare. So, here it is. Have fun.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
Komaeda Nagito is
Capricious
Stubborn
Frustrating
Unstable
Desperate
Hopeless
Lovely
Problematic
Through many deep dives, Alter Ego is confident in identifying Komaeda Nagito’s character. As confident as a program can be, although it was not the prerogative to know and understand Komaeda Nagito. The mission was simply to retrieve Komaeda Nagito, the last of the remnants.
It had taken many deep dives. Many methods had to be used. Some involving direct contact from the start, and others requiring more distance, more detachment. All the same, there had been many confrontations.
It is not Alter Ego’s mission to know and understand Komaeda Nagito, but with how much time spent in Komaeda Nagito’s dreamscape, it was inevitable to take notice of and learn such things.
When Komaeda Nagito was extracted—the mission was complete.
That was it.
It was over.
--
It should have been over.
“World Destroyer-kun! Alter Ego-kun! Destroyer-kun? Ego-kun? Which would you prefer I call you?”
“I have no preference.”
“I do know another Alter Ego-san,” Komaeda was saying. Acting sweet and cheerful. As if there isn’t somewhere else he should be. “The one made by the Ultimate Programmer. They’re much more polite and pleasant than you are.”
“And yet, I am the one you are speaking to.”
Komaeda laughs, smiling without care. But there are signs of tension from the tightness of his shoulders to even the way his elbow dug into the table’s surface with his chin pressing down hard into his fleshy palm. Only the mechanical limb was able to remain completely still.
“You are troubled,” is the obvious observation to make. “I presume it is about the other remnants and my master.”
“Your presumptions would be correct,” Komaeda says. His smile is twitching around the corners. The typical sign of contradictory emotions. Of admiration and irritation. “If you already know, then I don’t have to explain anything, right?”
“Explanations would be...” A pause. “Unnecessary.”
Komaeda seems pleased with that answer, but somewhere in the back of Alter Ego’s coding was the curious thought if that had been the correct response.
How irritating.
--
Among the methods, there had been direct contact. Komaeda Nagito does not remember this, but these attempts are in fact stored in Alter Ego’s data banks. If one knew how to dig, the footage of those attempts could be replayed. All taken from Alter Ego’s vacant gaze at the time.
A gaze that caught Komaeda Nagito in a state of shock. Which had observed and scrutinized the way Komaeda Nagito shrank in on himself, pulling further and further away from the program’s prodding.
“I’m already at peace, so don’t bother me anymore,” Komaeda Nagito had said. “You’re—an annoyance.”
Irritating.
--
 “Destroyer-kun!”
“Is that the name you have decided on?”
“If you have a problem with it, just say so!”
“I have nothing to say.”
Once again, Komaeda Nagito has visited. How did Komaeda Nagito even find this place?
The answer was obvious.
(“It was just good luck!” Komaeda Nagito had exclaimed, looking so unbearably joyful. “And after spraining my wrist...! It was only a matter of time before something good happened!”)
“I made my own coffee today,” Komaeda was saying now. “It was so awful! So brutal! A truly contemptible and pitiful attempt! I got so sick that I threw up in the sink!” His spirited performance turned downcast in a heartbeat. “Koizumi-san was quite cross with me. According to Owari-san, the smell was so awful.”
“Yes, bile does have a stench,” was the dry, unimpressed response. “The odor gets worse depending on what was ingested.”
“Oh, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda mourns. “I just keep messing up around them. No matter what I do, I can’t help being wretched!”
“That mistake...was hardly serious.”
For some reason, Komaeda’s distraught expression was troubling. Had he, a program, developed a bias? A proximity bias? If so, that was a bug.
One that his master needed to patch out. His master would have to be informed. Informed of the displeased reaction that comes about simply because Komaeda Nagito is distressed.
“It’s not just that mistake,” Komaeda sighs next. “It’s—surely you know the saying. The straw that breaks the camel’s back?”
“I am aware, but that perspective is flawed.” It was aggravating. Truly aggravating. Perhaps not a mere bug but a virus in how vicious this sensation became. “You are not...”
The sensation gets aggressive. It threatens to consume the entire system. It gets to the point where he needs to be reset, but—
Komaeda is...
“I’m sorry,” Komaeda is apologizing. Komaeda gives such a miserable smile. “I’m troubling you, aren’t I?”
“No.” Immediate. Almost panicked. “No, Komaeda...”
“Ah.”
Komaeda blinked at him. His expression changed. Eyes went wide, mouth parted open. An expression of surprise.
“...I didn’t think a program could make an expression like that.” Then, a laugh. “Oh, wait, what am I even saying? You’re not even the first advanced artificial intelligence I’ve ever met.”
Komaeda seemed taken aback but tickled nonetheless. When faced with something incomprehensible, it was...understandable to simply take it in bewildered stride.
“I meant to reassure you,” he realizes now. “But it appears I am inadequate at such a task.”
“It’s alright,” Komaeda says with such sincerity. “Just your intent rather warmed my heart, Destroyer-kun. You’re such a kind person. I wonder who you got that from...?”
Komaeda ponders this as if he doesn’t already know the answer. As if that very answer doesn’t cause Komaeda’s smile to falter.
“Thank you, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda says next, and it will have to do for now.
--
Komaeda visits him regularly. Not every interaction is worth remembering, but he finds that he perks up regardless. Sometimes, Komaeda won’t converse much; instead just settling down in the chair with a coffee. Sipping demurely and rubbing exhaustion from his eyes. The only sounds that transpired would be Komaeda’s breathing, the whirl of his robotic arm, and the buzzing of the program.
Komaeda would finish his coffee, give him a simple smile, would leave, and repeat.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
And then, Komaeda lays his head down in front of him.
“Let me rest for a bit,” he tiredly requests. Silence is taken as acquiesce, and it isn’t long before Komaeda Nagito drifts off into slumber.
It’s strange.
That position is not comfortable, and yet, Komaeda Nagito sleeps with ease. Perhaps the other had simply been exhausted—but perhaps Komaeda Nagito felt secure here. With only a mere AI for company, Komaeda Nagito was relaxed.
But not as relaxed as he had been in the program, surrounded by friends who cared for him and encased by a world designed to keep him safe.
He does wonder if Komaeda Nagito yearns for that place despite having verbally dismissed it in the past. He likely does. Komaeda Nagito may have been sincere in the thoughts and feelings he expressed, but he wasn’t very honest to himself. What a frustrating contradiction.
And, yet, the artificial intelligence that has long since fulfilled its objective...cannot help but find this person fascinating.
Fascinating and lovely.
How could something like this happen?
--
He watches Komaeda Nagito sleep.
He watches Komaeda Nagito sleep.
He watches Komaeda Nagito sleep.
Komaeda Nagito sleeps.
Komaeda Nagito does not wake up even when the door opens.
“So this is where he is,” his master sighs. His master looks a bit ragged but also relieved to see Komaeda’s hunched shoulders. No matter the occasion, his master strides forward with grace and purpose. His master then lightly takes those hunched shoulders.
“Do you plan to awake him?” he asks, and it is strange, isn’t it, to have this be the first question he has asked his master in so long. “He has been sleeping well up until now.”
His master flinches the slightest bit even though that response should have been expected. Perhaps, his master is fatigued enough to impair his instincts.
“I...” His master swallows. Nervously. “I do know that he’s been visiting you as of late... Alter Ego.”
Alter Ego is not surprised to hear this. Obviously, his master would have known. Why, then, does his master look so uncertain?
“Master,” he says and asks with all the grace that can be generated from a machine, “Are you feeling insecure?”
There is a reason why there is no such thing as a ballerina android. Subsequently, this is why artificial conductors are much more inefficient for orchestras than human ones are.
“That obvious, huh,” his master mutters as if the dryness of the question had rubbed him raw. His master sighs. Inhale, exhale. His master regards his creation with brief disdain before it’s blinked away, leaving behind a vulnerable, insecure human.
A human which is still more capable than a machine.
“Komaeda really likes you,” that human says, like he can’t believe it or understand it either. “Komaeda would rather be around you than anyone else. Including me.”
“It...” Alter Ego processes this, and finally, finally, he comes to a logical explanation. “It is not about liking me. It is about the simulation of companionship with none of the expectation nor the baggage. Komaeda Nagito is lonely, but he fears intimacy. With a mere program, he has nothing to fear.”
The human—Hinata Hajime, Kamukura Izuru, no, simply his master—blinks at him.
“I suppose that is one explanation,” he says slowly. “But, it’s never that simple. Not with people, and especially not with Komaeda.”
“That seems like a generalization, master,” Alter Ego points out.
“It is, but... Urgh. You’re basically saying that Komaeda finds you unfulfilling, which is a bit...” His master shook his head. “That... Do you really know for sure if that’s true?”
...
Machines are not designed to feel pain. And he in particular was not given the capacity to come even close to pain due to his purpose. To feel pain himself would have been counterproductive. His master had known that. Thus, his master had taken great pains to ensure that he would never feel pain.
Still, Alter Ego had paused and mulled that painful question over.
“It is a sound explanation,” he decides on, but his gaze lingers on Komaeda Nagito.
Komaeda Nagito, who murmurs so softly in his sleep. Smacks his lips. Looks at peace.
“I guess it is beyond your capacity for understanding.”
Alter Ego snaps back to attention. His master regards him coldly and warily. Irritated and insecure. Since he understands his master, it does not bother him.
“If Komaeda Nagito thinks himself fond of me...”
He is mistaken.
That is what Alter Ego should say, but for one reason or another, he can’t bring himself to continue.
It doesn’t matter. His master can fill in the blanks, and given by the way his brow furrows and his expression darkens, his master does just that.
Soon after, though, his master’s look softens.
“It’s a good thing,” he sighs. “It’s great that Komaeda’s not completely keeping to himself and that he’s socializing at all, but... I just wish he’d give us another chance. Sure, not everyone’s willing to welcome him back but... We should get the opportunity to try, right?”
“You cannot force him,” Alter Ego points out. “Komaeda Nagito is not obligated. He should approach you because he wants to.”
Not to mention—
“If you respect his feelings, you should not be having this conversation that he can overhear.”
His master laughs. It’s harsh and lacking mirth, but when his master turns his attention to Komaeda and pats his shoulder, he’s nothing short of gentle. Gentle while wearing a melancholy smile.
“Both of us would be able to see right through him,” his master says. “It’s taken a lot, but I think I understand him well enough.” Idly, almost without thinking, his master moves his hand from Komaeda’s shoulder to card through the fluffy white strands. “I’ll help the others understand, too. So that when he’s ready...”
His master trails off. His master stops. His master shook his head.
“Komaeda...will end up hurting his neck if he sleeps like this. I’m gonna take him to his room, okay?”
His master hoists up Komaeda Nagito with ease. Holds him close and secure. Gives Alter Ego one last wry smile before heading out.
Alter Ego simply watches him go.
--
“Destroyer-kun, do you think I could speak to you in person?”
Komaeda fidgets. He’s visibly sheepish.
“Did something happen?” is asked in return instead of giving a proper response.
“It’s not that I dislike talking to a screen, but I’d like...” Komaeda trails off, his cheeks pink. He sputters softly, jaw working on the words he can’t bring himself to say. “That is...if it’s okay with you... Obviously I understand if...mm...”
“Is that really what you want?”
“Yes!” Komaeda’s chirpy response was immediate. “But is that okay?”
It would be best to decline.
“It is fine. There just has to be a degree of setup first. Follow my instructions closely, Komaeda Nagito.”
“O-Oh I don’t want to risk breaking anything.”
“It is fine. Even the total destruction of this island wouldn’t be the end of my existence.”
“Ooh!” Komaeda lights up. “Just like Hinata-kun and Kamukura-kun, then!”
Komaeda looks so happy.
It’s dazzling even with a screen in-between, but he is durable so it will be fine.
It has to be.
--
“Hey. Can you hear me?”
Komaeda Nagito wakes up on the beach.
“...Destroyer-kun?”
Komaeda Nagito blinks up at him owlishly but when he takes his hand, it’s with a desperate grip.
“It worked,” he breathes. “It really...”
“I had thought the setting being the same as the initial Neo World Program would be easiest to work with,” is explained as Komaeda Nagito is helped up. “How long do you plan to stay here?”
“Not long, I just...” Flushing, Komaeda is smiling so wide it looks painful. Yes. It is difficult to take, and yet—it is nice. “I wanted to talk to you. But...”
Komaeda Nagito does not let go of the other hand. If anything, he grips that hand even tighter.
“I...wanted it to be like this. Selfish, right?”
“It is human. But—if you wished for intimacy, my master...” Strange. He ends up trailing off. “My master...”
Komaeda Nagito squeezes his hand briefly. Once again.
“I’m not like that with them yet,” he said. Softly. But, in a way where significance ran underneath the words. Tucked under that light, airy chucker. “Destroyer-kun is my only friend for now.”
“I...”
Strange.
The words.
Wouldn’t—
“But even when I do manage to muster up my courage, I’m not going to forget you,” Komaeda went on, promised—seriously, this guy—“Destroyer-kun. The last thing I want is for you to be lonely.”
“I...do get lonely.” He blinked. Multiple times. “When I think of how you should be with your peers, I get lonely.”
“You’ll come with me,” Komaeda said suddenly. “We’ll work to better ourselves together. You’re much too capable to simply be left to rot.”
“My purpose is fulfilled.”
“Helping the world is surely more fulfilling than talking with me,” Komaeda says so easily with such assertion. “It’s no good to be so aimless, Destroyer-kun! Let’s do our best! You can even talk to other AI! We’ll both be among our peers, but we’ll still be friends, too...”
He wondered if that would truly be the case. It seemed silly that someone called the World Destroyer could build relationships with others—and yet...his relationship with Komaeda Nagito was undeniable.
Perhaps, it would be fine?
No.
It had to be fine.
“We can’t stay like this,” he realizes. “The world is open to us, and we must go there.”
“Yes,” Komaeda agreed, melancholy but resolute. “We’ll go together. You helped me out of the program, so I feel wretched for continuing to ask for your support, but...”
“You are offering yours in return, Nagito,” he said. “It’s fine.”
Komaeda smiles so brilliantly that it was too much for the simulation and the program. But, he shone with a hope that made the World Destroyer smile once again.
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