#the eyes are all wrong as per usual but maybe his eyes get lighter with age 🤷��♀️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtanintotheroom · 7 months ago

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On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

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victorluvsalice · 1 year ago

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Sims 4 Valicer Outfit Fun II -- CC Edition

We interrupt your regularly-scheduled Chill Valicer Save updates with another "watch me play dress-up with my OT3 in Sims 4" post, courtesy of me downloading a bunch of custom content outfits a few weeks ago and having period brain this past weekend. :p Sometimes you gotta keep it simple, you know? Anyway, here's some new outfits for Smiler, Victor, and Alice, all with a lovely CC bent --

First up, Smiler in an outfit from @the-crypt-o-club's 2022 Simblrween offering, Angsty Adolescence! The half-plain-black, half-black-and-yellow-checked pants were a MUST -- they remind me a bit of what Agent Joytide was wearing during the Smiler Takeover! The alternating yellow-and-black plastic bracelets also felt very appropriate to The Smiler's general theme, and of course I had to give them the yellow sneakers with the happy face and rainbow doodles and the cute Freezer Bunny t-shirt in yellow. XD I think Smiler's also sporting some custom eye make-up, though I don't know if that's from this particular pack or one of The Crypt-O-Club's other Simblrween offerings. Looks good, though -- great for a party outfit!

Next up, let's have a Victorian Smiler, courtesy of @simmerofthedawn and their Men's Day Wear set from Part One of their Victorian Collection! This is a great set of men's suits, in both darker colors for Autumn/Winter and lighter palettes for Spring/Summer, so you'll always have a suit appropriate to the season! Plus they made a copy of the Vampires top hat and gave it SO many more swatches -- "33 shades" as per their own post! Seriously, the set is worth downloading just for THAT ALONE in my opinion. I naturally had to put Smiler in the swatch that contained the most yellow, and that proved to be this particular outfit -- even if the colors are a tad more muted than I'd like. Still, they look snazzy, and it is SO NICE to have a top hat that matches their outfit perfectly! :D

We now move onto Victor's section, featuring him in his Crypt-O-Club outfit -- or, at least, one of their Freezer Bunny shirts from the Angsty Adolescence collection, in a kicky blue. I'm not 100% sure on the shorts and shoes, though I would GUESS they're also CC, as that's what I was mainly working with during this "playing dress-up in CAS" section. *shrug* Either way, he looks pretty nice -- I think this would be a good "workout" look for him!

Back to Simmer Of The Dawn's Men's Day Wear for this picture, with Victor showing off one of the darker swatches for his outfit. In fact, I chose this particular outfit because it's actually as close to a "canon" Victor outfit as I'll probably ever get! The top half isn't quite right -- wrong type of necktie, waistcoat fastens too low down, coat tails are too long -- but it's still good, and the pants are REALLY good. Maybe a BIT dark, but still REALLY close to Victor's canon trousers. I approve. :D

And while we're on the "Victor in actual Victorian clothes" train, here's Victor sporting a suit from Simmer Of The Dawn's Victorian Collection Part Four -- the Men's Day Suit collection! These also come in darker tones for Autumn/Winter and lighter ones for Spring/Summer, and feature higher waistcoats, slightly different tails on the coats, and bow ties. Victor's in a Spring/Summer light blue ensemble because I thought it looked nice on him and fit his usual color scheme, paired with a pretty gray top hat. Perfect for a promenade around town!

The top hat from Simmer Of the Dawn remains, but we move onto a different creator for this outfit (minus the gloves and shoes) -- Historical Sims Life on blogspot, with their Boldness Beckons outfit converted from Sims 3! This is a nice, more wintery look for Victor, bundled up with a thick neck scarf against the cold. :) He looks very smart indeed!

And finally, we end on a couple of Alice outfits, starting again with Crypt-O-Club's stuff! Alice here is sporting a dress from I believe the DIY Or Die fan pack -- what can I say, it looked really good on her! The shoes are another swatch of the Angsty Adolescence Converse (seriously, I love those, with all the fun doodles all over them -- you can customize them for any personality), while the stockings should ALSO be Angsty Adolescence, but might be from another pack -- I've downloaded ALL their "fan made stuff packs" at this point, so. . . XD Still, it's a great "punk princess" look for her I feel!

And as for the Victorian look, I found this by @vintagesimstress -- the 1890s Working Girl Mini-Set! A couple of blouses and a trio of skirts based off what working-class ladies wore in the 1890s, as indicated -- Alice is wearing the shortest of the three skirt lengths because I like being able to see her feet. XD The set also comes with an apron overlay that you can put on as an "accessory" (under the "tights/stocking" option), but I forgot to put that on ^^;. Still, it's nice to see Alice in a classic Victorian blouse and skirt! Even if it's a bit weird to see her in anything that long. XD

And there we have it! I hope you enjoyed this CAS post -- NEXT week, back to the Chill Valicer Save and the store!

#sims 4 #looks #fashion #smiler alton #smiler always #victor van dort #alice liddell #custom content #yeah I went on a bit of a downloading spree in August and grabbed a bunch of Victorian men's clothes #and the crypt-o-club stuff as mentioned #what can I say I wanted to give my Sims new looks XD #(plus I was working on Sim versions of my OTHER coaster OCs for the other Alton Towers rides #and the Crypt-O-Club stuff in particular seemed well-suited for them #once I've got my designs a bit more finalized I'll show those off!)#really pleased with the Victorian suits #it's hard to find good clothes for male Sims sometimes!#but these come in a bunch of nice swatches :D #and seriously if nothing else get the top hat recolors #you will thank me for having more top hat options for your fancy Sims #queued

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rillabrooke · 2 years ago

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ok posting this not because i want y’all to see it but because i need the image urls. today i won a battle with artbreeder. look at this child (and the parents).

#he has squishable cheeks and that's all that matters #i open that stupid ai site about once every two years and every time i remember why i hate it so much #the eyes are all wrong as per usual but maybe his eyes get lighter with age 🤷‍♀️#salamangka: my post #asiah / isaiah maruta #moonshine / diana maruta #syaitan / samuel moretti #salamangka

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owo-shenanigans · 3 years ago

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This is a, hm, fan continuation of a fic written by another incredible writer called . Absolutely check them out if you haven’t followed them already. I got so caught up in the euphoria of reader escaping, I forgot that all of their fics end in tragedy. @yandere-daydreams , thank you for permission to post this. I really hope you enjoy.

A Cold Gaze

(CWs; injuries, kidnapping, serious anger, mentions of attempted murder and pain, revenge. Hopefully cathartic.)

Word Count: 1734

Kaeya was careful.

Extremely careful.

You had known that, of course, but knowing didn’t make the sting of failure any lighter. You had assumed that his checking of every lock before he left and before he went to bed would lead him to believe that you would never escape, and thus if you managed to, you would easily convince the leader of the knights to help you.

You were wrong. You had assumed wrong, and suffered for it.

You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Even now, you were leaning against him, Kaeya reading aloud from a book you were too irritated to actually listen to. His voice was like camomile tea- calming to others, but all it did was make you antsy and irritable.

“I can tell you’re disappointed, dearest.” His voice changed from the lilted tone he had been voicing the dialogue with to what you were used to- heavy with a hidden message. “But it’s dangerous out there. When you leave this house, I can’t protect you. You could get hurt, or die, or get abducted-”

“Oh, so what is it that you did to me?” You forced yourself out of his hold, turning to stare daggers at him. “No, I’m curious what you would define what you did as. What do you think carrying me from the bar is? Me waking up in chains with no idea where I am-”

“It’s protecting you.” His hand grips your wrist and it burns, steam rising from the frost spreading over your skin. “Without me, who knows what would happen to you?”

“Better off, even if I were dead.” Your tone is as frosty as his vision even when tears come to your eyes from the pain. It intensifies before cutting off, his hand slowly leaving your wrist.

“We can talk later. I see that you’re still upset from last week.” Kaeya rises from the bed and places a kiss to your forehead before you can react, slipping out the door. Hearing a heavy click from outside, you know it's been locked per his usual.

You also know that he’s ordered new locks and chains. You had wasted your chance at happiness by being stupid enough to trust the knights. If you stayed any longer, any future chances would be nonexistent.

You would rather strangle yourself in your chains than let that happen.

You didn’t know how the Archons granted visions.

Everyone had theories, of course. Some said it was based on looks (no one knew an ugly vision holder), others said it was based on ideals, and a few said that it was based on who would get the most use out of it. The first few weeks you’d been caged up in that tiny room, being fed stale water and old bread because every time he took you out you tried to claw at his face, you had prayed to the Archons for every second that you could, then every god you could think of and even those you couldn’t name.

None of them had helped, whether by sending saviors or a vision to put you on equal footing as your captor. Maybe Kaeya had put anti-Archon runes in his house. It wouldn’t surprise you, you knew the knights snapped up the smartest minds in Mondstat.

The one you had prayed the longest and hardest to was Barbatos. The Archon of freedom who had led a revolution against the god holding his city hostage- you figured he would be your patron god. It hadn’t worked. You ascribed to the idea that he was dead and up in Celestia, at this point. No one had seen him in so long, and even with the anemo visions still being handed out you couldn’t believe he was still able to move and yet wouldn’t help you.

If they wouldn’t help, you would force them to.

In the dark of night, you thought to yourself.

Kaeya lay next to you, sleeping soundly and clutching his vision. The night before you had apologized, careful not to lay it on too thick but still convince him that you had given in. That you, perhaps, maybe, had decided that while you wished he had actually spoken to you about dating, you knew he was trying to help.

The words tasted like bile, and you knew he had been searching your face for any hint of deception. But living with him had its advantages, and he had found nothing. His face fell into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile. Your teeth nearly cracked from how set your jaw was.

You lay there, and thought. Ideally you would strangle him, that method merely requiring your hands and strength. You didn’t know where the keys to get out were, though, and that was disregarding any number locks. At the least it would take you a few days to guess the codes and find the keys, and you wouldn’t be able to get out of Mondstat before they dragged you up on trial for his murder. And that was disregarding how he would wake up and stop you before you got far enough.

Poison would be simple and easy, but it was impossible to get your hands on any. He wouldn’t keep any foods he was allergic to, and all the rat poison was locked up in a closet along with everything else ‘too dangerous’ for you.

Stabbing would be brutal and efficient, but he didn’t let you into the kitchen, as last time you’d persuaded him to let you in ‘to cook’, when you found out there weren’t any knives you’d attempted to stab his eyes out with a fork. After that he only let you use spoons and knives with softened edges, which was one of the most insulting things you’d experienced.

Your eyes were drawn to his vision again, the light from inside seeming to shine brighter than before. You would love to use it against him, but that’s never happened.

Even so, when you finally go to sleep his vision turns in your mind, the light getting brighter and brighter until your dreamscape was as white as a blizzard, a feminine voice cold as ice saying words you couldn’t make out.

You woke up with blue fingers and had to hurry to keep Kaeya from noticing and making assumptions.

The dreams continued, and they stuck to your head. You were waking up colder and colder, and you were forced to consider the possibility that your body was shutting down and giving up. Kaeya was much more touchy feely than he had ever been, his relief at your giving in overriding his knowledge that it shouldn’t have been easy. Not that he would stop locking the house up like an Inazuman port before bed and whenever he left in the mornings, of course. No matter what you did you were sure you wouldn’t be leaving the house without being handcuffed to him.

Your deadline was fast approaching. You knew that the shipments had been delayed by monster attacks- and if you knew what they were called, you would have started praying to the abyssal gods as a last ditch effort- but the new deadbolts and chains he ordered would get here eventually. Your time would be up.

The dreams were starting to get deeper and deeper, the voice echoing worse and worse and louder and louder. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that they meant something. They had to. You were already suffering in your daylight hours- suffering in your dreams was too cruel a fate for anyone, especially you.

Tonight, there wasn’t a blizzard in your head. You were in the middle of a densely wooded forest, covered in the thickest layer of snow you’d ever seen. The chill was unimaginable- it was far worse than when Kaeya lost his temper.

“Take it.”

The voice rang out and your head shot up from staring down at the snow. The stillness in the air finally lets you see who’s been speaking all this time. It’s a woman dressed in furs, taller than even Kaeya with cold blue eyes.

“Take it.” She repeats, and you know what she means. “I cannot take it myself. It will hurt. But if you master it… Make your way to Snezhnaya. I will protect you. This is your trial.”

“I will. I will.” You repeat to yourself, and the chill that’s bone deep fades from your feelings. You’ll do it. You’ll do it or die trying.

Your eyes blink open and you turn to your right, limbs still freezing but ignored all the same. Kaeya’s grip on his vision is still tight, but as he shifts and turns towards you, it loosens for a second.

And a second is all you need.

You swipe it from his hands and bite through your tongue at the sheer cold that blows out, frost forming on your body. No. You refuse to fail now, with the support of a god- your god- behind you. The taste of metal in your mouth grounds you and the light inside the vision swirls around manically.

Kaeya finally wakes up, the sleepiness vanishing from his face in a blink as it fills with terror. “No, don’t-!”

“I refuse,” you begin with a trembling voice, “I refuse to be controlled by you ANY LONGER! WHETHER THAT MEANS I DIE, I DON’T CARE! So long as you die too, I don’t give a fuck what happens to me.”

He reaches out and you scream, the noise ripping itself from your throat, and the world turns white.

“His partner is obviously the cause of this.” Lisa stares at the house frozen inside an iceberg. “They’re missing along with his vision. And Kaeya….”

“I have no idea.” Jean looks up from the clipboard with a heavy frown on her face. “Cryo users have a history of being more immune to the cold, but this… We’ve never had a vision successfully stolen. His blood is frozen. I have no idea if even Barbara can save him.”

“Why would they do this? Where did they even go? Such a mentally hurt person couldn’t have gotten far.”

Jean shakes her head, murmuring an order to another knight. “I have no idea. No matter their mental state, they need to be held responsible. Whoever would hurt such a respected Knight of Favonius is a monster.”

#yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #yandere kaeya #kaeya x gender neutral reader

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lxvislxdy · 4 years ago

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Shotgun Kisses pt.2 | Bakugou K.

Links: Bakugou x stoner!reader au & Shotgun Kisses (Read these first!!)

Notes: Firstly, I want to thank you all for the positive feedback my work has been receiving! I’m extremely thankful for ya’ll!! I also want to apologize for the delay in my posting; I’ve been traveling this week, and on top of that, dealing with the gas shortage on the east coast (it’s been HELL). But hopefully things will start picking up again soon! As always, my requests are open, so feel free to send in your requests or questions!

Summary: After apologizing to you, Bakugou is still struggling to get over his mistrust of your coworker, Shinsou. When you invite Shinsou to hang with everyone, Bakugou thinks it will be his final straw. That is, until Shinsou makes a move on someone unexpected. And suddenly, everything makes much more sense, and Bakugou looks completely oblivious.

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warning(s): 18+!! drug use, language (if you are underage, this fic is not for you!)

Bakugou was trying.

He really, really was.

He trusted you, and he hated fighting with you (especially when it was his fault, and he had to apologize), but damnit, that purple haired bastard wasn’t making it easy on him. Still, Bakugou was making an effort, and that meant he was visiting you at work, even though Shinsou was there, too.

“Hello,” Shinsou drawled, a lazy, but definitely teasing, grin spread across his lips. He was leaned up against the counter, half of his purple hair tied back in a knot at the back of his head. “How can I help you?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath in like Kirishima had taught him. His hands were wound into fists, shoved into his jacket pockets. “Just my regular.”

Shinsou hummed in response, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Y/n! Your loverboy is here!”

Bakugou grit his teeth, willing himself not to snap back at him. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. But he hated the teasing lilt to the other man’s voice.

As per usual, his anger melted away - mostly - when you popped your head around the corner, from the storage room, smiling brightly. “’Suki!”

As much as Bakugou hated your job, you did look cute in your apron, and he was admittedly fond of the free coffee.

You bounced over to him, definitely hyped up on too much caffeine, and wrapped your arms around him. “Hi.” You said, looking up at him.

He squeezed you against him, pulling you in for a kiss, to your surprise. Normally, Bakugou was hesitant when it came to PDA. Of course, the cafe was almost empty, and it wasn’t much of a secret that Bakugou was turning up the heat in front of Shinsou.

“You want your usual?” You ask sweetly, when he pulls away, dopey grin on your face.

Shinsou, who had slipped away during the kiss, calls over his shoulder, “Already on it!”

“Try not to spit in it.” Bakugou says, lowly.

Shinsou lets out a low chuckle, “I’ll try to contain myself.”

Apparently, this banter is friendly enough, because you laugh along with him.

“You mind if I take my break now, ‘Toshi?”

Bakugou swallows down the burst of jealousy at the nickname, fists tightening in his pocket.

“Yeah, no problem,” Shinsou tells you, as he sets the coffee down on the counter. “There you go. One coffee, hazelnut cream, no sugar. Extra bitter, just like you.”

Bakugou sneers at him, snatching the coffee from the counter and grabbing your hand to pull you along behind him. The two of you end up in the alleyway behind the shop, sneaking through the ‘employees only’ door. Bakugou sips the coffee, wishing it wasn’t so good. But damn, if Shinsou didn’t know his coffee. As far as Bakugou was concerned, that was the only thing the guy was good at. (Of course, he didn’t really know him that well, at all).

“You’re very broody today.” You say softly, looking over at him from where you leaned against the brick wall. “Something on your mind?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, sipping his coffee again. “M’fine. Just... tired, that’s all.”

You hum, fumbling with one of your bracelets. You gaze up at him, grinning, “Do I need to call Kirishima to get it out of you?”

“Tch,” He scoffed, marching over to where you stood and leaning down over you. “Smartass.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You both taste like coffee, and Bakugou recognizes the faint, bitter taste of marijuana on your tongue too. He pulls away, raising a brow.

“What, rolling up before work, you delinquent?”

You giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully, though it’s not enough to move him away from you. “Maybe. Gonna rat me out?”

“Hm,” His lips barely brush against yours, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m sure you could convince me not to.”

“Yeah? That easy, hm?” You say, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls just out of your reach. You pout, and he laughs lowly.

“I never said it would be easy.” He answers, smirking.

You feel your breath hitch again, and his lips are back on yours.

“Mm, Kats, love you, but I need to get back to work.” You mumble in between kisses.

Bakugou nips your bottom lip, but concedes, pulling away with a sigh. “Sure I can’t keep you occupied just a little while longer?”

“And people say I’m the bad influence.” You tease, laughing. “Sorry, babe. Can’t. Besides, I know you’re supposed to be getting lunch with the guys, and I’m not gonna be responsible for making you late.”

“Screw ‘em.” He says, planting another kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You smile up at him, shaking your head. “What am I gonna do with you, Bakgou Katsuki?”

“Keep me, I hope.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it came out much more serious than he’d meant. Thankfully, you don’t press him on it.

“Yeah, and what’s in it for me?” You tease, poking his stomach. You stretch up on your tiptoes to place another kiss on his jaw, voice softer than before, “I’m here till you don’t want me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou kisses the top of your head, “That’ll never happen.”

You turn to go back inside, stopping in the doorway to look back at him. “You coming to Sero and Denki’s tonight?”

“We’ll see.” Bakugou grunts.

“Mhm,” You grin. “I’ll see you there, then. Bye, Kats!”

...

By the time Bakugou shows up, he’s the last one there. Even Jirou, infamous for showing up fashionably late to their hangouts, was already inside, sitting with you and Mina on the floor. The three of you were deep in conversation, clearly already more than buzzed - your giggles and half-lidded eyes gave you away.

Bakugou felt the tug of a smile on his lips, watching you. He was glad the day was over. Finally, he could just relax.

And thats when he saw him.

Shinsou Hitoshi was sitting on the couch, leaning over a wide-eyed Denki to get the lighter off the table.

Bakugou tried. He was trying. But even still, his hands shook with anger.

Kirishima met his gaze, shaking his head, and he didn’t have to speak out loud for Bakugou to hear his usual, ‘Breathe, man. Everything’s fine. Deep breaths. It’s not worth it.’

“Bakugou!” Mina shrieked, “You made it! I told you he’d be here, Sero, you owe me $5!”

Bakugou scowled. “You bet against me?”

Sero shrugs sheepishly.

You grin up at him from your spot by the girls, and Bakugou quickly crossed the room to sit by your side, ignoring the intruder on the couch. As he took a seat, he pulled you close to lean against his shoulder, and you instinctively reached for his hand without stopping your conversation.

“C’mon, Jirou, you should invite Yoamomo next time!” You were saying, “How will you ever get to know her if you don’t talk to her?”

Jirou, uncharacteristically flustered, shook her head. “No way. Absolutely not. Momo doesn’t seem the type to... ya know, any of this. We aren’t really her crowd.”

“So? She likes you doesn’t she?” Mina offers, puffing smoke.

Jirou’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she slouches down more. “I dunno... Pass it here, Min.”

“I’m sure we could behave ourselves enough for a night.” You tease, grinning, “We could have a movie night! Totally sober, if that’s what you’re worried about, Kyo.”

A loud groan cuts into their conversation, from across the room, “Yeah, speak for yourself.” Denki says.

“As if you could get through a movie night totally sober, y/n.” Sero snickers.

“Hey!” You shout back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“He might have a point, man,” Shinsou cuts in. He’d been so quiet, Bakugou had almost forgotten he was there. Of course, his luck ran out. “Y/n can’t even make it through a shift sober.”

The room erupts into laughter, though Bakugou stays quiet, rolling his eyes.

“Not true!” You say, blushing as you lower your voice, “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

Shinsou’s laugh is apparently contagious, as he says, “Are you kidding?!” He breaks into an eerily accurate impression of you, “Hey, man, what can I get for ya? Aw, totally, nice choice! Have you tried the muffins, man, they’re sooo good.”

You burry your head in your hands as everyone joins in on the joke, leaning back into Bakugou to hide. “Fuck you, dude! Fuck you!”

“Holy shit!” Denki and Sero are gasping for breath, “How are you so good at that, man?”

Shinsou grins slyly, reminding Bakugou of the cheshire cat (another reason he doesn’t trust the asshole). “Hey, a man can’t give away all his secrets, huh?”

Bakugou tightens his hold around your waist, mouth downturned into an unhappy scowl.

“I think a movie night would be nice,” Kirishima changes the subject, and Bakugou sends him a small smile in thanks. “I’m sure we’d all like to meet Momo, and if she’s as sweet as you say she is, she’ll totally go for it!”

“Yeah,” Mina says, wrapping an arm lazily around Jirou, “Besides, you’re a total catch, babe! She’ll love you!”

“Thanks guys,” Jirou responds quietly, passing the joint to you. “I’ll think about it.”

You take a few drags, offering to Bakugou, who shakes his head. You don’t push it, blowing the smoke away from the two of you.

“Man, and here I was, thinking you might finally relax some, Bakugou.” Shinsou comments.

Across the room, Denki has slouched against the other man’s shoulder, his feet propped up in Sero’s lap.

“The fuck did you say?” Bakugou snaps, glaring.

Shinsou chuckles, “Relax, dude, I’m kidding.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou growls, snatching the joint from between your fingers. “Fucking whatever.”

He takes a long drag, face red as he resists the urge to cough out of spite. Shinsou raises a brow, mouth twitching into a smirk. His fingers are in Denki’s hair, scratching lightly at his head, and the blonde looks like he could fall asleep any minute, a sleepy smile on his face. Bakugou feels an odd surge of jealousy, and frustration. These are his friends. You’re his girl. What the fuck is this guy playing at?

As Bakugou goes quiet, eyebrows furrowed and face drawn into a fierce scowl, and shoot Shinsou a look. He sighs, rolling his eyes, but silently agrees to lay off.

“You okay?” You ask, leaning back and placing a light kiss on Bakugou’s jaw.

He yanks you into his lap with a huff, pouting.

It takes everything in you not to giggle at him when he’s like this (it’s cute, okay?) but you knew that would only irritate him more.

“’Suki.” You coo, quiet so no one else can hear you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He mutters, frown deepening.

“But-”

“I said it’s nothing, y/n.”

You sigh, giving up and leaning back against his chest. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Besides, you aren’t stupid. You know he’s unhappy because Shinsou is here. And, by all means, Shinsou is being an asshole. But he’s your friend, and a really good friend (only a friend). You just want the two to get along, and you want to show your boyfriend that he has nothing to worry about! But, as per usual, both boys are being... difficult, to say the least.

After a few minutes it becomes clear that Bakugou’s mood isn’t going to improve, so you go back to your conversation with Mina and Jirou, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Eventually, he starts to relax, but remains quiet. He’s too stubborn to admit that you know how to calm him down, after all. And, besides, he can’t risk the guys telling him he’s going ‘soft’ (his words, not yours).

As your high reaches its peak, you forget about the exchange almost completely. You’ve moved to lay your head in Bakugou’s lap, staring up at him. You reach for his hand, bringing it to rest on your head and he rolls his eyes, fingers gently scratching your scalp. You smile up at him lazily, blowing him a kiss.

With his hands in your hair, you feel yourself begin to drift off, the conversations around you fading into a low buzz in the background.

Suddenly, Bakugou’s hands stop.

“Kats,” You whine, one eye cracking open to see what was wrong.

Bakugou’s mouth is agape, brows raised, and face red.

“Kats? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer, and you follow his gaze to the couch, where Denki has climbed into Shinsou’s lap. The blonde’s fingers are threaded into his hair, Shinsou’s firmly gripping his waist, and they’re kissing. You sit up, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

“See, bubs?” You plant a small, teasing kiss to his lips. “Told ya you have nothing to worry about.”

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script-nef · 4 years ago

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So why won’t you realise it '^' | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

1.9k words; Movie date [2/6]

Spoilers of Howl’s Moving Castle!! Beware!!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

“Eh, Shouko! What do you mean you can’t make it?”

“I mean, another person is about to come in and they need me to heal them. By the time I’m done the movie will be finished.” Shouko’s voice over the phone is laced with annoyance and sadness coupled with lethargy. You don’t know how she pulls off such a unique combination of emotions but she somehow accomplishes it every time. “And I was looking forward to it…”

This would have been the first time you had a break with her since the trip to France. And while she enjoyed it a lot, the same couldn’t be said for the two males. Which was weird since Gojou is infatuated with sweets and Ken-chan agreed to come. So it was kind of weird when there was a tense atmosphere between them. You know your brother and Gojou are nearly polar opposites, but their animosity wasn’t usually that strong.

They brushed it off as nothing when you asked if something was wrong, which was sort of dubious since you could kind of see the black cloud looming over the both of them, but you let it go. If it was something important, they would be able to handle it themselves or report it to you. You couldn’t sense any cursed spirits nearby so you guessed that they were just in a bad mood for some reason.

Still, you had a wonderful time and found some new snacks that everyone enjoyed. So a day well spent, all in all.

And Ken-chan told you to tell him if Gojou ever offers overseas trips or anything similar, so he must have enjoyed it. Maybe you can ask Gojou to take all of you to Denmark one day.

“Ah… my dear Howl. Life and curses separate us again.” Her voice is full of sadness now, no doubt mourning over her chance of watching her favourite character on a huge screen with surround sound disappearing.

“It’s okay! I’ll bring you the figurine and we can watch it again here in about… uh…”

“Ten years?” She sounds like she’s about to drop dead.

“Uh… yes… But maybe five years? Hopefully? You know, I shouldn’t watch it without you. I’ll come back to school.”

“No, no. Watch the movie. At least you’ll get to see it. Ah, they’re coming now so I have to go.”

“Ah, okay. Bye, Shouko! Stay positive!”

A non-committal sigh accompanies a small “Bye” before the call clicks off. A frown takes over your face at the lost opportunity for her. She was looking forward to this for a long time and you leapt at the chance for another girls’ day out. Being able to watch a childhood favourite is an added bonus. But now you’re standing in the movie theatre, the ticket desk just across the room and an extra on your hand.

It’s a shame because it cost quite a lot. Shouko is definitely going to mope about this when you get back and maybe start smoking again. She always has a pack on her even if she said she quit, and smokes one if she’s stressed or angry. You should call someone and make sure somebody takes it away from her.

You should probably hold onto the ticket and give it back. Or maybe that would make it worse for her, serving as a reminder of this day. Conflict rages inside your head. There’s a high possibility of either decision breaking her heart. Again. A buzz from your phone saves you the trouble of deciding.

Shouko: I sent someone as my replacement.

A tap on the shoulder makes you turn as you type in a reply and you come face to face with a black jacket. Gojou’s head pops down.

“Hey there. I think you called for a replacement!” He seems to be in a ridiculously good mood, even more so than usual. Maybe his students successfully finished another mission. Which is great. It also means more paperwork for you. Which is not so great.

“How did you com—ah. Teleportation.”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” He's been using the skill more frequently lately, popping in and out of places like one of those Whac-A-Mole games. . It gives you heart attacks all the time and you’re sure he gets a kick out of it. You saw how his smiles widen when you flinch or react. Thankfully it’s when you’re alone so other people never see you jump what feels like a metre into the air.

“Do you want popcorn?” He breaks you out of your thoughts. “I think they have the new caramel flavour. Apparently it’s way too sweet.” So perfect for Gojou. Even though he’s asking if you want it, there’s a spring in his step which definitely means he’s getting some. Probably the biggest option they have.

And you’re proven right because he comes back with two huge buckets which look impossible to finish. When you try to object, he cuts off with “I’ve eaten three buckets before. Alone.” With the smile he’s giving you, it really doesn’t sound like he’s joking. You try to take one to lighten the load but he says it’s alright.

He signals the way to the theatre rooms with his head, walking beside you as you find your way.

“So what’s the movie?” Your head snaps to him in confusion.

“You don’t know?” A shake and a shrug. “It’s Howl’s Moving Castle. This was Shouko’s idea since she loves it and this year is Studio Ghibli’s 40 year anniversary. The cinema is having an exclusive showing of their movies this month. Only one session per movie, for some reason. Surely they would make more money if they played it over multiple days, but. I dunno. Executives make weird decisions.” A light scoff from him to tell he knows exactly what that’s like. His hatred for the higher-ups runs deep. You don’t push it.

“So she wanted to come but got held back at the last minute?”

“Yeah. Ah, here are our seats.”

You’re placed in the very middle of the room and you both make yourselves comfortable. Shouko went all out for this movie, upgrading the seats and making it a recliner. Your poor back, abused after sitting in chairs and hunched over computers for so long, practically melts into the plush cushion. It’s so comfortable that you might fall asleep in it if it isn’t Howl that’s about to start.

Feet dangling in the air, you look over to Gojou to see him on his phone. It looks like he’s in a chatroom and you catch the words ‘Shouko’ and ‘favour’ before looking away. You didn’t mean to peek, but it’s not like you can consciously not read something. It was in your line of sight and you averted your eyes as soon as you realised what you were reading. Your brother brought you up better than to pry into other people’s businesses, even if it’s really, really tempting.

“Phones need to be placed on silent, you know.” The ads are coming on the screen. He smiles at you, slipping it into his pocket.

“Just talking to Shouko. She says she hasn’t even started properly.”

Disappointment fills you. Gojou is a good friend to watch this with but you hoped Shouko would somehow miraculously finish in time. She would be devastated.

“I’ll have to make this up to her when we get back. Give her the figurine and keep her hap—ah! I forgot! Gojou, I was supposed to ask someone to take her ciga—” He cuts you off with a light pat on your hand.

“Don’t worry, I did it already. All of them are safe out of her reach and I gave her packets of hot chocolate instead. When we get back, she’ll have drunk at least half of them and be in a good mood.” What a Gojou-like replacement. He smiles like a child wanting pats on the head for a job well done. You just barely catch yourself from moving.

Gojou gets a rep for being aloof and neglectful, but he does take care of the people he holds dear to him. His friends, members of the school, his students. You hope you’re included in the list.

Actually, the more you think about it, the more you realise he’s different from initial perceptions. You learn more and more about him as time goes on, in the most delightful sense. He’s somewhat like an onion, new characteristics being revealed every time a layer is peeled. A snicker escapes at the thought of Gojou dressed up like an onion, just waddling around. He shoots you a questioning head tilt which you wave off.

In the years that you’ve known him, he made himself into a trustworthy friend. One full of laughs and ridiculousness. Maybe it’s his childishness that puts you at ease, but he’s incredibly comfortable and easy to relax around. Thoughts trail and the words fly out of your mouth before you even think.

“You know, I think you would make a wonderful boyfriend.”

He freezes completely, like somebody’s zapped him in place. You stare at him, wondering what’s wrong, but the lights dim and by the time he gathers coherence, your concentration is on the opening sequence.

“Ah, that was so good! Ugh, I love Howl. Isn’t he so cool?” You skip out of the room, remembering to take the figurines provided at the exit, with Gojou trailing behind you. “You know how she asks him to wait for her in the past? The first thing he says to her in the movie is ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He searched for her the entire time! This is modern poetry. This.”

“Do you think Howl would be a good boyfriend?” The question stops you. It’s different than usual for some reason, the voice asking the question and the intensity of it. He’s still his aloof self, all smiles and grins, but there’s something you can’t quite place that’s wrong. It’s unnerving, but you diligently answer his question.

“Um, I mean, yeah? Look at how cute he is with Sophie. See?” The figurine is a frozen shot of Howl and Sophie dancing in the rain with an umbrella that’s not being useful at all. They’re both incredibly detailed, so much so that you can see their clothes and skin drenching wet. Wow, this is actually a phenomenal job. Shouko will be so happy. It makes your heart lighter knowing that at least something might light up her day.

“Why is he cool?” Gojou seems to be invested in Howl. It confuses you since he just watched the movie with you and he saw how awesome Howl is.

“Hm, well for one he can do magic.” He opens his mouth but you shush him with a finger to his lips. “Yeah, I know, what we have is kind of like magic too. But theirs is just… different. He just makes it seem kind of elegant. And he overcame his fear just for Sophie. Remember the scene with Sulliman and in the cluttered bedroom? He still found the strength to protect her even though he was so scared before. It’s admirable. I guess I like strong guys.”

“Hmm~” His tone is contemplative. “You know I’m stronger than him, right?”

A question mark forms over your head. He’s being really weird today. “Yeah? You’re the strongest in the universe, silly. What’s up with you?” Gojou just chuckles and ruffles your head.

“Nothing, nothing. Just making sure you know.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, the intensity gone and the light spring in his step back. “Who else do you think is strong?”

Next chapter →

#gojou x reader #gojou imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru imagine #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojou #gojou satoru #fluff #series #female reader

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years ago

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Stabbed

Summary: could you right something with Eddies daughter where she comes to Derry, and instead of stabbing Eddie, Bowers stabs her?

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

The disturbing atmosphere that hangs around Derry as a whole is not in any way lessened by the state of the old townhouse.

Sara is not a germaphobe on the same level of her father in any way, but the state of the hotel, if it’s even worth calling it that, leaves much to be desired. The flaked paint, carpeted flours where black marks are left on, creaking stairs with no elevator, and the complete abandonment of both the reception and bar did not claim this hotel was well taken care off.

Still, Sarah tries to ignore the warning signs and sits in the bar lobby, twiddling on her phone over a glass of lemonade, that she had to pour herself par for the course, and waits patiently. She’s not sure if she should be repacking or not, but her dad left without warning or explanation, so she stays put.

The stairs creak for the so many’the time, but she’s gotten so used to the sound that she doesn’t bother looking up. Instead she wonders if there’s anybody else in this godforsaken town, other than her father and his friends.

‘This is so stupid’, she whispers under her breath, letting out a deep sigh of resignation. She would go about and explore, to see all the places her dad had in his childhood, because she’s getting extremely bored now, and the urge to pace around and do something, anything is almost overwhelming. But, Eddie was panic-stricken at the mere prospect of Sara joining the group on their little adventure, so utterly terrified it left her shaky herself.

It’s weird to be in the town her father grew up in, but it’s even more strange to meet the people he was supposedly best friends with. They don’t seem like the type of people Eddie would be keen to hang out with back in New York, but maybe her father is just as good at hiding things from her as he is for her mother.

The more general idea of her dad and his friends bring up more questions than answers. Where have this people been for all her life. Why had they never hung out with her dad before? Why isn’t there a picture of them in her house?

She’s eager to learn more about them, but she heeds Eddie’s warnings, sinking further back in her chair. A few minutes later she rises, deciding to scout out the hotel at least – despite what horrible unsanitary things she might find, but a door opening stops her.

A woman, the only woman in her Dad’s group of friends stumbles in, her breath gasping and shaky. She searches around the entry way with her eyes, but sees no one, not even Sara, whose cover by the wall separating the bar and hallway.

‘Is anybody here?’ Beverly, she now recalls, asks, plucking a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket with severely trembling fingers. Out of her other pocket she grabs a lighter, but it takes her three tries before she can get the flame close enough to the cigarette, thanks to her tremor.

‘Shit’, she curses after the second time, and for a moment it looks like she’s about to put it back, but instead she aims again.

An instinctive part of her, the part that was raised by two people warning her about the danger of mundane things, wants to tell her cigarettes are bad for her. The part that saw how controlling her mother is towards her father, urges her to stay quiet. It’s not Sara’s place, but either way, the woman looks like she’s halfway to knocking on death’s door.

‘I’m here’, she calls out hesitantly, knowing that she’s not the one Beverly is looking for. Still, it feels weird to not acknowledge her, and to leave her be so crestfallen.

Beverly’s head whips around, and for a second there is no recognition on her face. Her face and eyes harden, almost like she’s preparing to battle, but then Bev’s brain catches up and her eyes soften.

‘Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there.’

‘It’s okay’, Sara assures, watching wearily as Beverly lets herself drop on the bottom step of the stairs.

‘Do you mind’, the woman asks, monitoring with her hand towards the cigarette. It usually does, Sara learned about the dangers of second hand smoke inhalation, but she’s not interested in starting a discussion. For a reason she can’t understand, she’s desperate for these people to like her, the same way they like her dad.

‘Are you okay?’ Sara dares to ask as she inches closer. She keeps a good distance away from Bev, so none of the smoke reaches her.

‘No’, Bev laughs without humor, ‘but no one ever is in this town.’ She suddenly looks Sara straight in the eyes, with the same intensity Eddie had when he firmly told her to stay put and not leave the townhouse. ‘You stay with one of us from now on, okay? It’s not safe to be here by yourself.’

Sara nods dumbly, feeling compelled to do so. She’s just about to ask for more answers, for the why and where and how, but a second ‘loser’ burst through the door, at least as if not more spooked as Beverly.

It’s Ben, who calls out for Bev immediately, and Sara may not know anything about the losers club, but she knows that Bev and Ben are it for each other.

‘Bev, are you okay?’ Ben asks without noticing Sara there. Sara flushes, feeling like a third wheel almost instantly, despite Ben’s apologetic look he sends.

‘Sorry I-‘

‘I’m going upstairs,’ Sara exclaims, walking up the stairs two steps at a time.

‘Sara wait’, Beverly bellows, trying to stop Sara before she gets too far.

‘It’s fine, I’m not alone, you guys are right downstairs. If somethings wrong I’ll just yell.’ Sara promises, barely glancing back at the two adults.

Ben and Bev make complicated faces, but eventually they both nod, turning back to their own conversation.

Sara reaches the top of the stairs, but there she has to pause for a minute. Though she has been unsettled this whole time, a whole new wave of eerie washes over her. She’s not sure what brought it on, but whatever it is makes her shiver down to her bones.

She considers going back downstairs, but Ben and Bev have picked up a new conversation topic, and she doesn’t want to disturb them. Sara vehemently ignores her own warning signs, and saunters towards her hotel room. While she does, she quickly peeks across the hallway, but sees no immediate danger -expect the black mold stains- there.

She opens the door, and the distant eerie feeling switches in a minute, into acute danger. Sara knows without a sliver of a doubt from the second she step into the townhouse that she’s in deep trouble. Unfortunately, her reflexes are not as quick on the mark as her senses, and she only notices the knife punching her way when the blade has already marked her skin.

She falls back, and can’t do anything to stop a second attack from striking it’s goal. A pocket knife breaches the skin of her cheek, straight through he tissue, and reappears on the other side. Sara can’t even scream before she scrambles up, hands pushing at her attackers chest to get him away.

Her attacker, a man with a mullet that appears like he hasn’t washed in multiple weeks, grins ominous and licks his lips.

‘Not who is was send here to kill’, he spits, reaching for Sara’s ankle and dragging her down when she tries to run. ‘But this isn’t so bad either.’

Before he gets another chance to do any other damage, Sara pulls the knife out her own cheek, smothering a scream, and holds it out in defense. She didn’t expect the man to thrown himself on top of her, plunging the knife in his own chest, but then again, he doesn’t seem to be in a right state of mind.

She can’t stop and think about it anyway, so she kicks his sluggish body away from her, and clambers upright. The man lays still face down, so Sara can’t see if he’s still breathing or not. She can’t feel the wound, are any part of her body for that matter, and she can’t believe she just pulled a knife out of her own cheek. A strange tingling panic begins to trickle over her body, as she forces her feet to move.

‘It’s fine, it’s fine’, Sara whispers to herself as she back up, praying that she won’t trip, and that the man who just attacked her won’t jump up and try to attack her again. She can’t comprehend what just happened, thanks to shock probably, but she falls straight back into her survival tactic she uses at home.

If she ever got hurt there, she would keep quiet, and deal with that pain herself -or tell her after making him promise not to tell her mom-. To her shock filled mind, keeping quiet seems like the best option.

She continuous to stumble backwards until she’s out of the room. ‘It’s fine’, she continuous to implant in herself, ‘it doesn’t even hurt, if there’s no wound, I’m not telling anyone.’

Of course, as per usual, the instant she thinks that, blood starts gushing out of her cheek like a tap that just got opened. The copper taste of blood, overwhelming and disgusting, triggers her brain, and suddenly, the pain she thought wasn’t there, hits her full force.

She screams, this time in pain, and the scream alerts the people downstairs promptly.

Their footsteps ruffle up the stairs faster than she can follow, so the first touch against her arm makes her let out a screech. Her dad’s face swims into her line of vision, blurred by unshed tears. Beverly and Ben are right behind them, their faces agape when the notice the wound and the blood streaming into her mouth.

‘Oh holy shit. Sara stay still.’ He insists with a panic filled voice. He brings his hand up, most likely to cover up her wound, but then seems to think the better of it with infection. Sara has seen Eddie in panic filled states many times before, but never had his face taken on the same greyish tone it does now, and never has lips trembled so much he can barely speak.

‘Dad’, Sara whispers, her voice cracking on that one syllable, blood gushes out like a waterfall. She pitches forward, knowing full well that Eddie will freak out at the idea of blood all over him, but not caring for a second. Eddie doesn’t care either, his arms wrapping around Sara’s heaving frame and pulling her as close as humanly possible. When her dad got here is a mystery, but Sara is so thankful he arrived when he did. The comfort he radiates, even with his stressed behavior, is enough to settle her back into her skin.

‘Fuck I- I don’t know what to do.’ Eddie strains, one of his hand cupping the back of Sara’s neck, trying to take a look at the wound.

‘I’m going to go get a first aid kit’, Beverly soothes as she scrambles away to go get the material.

‘Wai’t,’ Sara screams muffled, pulling back from her dad and reaching for Bev even though she’s out of reach. The departure of the woman suddenly reminded her of the man still in her room, and the fact that everyone was in danger.

‘The guy in my room’, she rushes out, pointing to the door. Her dad’s face lights up in a furry, more angry then she has ever seen him before. She would cower if she didn’t realize it was not aimed at her. Eddie presses a quick kiss to her forehead, gently towards her if anything else, but then sprints away into their room. Ben follows without question.

‘Wait, dad’, Sara whimpers, terrified that he might get hurt too.

‘He’ll be okay,’ Beverly says as she tugs Sara further away and then helps her slide down to the floor. The first aid kit is clenched tightly between her fist. ‘He’s tougher then he looks.’

She cleans up Sara’s injure the best she can, but she’s numb too it all. Only able to stare at the door opening and waiting for her dad to reappear.

She doesn’t have to wait long it seems, before the door flings open with a loud bang.

‘It was fucking Bowers’, he curses, going straight for Sara and inspecting the bandage without elaborating further. He sinks to his knees in front of her, one of his hands gripping her shoulder. He smiles comfortingly at her, but the fire behind his eyes has not dimmed.

The man, Bowers, must be known to all of them, because Beverly asks, ’Henry Bowers?’ And Ben hums approvingly.

‘He got away too, the fucker. Wait till I get my hands on him.’

‘Dad?’ Sara asks, not sure exactly what she’s aiming for. She’s just scared, and she wants her dad to protect her and promise that everything will be alright.

‘It’s okay,’ Eddie assures, hauling her into a hug and squeezing her so tight it’s a little constricting. ‘I promise’, he says so fiercely Sara has no doubt in her mind he means it, ‘I won’t let him touch you again.’

#eddie kaspbrak #eddie x daughter #eddie kaspbrak imagine #adult losers #adult eddie kaspbrak #the losers club imagines #beverly march imagine #ben hanscom imagine #eddie as a parent #eddie as a dad #My writing #requests

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kevindayscrown · 4 years ago

Note

Ah, I love your series with Kevin and Eric so so much! It's so good. Now that you said about prompts, I kind of would like to see Kevin talking with Jean about Eric (and maybe Jean talking a bit to Kevin about Jeremy). Of course you don't have to if you think it wouldn't belong to the plot/series but, if I'm being honest I would like to see your take on this! :')

Hello! Thank you for taking time to send me your request! For some reason, the most asked prompt both here and on insta was Kevin/Jean and their discussion about Eric! So I'll start with this one (and you were the first to send me it).

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Extra Content Part 2

Ghosts

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts, and follow this link for the fan fic version.

Kevin still rarely talks about Jean Moreau and everything cruel that took place in the Nest. He touches very briefly upon that subject, and even when he does, he hardly ever mentions the former Raven backliner.

He knows that Eric won't push it but it becomes clear that, as the final match between the Foxes and the Trojans approaches, Kevin is more jittery and nervous.

Usually, he expresses these emotions through being extra snarky. It's also the match that will declare the champions of the season, which only adds to his demands on court.

The Foxes can hardly stand his behaviour, so they let Eric do damage control. He seems to be the only one able to tame Kevin after a total of seven hours of practice per day.

Eric has managed to find a few of Kevin's buttons that help the other relax and ease off the tension, but it doesn't always work.

It does nothing when the day of the game finally arrives.

This year, it's a home game for the Foxes, so they are saved from the trouble of travelling across the country. They can hardly accommodate the crowd this match will attract, but they know they will still have the support of their loyal fans.

Eric takes a seat fifteen minutes before first serve. He can see from the stands that, even during warm ups, Kevin is unusually silent for someone who can't stop talking about the Trojans or about game tactics.

The game finally starts and it reminds the ice hockey player of a death match. There is violent collision of bodies, curses and fights, but it's apparently all fair game. It surprises Eric, but not enough to make him take his eyes off of Kevin.

The way he moves on court, brings about a wave of pride that overwhelms Eric. He can't help the smile on his face nor the way he cheers every time Kevin scores.

However, much to the Palmetto students' dismay, the Foxes lose 8-10. The 'renovations' the Trojans did to their lineup last year and the addition of perhaps the best Class I bakcliner on their team, is enough to create the small point gap needed to secure them a victory.

Eric can already tell Kevin will not be happy about it. He decides to give the team time to process the loss and waits outside of the Foxhole Court.

Which means that the Foxes have to deal with Kevin taking their ears off about everything that went wrong. Only few of them could tell, however, that Kevin was probably judging himself the harshest for every lost opportunity.

No one wants or has the guts to tell him that many times, Kevin would hesitate simply because his offence was met with Jean's defence.

The only one who decides to do something about it is Neil. Jeremy Knox seems to agree to his plan and the two of them manage to persuade both teams to help.

And that's how Kevin finds himself facing his former teammate as he comes out of the showers, dressed and ready to leave.

The number three on the other's cheek makes Kevin want to reach for his own tattoo, to look in the mirror and see if the '2' is still there.

"Jean," he says and walks over to his locker. "What are you doing here?" His voice comes out somewhat empty and void of emotions, even if there is a whirlwind of them in his head.

"That was a good game. Your hand seems to have almost fully healed," Jean says instead.

Kevin flinches. He remembers the night he left and he is sure Jean does too. He is sure that Riko took all of his rage out on the one left behind.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he finally says.

Jean says nothing at first. He simply stares at the other. They are obviously both still haunted by ghosts of the past. And Kevin is still weighted down by the guilt of thinking only of himself that night, no matter how injured he had been.

"It doesn't matter now. That's in the past. We have both gone our own ways."

Kevin can see that. Jean looks... healthier. He has gained weight and his light skin looks less ashen than it did the last time Kevin saw him.

"The Trojans-"

"The Trojans have taken me in and have helped me stand on my own two feet. It was the best thing you could have done for me."

Kevin nods. He had known that the two of them would never be able to play on the same court together again, exactly because of their shared past.

"And I thank you for it. I know the Foxes are right for you too."

Kevin is not so sure about that sometimes, but he knew that if Wymack had not taken him in, he wouldn't be here now.

"Are you happy?" Jean finally asks. It sounds almost absurd; the two of them, happy. They had never even been allowed to make such thought in the past.

But he thinks of Eric, he thinks of his father, he thinks of all the victories he has shared with the Foxes, and nods.

"I am."

"So they were right. About you and that hockey player."

The last thing Kevin expected out of a conversation between him and Jean was to talk about his love life. But eventually, he nods slowly in confirmation.

"Yes. They were right. We are together. We have been for several months now."

Jean crosses his arms on front of his chest and watches Kevin carefully, as if calculating what to say next.

"If he can tolerate you for months now, then I suppose it does work out."

Kevin could hear the meaning behind those words. 'Don't screw up'. But he has already done so once and he isn't planning on doing it a second time.

"It does. My boyfriend comes to all my games and is there when I need him. That's enough."

Jean nods, and there is a far off look that tells Kevin that he is thinking of something similar.

"Give Jeremy my thanks. Tell him that tonight's game was good enough that it almost doesn't feel like a loss."

The small laugh that comes out of Jean catches Kevin off guard. He supposes that the Trojans have done a lot more for Jean than he had expected.

"I'll tell him. He seems to value what you have to say," he says and Kevin scoffs, grabbing his duffel bag from the locker before closing it.

"And of course you would know." Normally, someone would perceive this as teasing, but Kevin is very clear about the meaning behind his words and is sure that Jean has also understood.

"I spend a lot of quality time with my Captain. I've gotten close with him, as it's expected."

Kevin just nods, walking besides the other towards the exit.

"We will see each other again on court next year," he finally adds once they are a few feet away from their awaiting teams. "You better be prepared."

"Don't worry about that, Day. I'm sure we will get to talk again before that," is the last thing Jean says before leaving.

Kevin watches him until he feels an arm being wrapped around his waist. He turns to look at Eric, with a characteristic scowl.

"It was a good game, if that's any comfort to you," the goaltender says and chuckles as he presses a kiss to Kevin's temple.

Kevin rolls his eyes but despite tonight's loss, he somehow feels lighter in his chest.

#all for the game #aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #the foxhole court #kevin day #the raven king #the kings men #matt boyd #kevin day x oc #OC: Jiang Eric #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #aftg fic #aftg headcanon

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hops-hunny · 4 years ago

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 6.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: mention of guns

A/N: This takes place during (Y/n) and Twyla’s shopping trip during chapter 6!

Annoyed. That was what bore a semblance of how Neville was currently feeling. He knew that this was the sole and only important reason they had come to Italy but that didn’t stop the tugging in his heart when he and (Y/n) had to part ways. Pulling out a lighter, he sparked his blunt as he continued to walk before he sat at the end of the table, clearing his throat.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” he took a long drag before setting it down in the ashtray in front of him, clasping his hands together.”I’ve already devised a plan, it’s just a matter of it will all work out in person not just in theory.”

“What’s the plan boss? Obviously it’s a great one if me and Georgie are needed.” Fred perked up, snickering alongside his brother. Neville rolled his eyes, looking back down at the page in front of him.

“Right. You, Seamus, and George are all going undercover. Harrison has already taken the liberty of getting the museum guard uniforms. Fred and George, you’ll be stationed near the exhibit entrance and exit while Seamus will be stationed near the back of the museum in order to sneak some of our men in.” the three men nodded, grabbing the uniforms they were handed. “Draco you’ll keep look out around the museum for anyone that may give us away and Blaise will snipe from afar if you need him to.” Draco and Blaise nodded before fist bumping, excited to be working partnered together on a mission once more.

“What bout me boss?” Ron asked, nervous that nothing had been assigned to him yet. Neville chuckled at his obvious nerves giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Can’t do much without my right hand man can I? You’ll be alongside me ready to aim and fire when ready. Harry will be disengaging the security cameras and other mechanisms which is why it’s important for Draco to keep an eye out while he’s doing this. And as per usual, Harrison’s already set some cameras of his own up and will be staying here in the camera to make sure we all stay in line and run smoothly.” he sighed, hands on the table as he stood leaning forward with a serious expression. “This mission is going to be one of the most dangerous ones we’ve done in a while. One wrong move and it’s all going to shit. If everything goes right we’ll only end up with a few dead bodies and a lot of priceless things. Any questions?” Everyone shook their heads.

Although the room had fallen silent it was clear from everyone’s face that they were filled with all the determination and confidence that was needed to pull something this elaborate off. All the skill and mastery required was right there and if anything had been clear before it was that they weren’t going down without a fight. Neville looked at Harrison, watching as he computed the logistics of it all in his head.

“This is some of your best work to date, boss. Now that the plan is done, all that’s left to do is a quick scan of the building so we can all get familiarized. We can all split up in different groups in order to cover the most area.” he snapped his fingers, causing one of the croney’s to bring him a small box. Opening it up, they all stared at the seemingly empty box curiously. “In order for communication to go as smoothly as possible, I recommend you all use these earpieces. We should start with them today in order to get used to them.” the boys each grabbed one of the small things putting them in their ear as they turned them on, all testing them out in their own stupid ways.

“Man, this is awesome!”

“Seamus turn your fucking ear piece off we aren’t there yet!”

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

Deciding the easiest way to enter was to do it the right way, they all paid for their tickets before branching off. Despite them all having assigned partners, the way they had branched off was not who they were assigned to at all. So as he walked through the museum, deep in thought, Blaise accompanied him.

“So boss, after that scenario earlier I’m assuming you fucked her already right? She’s quite fit isn-”

“I’m not above finding you and pulling out this gun Finnegan.” he responded, keeping his ear piece unmuted as Blaise chuckled beside him, shaking their head.

“Please, you really think the boss fucked her? He adores that girl. Surprised he hasn’t asked her out yet. You nervous, boss?” Blaise teased, tensing as he noticed the man had stopped walking. “Boss?”

Neville bit the inside of his cheek before looking up at his friend. Muting his ear piece once more he sighed catching up with him. “It’s just...I’ve never actually tried this whole love thing before. I wanna give her the best and not fuck it up but I’m….lost.” continuing their course, Blaise made note of where the vents where considering that was the most ideal place for them to be when it was all taking place. If he was to be there he’d have range of shooting without having to worry about being seen. “If you cared for someone so..deeply, how would you tell them?”

“You know, you came to the right person.” Blaise responded, a genuine but smug smile on his face. This was once again proving that he had the most luck when it came to romantic endeavors. Sure they never lasted long but they loved each of his partners in his own way. “Why not do something cliche for her? Considering she’s hadn’t even had her first kiss before you she’s most certainly probably not had her first date. Maybe buy her some flowers, take her to the best restaurant money can buy, get her a nice dinner and when the dessert comes out? That’s when you ask her out. Then to celebrate, take her on a Gondola in Venice.” Neville looked at him shocked. Why hadn’t he thought of any of those things? He was sure she’d love it. He could still recall those muggle romance novels she’d read, rambling about the happy endings she so badly wanted.

“Thanks mate. But how should I-”

“Tell her? Well that part is simple. Tell her how she makes you feel and once you’ve done that, the hard part is over.” he chuckled at the man’s flushed cheeks at the thought of his soon to be lover before turning the corner. “Come on boss, let’s check out that exhibit.”

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

“Hey Seamus, race ya to that room of paintings over there!” George said, laughing as he took off. Seamus gasp, beginning to run after him.

“Wait! No fair you didn’t- hey doesn’t she look familiar?” he asked, nudging his head to a tuft of (h/c) hair. George looked at the woman before nodding, eyeing her curiously. It was though she was familiar and yet completely unfamiliar in other ways. Walking over to her he placed a hand on her shoulder. “(Y/n)? I thought you had gone off with- oh.” he trailed off as the woman turned around, revealing a woman who bared somewhat of a semblance to the woman he thought her to be, but not an exact one. Rolling his eyes, he felt the vein in his forehead twitch as a wide tooth smile formed from behind the woman’s red lips. “Hey Gisele.”

“Seamus darling! Long time no see, yes?” she shrilled out, holding out her hand to him. He did the polite thing to do, bowing as he placed a kiss on the top of her. “You know, being the top model here in Europe takes up so much of my time! I’m here for a photoshoot but what brings you here? You’re an awfully long way from home. I’m assuming that boss of yours is here too?” the woman’s French accent echoed in her lilted voice, peaking over his shoulder for the man she had mentioned. At just that second he passed behind her leading her to try and step around Seamus, which he shut down immediately. Gripping her shoulders harshly, he flashed a few fake smiles to passing people before turning an intense look to the woman.

“Listen Gisele, Neville doesn’t want anything to do with you. I think he made that quite fucking clear a year ago when he kicked you to the curb. You were never meant to be more than a fling and you know it. He’s a lot happier now and if you so much as attempt to speak to him,” he chuckled darkly, flashing his gun at her which caused the woman to gasp. “I’m not above taking matters into my own hands. Some of the others may have a no woman or children rule but I don’t. Consider this a fat fucking warning.” and with that he walked off, leaving the woman to consider his words.

She looked at him over her shoulder huffing before walking off angrily.

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

#neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #mafia!neville #mafia!au #mafia

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theonceoverthinker · 4 years ago

Text

Oh Gods, They ARE Roommates! (Fair Game Week Day 1 Submission)

Summary: When a leak springs in Qrow’s bedroom, Clover offers to share his room in the Ace Ops’ suite while the repairs are being done. Follow the shenanigans they and their friends get into as they navigate a scenario that just about everybody but Qrow and Clover themselves swear is straight out of a romcom and see if Qrow and Clover have such an ending in store for them.

AO3

A/N: Here it is! My Day 1 Submission for @fairgameweek2021!!!! I figure a roommates story gels pretty well with the dual themes of sun and moon so here we go!

Shoutout to @drbtinglecannon who I’ve been screaming about this fic with for months now and who requested it as her gift for her 400 HC sweepstake prize!!!! I know it took nearly 100 days, but here you go!!!!

()()()()()()()()()()

CHAPTER 1

A leak.

A gods damned leak.

And a leak that he’d later learn only hit his room on top of it all.

Bad luck semblance or no bad luck semblance, that just wasn’t fair.

But regardless of whether or not it was fair, what it was was real and Qrow needed to do something about it.

From what Qrow gathered as he simultaneously observed the situation, got dressed, and tried to salvage anything previously left on the floor, the leak likely started last night while he was sleeping. Qrow slept right through its start and only realized it the next morning upon rising from his bed and feeling the very odd sensation of cold water greeting the heels and balls of his feet on the now wet ground.

Qrow was fortunate that most of his personal belongings had been spared the unwanted water’s wrath and those that were hit could be salvaged easily enough with some towels and just good old-fashioned sunlight. It still didn’t make the matter of his room flooding good though, just a bit more tolerable.

He couldn’t live like this.

Well, he probably could, but he sure as hell didn’t want to.

Qrow had slept in damp or even flat-out wet beds before under worse circumstances, and the smells of mold and mildew were not ones he ever wanted to make repeat appearances in his nostrils again.

Besides, it took forever to get the grime out of his hair.

No, Qrow needed a new living arrangement, and he needed it fast.

There was only one man he could go to to get that particular job done -- or at least get it done quickly -- and Qrow had no reservations whatsoever about paying that man a visit.

What a day this was shaping up to be...

It was a shame -- Qrow was actually getting used to his personal little corner of Atlas Academy. It was a comfortable enough space, not to mention private. He actually had a bit of space from the kids and while he enjoyed their company to some extent -- or at least, that was all he was willing to admit to anyone apart from himself -- after traveling side-by-side with them for weeks on end, the privacy that he gained from having a room to himself a little ways away from them was more appreciated than it wasn’t.

Well, maybe he’d get lucky and get a similar living situation again.

Of course, he often knew better than to hope for such things, but hey, he was trying to embrace optimism.

His nieces must have been rubbing off on him.

Perhaps someone else was, too.

Qrow found a custodian down the hall from his room and informed him of the leak on his way up to one of the academy’s elevators. An almost imperceptible movement jostled below Qrow’s feet as the elevator made its way up to Atlas Academy’s top floor.

Faces of varying degrees of familiarity met Qrow as he left the elevator and approached the likely location of his intended target. Qrow did what he could to starve off his own grouchiness, but by the time he had just one corner left to pass, the desire to do so had eroded away like footprints in a sandstorm.

And just in time to meet that grouchiness, James Ironwood was exactly where Qrow figured he would be.

James stood in the hallway right by his offices’ door, presently speaking to a couple of his soldiers. Whatever they were talking about, based on his slightly less rigid than usual posture and tone, it didn't seem like it was very important and probably wouldn’t keep him busy for too long.

That was good for the both of them, because Qrow intended to fill that void of business as soon as he could.

Qrow stayed by a nearby corner of the hallway while they continued talking, but the moment that the soldiers left James’ company, he struck. James gave him a small smile upon taking notice of Qrow, though it didn’t last long once he saw what was likely to Qrow a still very annoyed look on his face.

“Qrow,” James said, hesitantly, yet not without that professional tone he wore like a suit. “Always a pleasure.”

“Speak for yourself,” Qrow grunted. “A leak sprung in my room.”

A beat passed. James’ right brow raised.

“Bad?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it was good.”

“Fair enough,” James said right before releasing a sigh. “Come inside. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Qrow nodded, and followed James as he led him into his office.

Once inside, James brought up on his projector a cubic holograph-like projection of Atlas Academy. From the other side of the hologram, Qrow could see that each and every room was outlined in a minimalistic way, with letters and numbers along the tops of them and the cube’s top and bottom squares greyed out. Qrow watched as James’ eyes surveyed each visible room on the square of the cube closest to him, muttering things to himself that were too low for Qrow to hear. Once done with the first visible section, James swished his hand so that the hologram would go to the next square of the cube, and then the third not long after it, and then the fourth not long after that. However, James' expressions and the tone of his muttering didn’t change at all across the four sections from what they were during the first one.

Honestly, Qrow couldn’t help but find that just a bit concerning.

When he was at last done, James moved his finger so that the second square on the cube he visited was brought up. While there was a look of unease on his face, Ironwood gave the screen a decisive nod.

Finally, frowning and seemingly just a tiny bit nervous, he turned to Qrow, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“There are no other single rooms right now, unfortunately,” James said.

Looks like Qrow’s instincts were right again.

He frowned. Qrow had expected as much, but the news was still annoying to hear all the same.

“So what are my options?” he then asked, coming out more as a sigh than a question.

“What I can do is place you in one of the dorms, like where the kids are staying. You won’t be alone though. You’ll be with some of my other Huntsmen, but it’ll only be for a couple of weeks, at most.”

Great.

Two weeks rooming with up to -- and, knowing his luck, likely -- three of Ironwood’s men, hearing them go on and on about Gods knew what, dealing with the small dorm room’s litany of smells, and never getting so much as a moment to himself.

And there was, of course, always the chance that they could figure out the truth of his semblance.

Qrow hadn’t told that particular truth to a lot of people in Atlas, and though those he did hadn’t given him a hard time about it, he frankly was hoping the number of those who knew wouldn’t increase. However, Qrow knew it inevitably would come up sooner than later -- it always did, especially with Huntsmen -- and he was decidedly not looking forward to the reactions from his roommates over it, nor their treatment of him afterwards.

Wasn’t that just the perfect cherry to put on this pain of a sundae?

Still, Qrow reminded himself, it was something, and something was better than nothing.

Qrow was about to begrudgingly accept the offer, but was interrupted before he could do more than open his mouth by the sudden sound of a man’s clearing cough from behind him.

There was no need to wonder who it was -- the voice had become to Qrow as distinct as the feeling of the sun in the sky, and honestly, about as welcoming of a sensation.

Qrow turned around and lo and behold, just as he expected, there stood Clover Ebi -- bravado, charm, cheery disposition, and all.

Why did Qrow always seem to find his soul suddenly starting to feel just that smallest bit lighter these days whenever he showed up?

Eh, that was a question for another day.

For now, Qrow just wanted to know what it was he had to say.

If nothing else, it would at least make his day a bit more interesting rather than just the irritating mess it was turning out to be.

“Ah. Good morning, Clover,” James greeted.

“Good morning James, Qrow,” Clover said, walking up to them and shooting Qrow a tiny, yet kind glance as he did. “Sir, if you’ll allow me to interject, I don’t think that a dorm’s the best option for Qrow. Those beds are fine enough for the kids and some of our younger soldiers to be sure, but they’re none too kind on the back after a certain age, and I don’t think I need to tell you that like it or not, that’s an age we’ve all hit as well as surpassed by now.”

James sighed, giving Clover a slight nod. “You’re not wrong. So, what do you suggest we do? I’ve no other rooms to put him in.”

“That’s true, but thankfully, I do.”

James’ brow furrowed for a second, clearly puzzled, before settling to something of a reserved curiosity.

Clover gestured towards the holographic model that James visited a few moments ago, as if silently asking permission to use it. James nodded, and Clover took to the model, zooming in on one of the upper floors of the cube’s second square. Finally, he pointed his finger at one of the larger rooms.

“The Ace Ops’ suite has two beds per room,” Clover went on to explain, “and the bed across from mine is empty. They’re better built than those in the dorms, a bit larger in size, and I think Qrow will appreciate the privacy of only having one roommate as opposed to three. So, Qrow can stay there, if he wants, that is.” Clover then turned to Qrow. “What do you think?”

Qrow paused for a second. As Clover posed to Qrow his offer, Qrow heard a small, but unmistakably present twinge of hesitance in Clover’s voice. However, Qrow couldn’t figure out for the life of him why it was there. Whatever was the reason, it definitely wasn’t regret on his part about offering the room to Qrow -- James had clearly either forgotten or never heard of Clover’s extra bed, and Clover was more than smart enough to know that if he didn’t want to share his room, he wouldn’t have had to breathe a word about it, let alone offer it to Qrow, but he did.

So then what was the deal with the hesitance?

Well, there was one way to find out, and that opportunity was presently standing right there in front of him.

Besides, it didn’t take a genius to see that compared to three strangers, rooming with one Clover Ebi was a far better option.

It didn’t hurt that he was a pretty decent guy either.

“Yeah,” Qrow finally said. “That sounds good.”

Clover smiled. That bit of unease was still there, now in his eyes, but Qrow could tell that the smile itself was as genuine as it ever was and hard not to look at because of that.

“Great!” Clover said. “Why don’t I help move your things from your room to mine and we let James get back to some slightly more pressing matters?”

“That would be preferable,” James chimed in, answering for Qrow and smirking back at Clover.

“Always a pleasure,” Qrow snorted, calling back to James’ initial greeting as he followed Clover’s lead out of James’ office.

As they headed towards Qrow’s room, Qrow noticed that as it often happened, by this time of the day, much of the hustle of the morning had settled down, now just a student or a soldier here or there making their ways to their respective classes and drills.

Qrow liked the Academy at this part of the day for that, but always felt the least bit unsettled by the quiet of it. There was this weird echo the hallways had as they carried the sound of just his footsteps for just a second longer than he felt they should have.

Clover’s presence alleviated things somewhat, as if a bit of noise somehow subconsciously radiated off of him like heat off of a fireplace. He turned to Clover who gently met his eyes with his own while sporting an easy smile.

“Thanks, by the way,” Qrow said, “for the offer.”

“Happy to help,” Clover said.

“How’d you hear about it anyway?”

“I was walking by your room to see why you didn’t come down to grab your morning coffee, and saw a custodian working there,” Clover answered. “He told me what had happened and from there, I figured that you’d probably gone to speak with James.”

“And so you came to save your boss from a cranky old Qrow?”

Qrow smirked, both at his comment as well as its underlying meaning. Maybe one day, he’d tell Clover the truth about his other form, but that would be on a day when he had so much as a single clue as to how to even start that conversation.

Then again, given the very nature of that confession, that might be a long time’s wait, though it was time that Qrow couldn’t help but feel like they had.

“And to save that Qrow himself,” Clover responded.

Qrow’s smirk melted into a snarky smile as they entered the elevator.

“Should I be swooning and calling you ‘my hero?’” Qrow nudged his head in Clover’s direction, clasped his hands together, and batted his eyelashes a couple of times just for good measure.

“If you’d like,” Clover said, punching in Qrow’s floor number just before letting loose another one of his winks, winks Qrow was simultaneously well-used to by now but still caught off guard by. “I certainly wouldn’t object.”

The elevator door closed and the two of them started laughing.

Clover’s laugh was infectious -- deep, attractive, casual, yet spirited -- and it made Qrow’s last a little bit longer than it otherwise would have for a joke like this.

It also reminded Qrow, as their barks of laughter settled down into rumbling chuckles, of how much Clover’s laughter contrasted that bit of hesitance in his voice he had at James’ office.

Well, Qrow figured that before they started the process of moving him into Clover’s room, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to clear that up.

“Everything okay, Clover?” Qrow asked. “Couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a little strange back up in James’ office.”

Clover's smile receded, not completely, but all the same into something more neutral. “By offering you the bed?”

“No, that was normal for you. I just noticed you just had this weird look in your voice as you were offering it.”

“I see.” Clover snorted. “You’re far too observant for your own good. You know that, right?”

A wicked smirk took over Qrow’s features. “Absolutely.”

Clover sighed. “I just didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the room because it was me offering it or because James was there. I could only take a guess at what you wanted, but if I was wrong…” Clover seemed unable to continue, but able to tell that Qrow could understand his logic from there.

Qrow smiled at that bit of vulnerability Clover let him have. He’d received fragments of those bits here and there, and they had a way of sticking themselves onto Qrow’s heart like syrup on pancakes and feeling just as pleasant.

“You made a good guess,” Qrow assured, “and I appreciate it -- really, I do. Thanks, again.”

Clover’s smile brightened. “You know, you’re a lot better at giving compliments than you are at receiving them.”

“What can I say?” Qrow shrugged. “That’s just how I work.”

“Then I’ll just have to work that much harder to change that,” Clover challenged.

Qrow was starting to suspect that if anyone could accomplish such a feat, it would be Clover, and as they exited the elevator and continued towards Qrow’s room, Qrow realized that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #rwby #lucky charms #luckbirds #luck birds #fairgame #qrow x clover #qrover #fairgameweek2021

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kingreywrites · 4 years ago

Text

Tethered

- and for @dreaming-in-seams‘ ask

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2338

58. “Is that blood?” (prompt list)

Summary: It took until the end of the fight for Rapunzel to see that he had been scared of the cannon the Stabbingtons were pointing at her boat, and that he had been trying to save her, again.

It took even longer for her to understand that Eugene hadn’t fallen because of a punch.

[A canon-compliant continuation to Peril on the High Seas]

Note: I just want to thank Hannah again for the idea, and also, I took some inspiration from this wonderful art she did!!

Read on ao3

From where she was, Rapunzel couldn't get a good look at Eugene. For now, everything was going according to her plan, and she was confident that they would get Eugene and Max back from the prison boat, but she could only get glimpses of them fighting, and her worry kept growing. Should she jump in to help? Would the others still manage this boat if she let them alone without warning?

I trust Eugene, she repeated herself, deciding to stay put a little longer.

The Stabbingtons and him went down from the mat, and she raised her head, trying to get a good look at the situation. Something happened - she wasn't sure what, but Eugene suddenly looked horrified, even from a distance, and when she saw him run towards one of the brothers carelessly, her heart skipped a beat.

The brother stopped Eugene. He was tall, towering above her boyfriend, and she couldn't see, couldn’t do anything, couldn't even watch. In barely a second, Eugene was collapsing to the ground and she didn't even know why.

"Eugene?!" she called, and her voice didn't break but her heart felt untethered, because Eugene couldn't- She wasn't there with him, she hadn't jumped, and if he- if he- She couldn’t even say it. Time slowed, or reversed, taking her back to that time when she hadn't screamed hard enough, hadn't warned Eugene in time - sweet, loving Eugene, who had fought to come back for her, but for whom she hadn't managed the same, and that had cost him his life.

Eugene getting back up on the boat cut through her spiralling thoughts, and Rapunzel realised she had stopped breathing. Here he was, moving and talking and joking, taunting the Stabbingtons as he always did while looking completely fine, and if she didn't understand exactly what had happened, the overwhelming relief was still enough to nearly make her waver.

It took until the end of the fight for her to see that he had been scared of the cannon the Stabbingtons were pointing at her boat, and that he had been trying to save her, again.

It took even longer for her to understand that Eugene hadn’t fallen because of a punch.

They were still at the dock, sitting with their legs dangling above the water, because Rapunzel hadn't wanted to come back to the caravan just yet, and Eugene was always happy to stay with her. The evening had long since fallen, and she had her head on his shoulder, silently watching the stars shining in the night sky with his hand in hers. The air was a bit chilly, but Eugene was warm against her, one of his arms enveloping her shoulders, and this was all she ever needed - feeling him breathe and move and be alive never failed to make her smile. They didn't need words, at times like these.

A stronger gust of wind made Rapunzel shiver, and she snuggled closer to Eugene unconsciously. Usually, he would have tightened his grip around her, made space for her, because he enjoyed their hugs just as much as she did - but this time was different. If she didn't know him as well as she did, she might have not noticed it, might have let it slide, but it was Eugene.

And Eugene never cringed away from a hug if something wasn't wrong.

He corrected it quickly, but it was too late - she moved her head away so her eyes could meet his, and she saw the brief lines of pain on his face before he expertly smoothed them out.

"Eugene?" Rapunzel asked softly, her right hand going to his chest - but he grimaced, and she didn't finish the movement, her fingers hovering uncertainly above his heart. "What's wrong?"

She saw the hesitation in his eyes, the seconds in which he considered lying, or at least softening his answer, but she wasn't surprised to see him sigh in the end, wasn't surprised that he chose the truth. Eugene had spent years not trusting anyone with his vulnerabilities, years where he lied to everyone, including himself, until he was convinced that he didn't need help, that he was fine alone. She didn't care that he hesitated; she was humbled that, each time, despite his instincts and habits, Eugene chose to trust her, chose to confide in her.

His hand went up and softly touched hers, guiding it closer to his clothes, and closer to his heart, too.

"Don't freak out?" he whispered, and she understood the callback for what it was, but his tone was frail enough that she couldn't muster a smile.

The sea under their feet was still moving, unperturbed, its waves flowing in rhythm with her heart. Her hand was trembling, or maybe it was his, but together they inched closer to his jacket, and she gently pushed it aside.

"Is… Is that blood?" she asked, already knowing that it was because the moon was shining bright tonight, and Rapunzel couldn't escape the dark spot of red standing out in front of her eyes. Couldn't escape the memories flooding in her mind, taking her back to the tower for the second time today, as she remembered discovering his wound and realising, deep in her bones, that he was going to die if she didn't heal him.

She couldn't heal anymore.

"It's not too deep," Eugene said, his tone lighter as he tried to push her hand away, but she didn't let him. She hadn't noticed, at first, but even his jacket had a hole in it. When she refused to drop the subject, refused to make light of it, Eugene took her hand instead, and guided her to his cheek, until she managed to tear her gaze from the blood, and look at him. "I'm fine," he whispered, repeating it softly when tears gathered in her eyes. "It doesn't even hurt, Max's book took the brunt of it."

A sob built in Rapunzel's throat before she could stop it; because she understood, now, what she had witnessed earlier - and all the horror was crashing upon her at once, drowning her as she realised the full scale of what she might have lost in a single second. What she might have lost again. Because she chose to wait, chose to let Eugene deal with the Stabbingtons, and he collapsed and… And- what if, her mind screamed, what if there had been no book in between the knife and his heart? What if he bled out there, with her so near and so far at the same time, what if she had been helpless to save him because her stupid hair lost its purpose, what-

"Hey, hey," Eugene interrupted, his warm hands going to her face and tenderly brushing her runaway tears. "I'm okay."

"I know," she exhaled, her voice shaky, "I'm sorry, I know, but- but-"

"No, don't be sorry, that's- that was scary. I'm sorry I told you like this," he said, and she chuckled weakly at his bashful look, even though it wasn't really funny. Her emotions felt on edge, all of them roaring to be let out at once, and- she knew she was overreacting, but she wasn't, too. It wasn't a simple scare - it was her worst fear coming close to be a reality, for the second time.

Rapunzel closed her eyes for a second, soaking in the warmth from his hands on her face, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. When she opened them again, Eugene was still here, smiling at her, breathing with her, his hair moving slowly with the wind. He was alive.

And he was hurt.

She took a deep breath, hoping for tears to recede like the sea was doing under them, hoping to find strength in the salty air making Eugene feel so much warmer against her cold skin. "We should put a bandage on this."

"I don't think it's bleeding anymore," Eugene answered, his eyes never leaving hers, "but it does kinda ache if I move, so you're probably right."

"Probably?" she smiled, her eyes still shining.

"Always are," Eugene laughed, before they both got up.

Rapunzel was still oddly shaky as they walked to the caravan, her hand tight around Eugene's because she couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him right now. She needed him to be fine. And he was, she knew he was, that it was merely a scratch, but she… She still needed to check for herself.

Thankfully, they had her side of the caravan to themselves. Rapunzel turned her back on Eugene to light up the candle, since the moonlight filtering through the windows wasn't enough to see clearly, and she took those few seconds to brace herself - she wasn't scared of blood, per se, but seeing Eugene bleeding always managed to make her feel like she couldn't breathe right.

When she turned back, Eugene was sitting shirtless on the bed, looking at his white undershirt stained with blood. It wasn't a lot - not like his other shirt had been when he finally got it off after the Tower, and that she had only seen months after, when she realised that he had kept it. I'm sentimental, he had joked, but his voice had felt empty as he held the proof that he had died once, and all Rapunzel could do was hold him until they had both been certain that he was here, and he wasn't going anywhere.

But even if it was only a small stain today, the serious look on his face told her that Eugene was also more shaken than he was willing to admit. They were both trying to wrangle their emotions, their memories back under the lids where they shoved them but…

But they didn't need to. Eugene didn't need to hide his hurt and his fears with her, just like she didn't need to conceal the tremors of her hands and the wetness of her eyes. They could count on each other.

Rapunzel grabbed the first aid kit, noticing that they would need to find more bandages soon, and went to sit next to Eugene. He angled his body towards her without words, and she finally saw the source of all their worries. The wound was a tiny vertical line above his heart, a little above two inches, and deep enough that it had bled and ached quite a bit, even though it was far from the worst thing Eugene had ever experienced. And yet, when Rapunzel brought fabric near the wound to wipe off some of the dried blood, her hand was still shaking.

She kept seeing him fall back there. Kept imagining the worst, and kept feeling thankful that it hadn't happened - and guilty that it was only by pure luck, that she hadn't been there to save him like she promised herself she always would. She couldn’t lose Eugene. Each day that passed, each hour that made her fall in love with him a little more reminded her of how she could have lost it all at the very beginning. Eugene... Eugene dying had been the worst moment of her life. She hadn't thought herself able to heal from it back then, when she had cried over his corpse feeling like her own life was ending; but now that she knew, exactly, how it felt to live everyday while loving him?

Rapunzel knew she would never recover.

"Thank you," Eugene murmured when she applied the bandage, the wound looking like nothing more than a scratch now that it was covered. Maybe it would leave a scar, but that wasn't even sure.

"Of course," she said, her voice as quiet as his. They had no reason to be, but this didn't feel like a moment to be loud.

Her fingers brushed the bandage's outline tenderly, nearly scared that her touch would hurt him. She felt Eugene's hand pushing her hair behind her ear, and when their eyes met again, their lips had to follow suit. Eugene's mouth tasted like the ocean today, and she remembered the fear that gripped her once she realised him and Maximus had gone overboard. Her hands sneaked around his neck and pulled him closer, until his skin was flush against hers. She felt his shoulders move as he shifted and grabbed her waist, felt his chest expand as he breathed, felt how he trembled as she did when his mouth went to her neck and he buried his head in the crook of her shoulder.

"Nothing really happened," she heard him mumble - a confession, in a way, of his own shame at his strong reaction. Both of them were overreacting, and not. Because both of them had suffered through the same events, and from the same trauma, and not. If Eugene hadn't had the book; if Stabbington had pushed the knife a little harder; if- If her magical hair hadn't worked one last time…

"It was still scary," she reminded him, echoing his earlier sentiment, and Eugene laughed against her skin, his hair tickling her softly.

When he kissed her again, Eugene felt more pressing, more insistent, more desperate; and she responded in kind. At some point, she made them both lie down fully on the bed, with her above Eugene, and she scrutinised his wound again - watched the bandage move as he heaved, the white contrasting with his now flushed skin. She saw his mouth open, always ready to offer comfort at the smallest sign she was upset, but she pressed her lips against his again, feeling his stubble on her chin and his hair under her hands, hoping that he knew she wished to comfort him too.

And when she watched him sleep that night, safe in her arms, she knew that they were both ready to give anything for the other to be happy. Maybe their adventure was dangerous, maybe their lives would be in peril again, but their love was warm, and real, and bright; and some nights, it was all that really mattered.

#tangled #Rapunzel #Eugene Fitzherbert #tangled the series #tts #rta

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beautyiswithinchaos · 4 years ago

Text

Quiet Company

*** disclaimer: all new work is here @chaos-is-beautifvl ***

a/n: this is my first time writing for Jim and i think it’s one of my favorite works now

summary: sometimes quiet company is the best company...

warnings: mentions of drug use & alcohol use, mentally and emotionally abusive parents, so much angst (sorry not sorry)

word count: approx. 4K

Tagging you guys: @matildaofoz @prophecy-is-inevitable @rocketgirl2410

Palos Verdes. A town filled with plastic people, fancy clubs, and a never-ending ocean. Well, it wasn't never-ending, but boy did it stretch on for miles. If you could choose, this was the last place you wanted to be. Everyone here was so stereotypical but in the not so good way.

The only place you ever got any peace, quiet from the rest of this godforsaken town - was the beach. You didn't like the way the sand clung to your clothes or managed to get in your shoes and bag, but after a while, it became routine. You would go about your day and end your nights sitting on the sand, listening to the crashing of the salty waves as they collided with the rocks.

Your routine was the same today. You woke up, restless from getting little to no sleep, but that wasn't anything new. Everything else had followed suit per usual, and you found yourself back in your car, driving out to the beach. Stars filled the night sky, some shining more brightly than others. That's how it always was, in the sky, in the world, and especially in Palos Verdes. There were some people here who managed to outshine others, and it wasn't in an unsettling way. No, they were the stars that weren't like everyone else, conforming to their own rules.

Now, you sat on the sand, still warm from the harsh rays of the sun earlier in the day. You breathed in the salty air, inhaling it as a smoker would do with the smoke that infiltrated their lungs. Something was calming about it. Maybe it was the fact that it never changed - even if everyone changed, yourself included, this never would. The crash of the waves, grainy feel of the sand, all of it, it would never change. Maybe that's why it was comforting.

Someone came clambering down the slope, a curse leaving their lips when they stumbled. You sighed, your peace interrupted too early. You didn't move, though, keeping your eyes on the water as they settled down onto the sand.

The flick of a lighter sounded, and soon after, the smell of smoke reached your nose, making your face scrunch. "You know, smoking can kill you, right?"

You weren't sure why you said anything. When other people had disrupted your peaceful time, you stayed quiet, grabbing your things and leaving. Those people were the stars that shined too brightly, in a way that made you lose trust in the world.

"Well," they started, voice sluggish, "lucky day fo' me, isn't it? It's marijuana, not a cigarette."

You resisted the urge to turn to the person, "Still could kill you." Your response was simple, not needed, and probably not wanted by the person sitting next to you, but all in all, simple.

"Yeah, well, probably be doing everybody a favor."

---

The next morning, there was something different. You could feel it, but you weren't sure what it was. Throughout the day, that feeling crept around the back of your mind, plaguing your thoughts.

That feeling stayed with you as you settled down on the sand, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. The waves didn't have your focus as you laid your head on your knees.

The person came down the slope again, but this time, they didn't stumble. Well, not exactly. You caught a glimpse of brown hair as they came and sat next to you. When you didn't hear them flick the flighter or smell the smell of the marijuana burning, you spoke, "No drugs today?"

"Hey, now. Marijuana is not a drug, it's-" The brunette paused when you snorted, a soft laugh leaving your mouth.

"What's so funny?"

You shook your head, "Nothing."

---

The next few days were the same - you would be on the sand, watching the waves under the night sky, and down would come the brunette, whose name you learned to be Jim. You would quip a witty remark, and he would respond. After that, it would be silent. Neither of you saying anything.

Tonight, however, was different. You got to the beach later than usual due to a shift of plans that left you in a sour mood. Jim was already there, a dazed look on his face. He turned to you as he clambered up, stumbling like the first night you met. "Y/N, you're here. I was-" he hiccuped, "I was waiting for you."

You hummed, walking over to him, a vacant look on your face. Jim tilted his head, eyes cloudy from the drugs you knew he took. "What's- you look sad? Are you sad?"

"I don't know," you replied, honestly. Visits with your father never really bode well, but this visit was one of the worst. The words he said hissed at you before your mother made you leave reverberated in your mind, bouncing off every wall as the waves did with the rocks.

A laugh shook you from your thoughts. You looked up to Jim, his head thrown back as he let out a hearty laugh. You waited for his laughter to die down before speaking, "I don't see what's so funny about what I said."

He looked at you, a cheeky grin on his face, "It's just... you never know how you feel. I ask, and you say 'I don't know.'"

You mulled over that thought, and you realized that Jim was right. You never knew how you felt. You just went about the motions of the day without ever asking yourself how you were doing. Turning back to the brunette across you, you saw he was looking up at the stars, "How are you doing?"

"I don't know either."

---

That night, when you got home, you thought about what Jim had said. As usual, you didn't get much sleep, but this time, it wasn't because of the visit. No, it was because thoughts of the brunette with eyes like the ocean, who was always either high, drunk, or both, filled your head.

The next day, you got to the beach earlier. You didn't visit your father or your mother. You couldn't, not after what transpired the day before. Hours had passed, and while you weren't sure why, you missed the company of Jim. It was an odd feeling as you had never exactly missed anyone before. Well, that was a lie. You had missed people before, exactly four people. But only those four, well, now it was five.

With a heavy sigh, you grabbed your bag, brushing the sand off your clothes. You went up the slope when a yell caught your attention. Flipping your head in the direction of the noise, you saw someone bounding towards you. It was Jim. You knew that floppy brown hair from anywhere.

He came to a stop in front of you, a smile on his face. "Hey." You tried to hide your frown when his words came out sluggish, but luck wasn't in your favor. Jim's smile faltered, his bottom lip jutting out, "You look sad again."

"I'm fine, Jim." You looked down, biting down your lip, "I missed you over there." He looked over to your usual spot, one you now shared with him. "Sorry," he giggled out, "my friends - they wanted me to hang with them."

"Do drugs, you mean?" You weren't sure why you said that, and you regretted it once a frown replaced his half-pout. "I'm sorry. That was rude - god, what is wrong with me?"

He didn't reply, not that you expected him to. For some selfish reason, you wanted him to leave, to get mad, to call you a bitch. You didn't like the way he made you feel, and no, it wasn't that feeling people get when they fall in love with someone. It was the feeling that you could trust him, that you wanted to trust him.

"Come here. I want to show you something." He turned and started walking away from you. You faltered, unsure if you should go with him.

Walk away now, Y/N, you thought as you held onto your bag. It's easier to walk away now.

Jim looked at you over his shoulder, "Come on, Y/N. Live a little." Begrudgingly, you followed after him, pushing back the pessimistic thoughts that you would regret this to the back of your mind.

"You surf?" Jim asked as both of you stared out into the ocean. Your mind was like the ocean, a chaotic mess - something beautiful because of how disordered it was.

"Nope, but I'm assuming you do." Surfing wasn't for you as Palos Verdes wasn't for you. You didn't think it was for Jim, either. He was one of the better stars, the ones that shined more brightly than others in the best way.

"Yeah. Medina and I surf all the time, well, when we can. It's nice, you know? Being able to lose yourself in the waves."

You didn't know who Medina was, and you didn't ask. All Jim needed to be was quiet company, nothing more, nothing less. It was better that way. He didn't know much about you, and you didn't know much about him.

---

Two nights later, you found yourself back at the beach with Jim. It was routine, and you felt like you couldn't go without it. You were afraid of that, always afraid to get close to someone. You were even more afraid of getting too close to Jim.

You met him by the shore this time, right where the dry sand and the water met. It was a fine line, and it seemed as though you were crossing it. You knew that getting so close to him wasn't right, but just like drugs gave him a high, he gave you one.

"We should get in," he said when you came up beside him. You shook your head, laughing. "No, Jim. We are not getting in."

"Why? It's just water. Come on," he grabbed onto your wrist gently, and your breath hitched. It had been a long time since someone, anyone, had held you so gently.

"No, I can't, Jim." He didn't seem to understand, only tilting his head, "Why? Why not?"

"I can't swim," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. For some reason, you felt defensive. Good, you thought, it's better to keep my walls up.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Jim asked incredulously as if you had said something completely atrocious. "What do you mean by 'here'?"

He shook his head, spinning around with his arms wide open, "Here. In P.V."

"It's complicated," you stated, wanting the conversation to be over and done with. Jim wasn't up for it as he kicked at the sand, "That's what everyone says. They say it's complicated. But it never is. They just don't want you to know them."

You sighed, running a hand over your face, frustratedly, "You don't need to know me, Jim. And I don't need to know you. It's easier that way."

---

You were drawing shapes in the sand with your index finger as Jim laid beside you, taking a long drag from his cigarette. The smell of smoke filled your lungs like the first night you met, blending in the taste of the salty air. It was a weird combination, but it was comforting, something you had grown accustomed to.

"Do you live with your parents?" Jim had asked you personal questions before, and you had shut him down every time. It's easier this way. That's what you told yourself every time you pushed him away. But Jim was like the ocean, drawing you in and drowning you. He wasn't drowning you in a bad way, though. You realized then that Jim was an addiction, something you knew you shouldn't have but craved anyway.

This time, you gave in. "No, I don't live with them. Do you?"

"My dad is married now to Ava. She was our real estate agent. She and dad fell in love and boom." He brought the cigarette to his lips, "New family."

"We both have crappy families, huh?" Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to let Jim in.

"My sister is the best. Her name's Medina. You would like her."

---

You and Jim grew closer. Some nights you would talk for hours on end about anything and everything. Other nights, you would just sit together, listening to the crash of the waves.

One night, when you wanted to be completely free, you asked Jim to teach you to swim. You were nervous, but you trusted him more than you probably should have. But you were in too deep, out too far in the ocean.

Jim wasn't just your quiet company anymore. He was your anchor, keeping you above the surface and away from the strong currents. One day, though, you would have to let him go. You didn't want that, but you knew it was coming. It's like when you're surfing, not that you had before, but that moment when you feel a big wave coming, and even though you think you're ready, you're never really prepared.

---

You sat in your car, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You contemplated on whether or not you should get out. There were pros and cons to your decision - getting out had more cons, and staying in had more pros.

You decided on the former. Grabbing your bag from the passenger seat, you adjusted it on your shoulder, a sigh leaving your mouth as you walked into the building. When you reached the door, you sighed again and prepared yourself for whatever insults or accusations might come your way. Raising your hand to the wood, you hesitated. Did you really want to do this? Subject yourself to pain - time and time again. The truth was you didn't, but you still knocked on the door, awaiting a reply.

The door swung open, and you sent a gentle smile to the nurse. You swore that she was the only sane one in that room. Your mother and father were quietly talking, stopping when you approached. Taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, you took your bag off and set it on the floor.

"Hi, mom, dad." Your father grumbled, eyes boring into you with disinterest. This, much like you getting little to no sleep, wasn't anything new.

"What are you doing here so late?" Your father spoke, voice gruff and harsh as if scolding a child. You weren't a child, though. You had stopped being one a long time ago when the reality of the world came crashing down.

"I'm not too late. I had to work a little later than-" Your father's scoff stopped you from continuing. You looked down, briefly shutting your eyes, relishing this small moment of peace before his tyrant of hurtful words left his mouth.

"You don't have to lie, Y/N." It was your mother this time who spoke. You scoffed, turning your attention to her. She held your father's hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. When you were younger, you thought it was one of the most intimate things, but as you got older, you realized that she was consoling him when he had done something wrong.

"I'm not lying, mom. If it's really a problem, and you don't believe me, then you can call my boss." And this is what you despised most about your visits. Your mother would defend your father when he would say something cruel or mean.

"Probably sleeping with him," your father grumbled yet again as he lifted his strawberry Jello cup to his mouth. From the corner of your eye, you saw the nurse, Julia, taking a step forward. You shook your head slightly, and with a defeated look, she went back to tending to the room.

"I don't do that. I would never-"

Yet again, your father cut you off, and you kept the tears filling your eyes at bay. "And you wonder why I'm like this." He gestured around the room. "I'm in here because of you! You and all your ways!" You flinched when his voice rose.

"Stop..." You shook your head, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. Your father acting this way wasn't new, but the way he yelled made your stomach churn.

"Do you know he thought about hurting himself because of you?" Your mother spoke, projecting her own guilt onto you. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. It was like the ocean, teetering over the edge of the jagged rocks without actually going over.

"I haven't done anything." Your voice was shaky, and you knew that at any moment, you would break. You were like a levee, too much pressure, too much pain, and it would give way. And you would be drowning in your pain, all alone.

"Why do you even come here?" Your mother asked, standing up, a stern glare set on her face. You tried to ignore the little smile on your father's face. Of course, he's fucking enjoying this, you thought as you tapped your fingers along your thigh in an attempt to calm yourself.

"If you're going to act this every time I come here, then I'll stop coming." You were tired - that was an understatement. You were exhausted and worn out. Your parents only cared about each other, always double-teaming you. It was never playful banter; it was harsh.

"Maybe that'd be better for everyone," Your father said, and that's when you shut down. The roar of your blood rushing in your ears reminded you of the ocean. It reminded you of the way the waves rolled over on each other.

They kept speaking, but you didn't say anything. Your parents threw insults and hurtful words your way, and all you could do was sit there and listen. At one point in time, it would have broken you, but now, you were numb.

You stood up quickly and grabbed your bag. You mumbled a quick 'bye' before rushing out of the room. Tears fell from your eyes and down your face as you threw open the driver's side door.

A broken sob left your mouth as you started the ignition and began driving. You didn't understand. What had you ever done wrong? The answer to that was nothing. You had nothing, but for some reason, your parents treated you as though you had.

No destination was on your mind as you drove. You just needed to get away, get away from your parents, away from the pain. It was sad, really, how your parents treated you. Instead of supporting you, they belittled you. Every time you thought things were getting better, they would turn around and prove you wrong.

You blinked away tears when you stopped the car. You were at the beach, but it was day time. You got out of the car and headed down to your regular spot, hoping no one was there.

Unknown to you, your nighttime friend was there, intoxicated by the drugs and alcohol he took. Everything in his vision was hazy, but you weren't. He was you clearly, tears in your eyes as you rushed down to your spot. Jim stood up and started walking after you when someone tugged on his jacket sleeve.

Rubbing his eyes, he turned to see Heather tugging him back to her, "Where are you going?" Jim shook his head, his vision not as clouded as before, "I gotta- I gotta go."

"Jim," Heather called, a pout on her face. "Stay."

Once again, Jim shook his head, shrugging her off of him and walking after you. He found you, your knees brought up to your chest as you watched the waves.

"Hi." You didn't turn but responded with a soft, "Hi, Jim."

He sat down next to you, closer than before, "What's wrong? You look sad." He always thought you looked sad. You didn't notice, but there was always a vacant look on your face along with a frown. It was as if though you couldn't be happy without unhappy thoughts filling your head.

You turned to him, tears in your eyes, "I'm tired, Jim. I'm so fucking tired." He stared at you for a moment before patting his thigh. You raised an eyebrow, and he patted it again, "Come 'ere."

You scooted closer to him and laid your head in his lap. It was comforting, not the waves, but the warmth radiating off of him. Even though the sun was out, you felt cold. It wasn't until then that you realized you were always cold, in constant need of having someone's touch.

"Jim?" He hummed, fingers ghosting over the side of your face. "Do you hate me?"

He looked down at you, wanting to meet your eyes, but your focus was on the tumbling waves. "I don't hate you. I don't think I could ever hate you." Jim mumbled the last part quietly, more so to himself than to you.

"Everyone hates me. Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe that's why everyone leaves."

"Hey..." he said softly, gently turning your head so that you were looking at him. In a way, you were still looking into an ocean because you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes.

"It's a selfish thing to ask, but would you leave me?"

He shook his head, "No, I wouldn't leave you, but you might leave me." You laughed, and he smiled down at you, "What's funny?"

"You."

"It's nice," he said, trailing his fingers along the side of your face, making your eyes flutter close. "Hmm, what is?"

"You talking. You don't talk much, always quiet, always sad."

"Parents suck." Jim laughed, and you swore it was one of the most calming sounds you had ever heard. "Yeah, they do. They're sort of hypocrites, you know?"

You nodded, reaching a hand up and pushing a lock of hair away from his face. You had never taken the time to look at him, but now, you didn't know why you hadn't before.

"You're good company. Did you know that, Jim?" You memorized every detail on his face, every little mole, the shape of his mouth. You knew that one day he would leave, just as everyone else had, and that's what scared you. Jim was the first person in a long time who made you feel safe.

"You're one of the good stars," you said sadly, closing your eyes and listening to the roar of the waves.

Jim didn't say anything, only continuing to trail his fingers along the side of your face. In his drunken and high haze, he didn't know what you were talking about, and it became quiet.

Just as before, like the first night you two met, it was quiet, a warm and comforting quiet. There were no words that needed to be said as the two of you basked in each other's presence.

When you opened your eyes, Jim wasn't looking at you anymore. His eyes were on the water. You turned your head and looked in the same direction.

You were sad. You knew this wouldn't last forever. The two of you being free from the rest of the world. You and Jim were those stars - the ones that outshone the others. Jim had a chance, a chance to get away. He needed to. This town didn't deserve him, and you didn't think you did either. He was too special, too good for someone as broken and screwed up as you to have.

So, for now, you would cherish these moments because one day, it would all end, and you'd be alone, drowning in the ocean of your pain.

—

a/n: part 2? if so, i have ideas in mind

#my writing #Jim mason #Jim mason x reader #the tribes of palos verdes #Cody fern x reader #Cody fern #Jim mason imagines #Cody fern imagines #Michael Langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #american horror story #xavier plympton #duncan shepherd

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birdwonder · 5 years ago

Note

just thought of the idea of Rohan using his stand on reader and seeing on their page they have a big crush on josuke so Rohan either teases them or helps them get together. i think the idea is cute

|| i am SO sorry this took a while longer than i usually take to write. my holiday has left me without a computer so writing long stories takes forever on a phone but i hope these 3,000 words make up for it :,) its 3am so i doubt i editted properly so ill go through it again tomorrow

Josuke Higashikata | Rohan’s Help / Confession

You and Rohan have been friends for a short time. Less than a year to be honest, and yet you two felt like you were as thick as thieves — an unstoppable duo when it came to your friendship. Both of you complimented each other so well, you being able to improve Rohan’s social skills and how he treated others, and Rohan had been making progress with you to be more confident. A kind yet self-loathing highschool student who is best friends with a prideful and stuck up manga artist, who would have thought?

In the small amount of time you two have known each other, you both have been able to pick on small quirks you had and tell-tale signs of your moods. For example, you were currently leaning on the side of Rohan’s desk as he scribbled away on a piece of paper, desperately trying to figure out a new and inventive pose for his next manga page. Your blank, dull eyes staring into the distance and lack of encouraging comments was all Rohan needed to know that something was up with you. Of course, he wasn’t the best at comfort, not when it’s so early into his progress of becoming a better person, so jumping straight to sympathy and questions was not his go-to plan.

“So, what do you think so far?” Rohan questioned with hope, holding up his sketch book with one hand and gesturing towards it with another, hoping that your thoughts on his work would be at least distracting enough from whatever was plaguing your mind. Unfortunately, you only glanced towards the sheet of stunning, detailed figures and hummed halfheartedly before returning to look at absolutely nothing with your chin pressed into the centre of your palm.

Groaning, the artist tore out the page dramatically to then scrunch it up into a tight paper ball, throwing it into the trash-can beside him in a small fit of annoyance. “Right then,” he burst out abruptly, two hands slamming on his desk and his chair scraping backwards as he got up to emphasis his change in mood, “you’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now because right now I can NOT figure out how to draw this next panel, and I can’t do it when you’re sitting here like a... a...”

“Like a what?” You piped up, one brow quirked up which gave you an atypically fed up expression, one so cold it almost sent shivers down Rohan’s spine.

“Like a killjoy!” He finally said, huffing and puffing his cheeks out. “You’re just sitting there, staring like a corpse and I’m actually trying to talk to you!”

Then, you faltered. Your tightly pressed lips tilted downwards and your brows lowered, returning your expression to it’s well known gentle and kind look, something Rohan had greatly missed the last hour or so. “Oh, I’m sorry Rohan, it’s just, oh never mind.” You mumble your last words, a strange pink tint along your cheeks that didn’t go unnoticed by the man who valued every single detail he saw.

Rohan then grabbed your shoulders firmly, forcing you to turn and look at him, his eyes narrowed with an intense stare boring into your own pupils. “[F/N], I refuse to take that as an answer, so let’s try again shall we? What. Is. The matter?”

You gulped a little, sucking in your breath while debating whether or not to tell your trusted companion about the problem that ridiculed you or not. You opted no. With a shake of your head, you gave an apologetic look and your frown only went deeper, “sorry Rohan, it’s really stupid and I just don’t want to say it. I mean, it can’t be solved anyways, so I’m sure I’ll get over it soon!” You placed a hand on his shoulder and forced yourself to smile a little, your heart swelling with some joy over the fact Rohan had clearly grown as a person - showing that he cared for the problems that bedevilled you was one large step from where he was when you first met. “Thank you though, really.”

Your gratitude and certainty may have been enough to rest anyone else’s soul, but not Rohan’s. He simply would not take ‘no’ for an answer. Sighing, he released his grip on you, giving you the message that he wasn’t going to pry anymore until he spoke, “I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice.”

Before you could question his words a familiar cry of “Heaven’s Door,” was yelled and you felt your body slowly feel lighter, almost weightless as you watched the skin on your face and arms unfold to reveal small prints of words, words you knew revealed everything there was to know about [F/N] [L/N].

Resistance was futile as you struggled to shift away from Rohan’s approaching form, the back of the chair and the wall behind you trapping you inbetween, prayers being your only tactic of getting out of the hectic situation. “Now let’s see,” Rohan hummed, taking a gentle hold of the pages attached to your face between his thumb and index finger, his eyes scanning each word carefully as though missing a single one would be detrimental.

“Rohan, please don’t,” you begged, fear arising in you from the idea that he would find out the cause of your sullen mood. Fear that was quickly picked up on.

“[F/N] [L/N], sixteen years old... Birthday is... Ah, here we are, something more modern. Cereal for breakfast, and currently stressing over the idea that Josuke Higashikata won’t like her...” Rohan’s out loud reading soon quietened and the look he gave you could only be summarised to ‘really?’

Once he pulled away from you, Heaven’s Door effects subsided and your skin was no longer detached from you. You sighed with relief that you were no longer in such a vulnerable state, calm until you began to lightly pound your fists against Rohan’s chest, unable to actually hurt him since you didn’t have to heart to. “Rohan, that was private information, how could you?!”

Rohan clicked his tongue, using only a finger to press against your forehead to push you away. The perks of you being so docile was getting you to stop any hint of aggression was easier than reciting the alphabet.

“I did it for you so I could help you with your problem!” He argued in attempt to defend himself and cringed slightly, speaking with venom in his voice. “How was I supposed to know that you were so worked up over that idiot and not something sensible?”

“He is not an idiot!” You retorted since you hated whenever either Rohan or Josuke insulted each other. Those two really had the potential to be friends with each other, they just never let it work. Regardless, your main concern was the fact your true feelings were revealed and in the worst possible way. You hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about how you feel, not when you were for sure that it wouldn’t matter in the end.

Josuke ... he was amazing. Friendly, strong, funny and whenever he looked with you with those kind eyes and a smile on his plush lips, your heart stopped only to restart beating 1000 beats per minute. You were certain that he was the most perfect person you had ever met, and every memory with him was greatly treasured.

Though you were almost certain he didn’t feel the same. You felt so small compared to him, figuratively that is, and everything he was good at, you seemed to fail at. Confidence, strength, styling the perfect pompadour; you couldn’t even compare to him, even if these all seemed like the most insignificant aspects ever. So, why would he want to be with someone who couldn’t reach his standards ? He wouldn’t.

Your internal self deprecation was silently evident to Rohan as you began to nibble on the bottom of your lip, dejectedly looking down like a lost puppy. No way was he going to let you keep that up, not when he had announced you as a friend to himself and actually cared about how you felt.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rohan groaned at what he was about to do although he knew it was going to be worth it if it meant you weren’t ruining your hang out times anymore. “Alright, we’re going to make you confess to Josuke.” He declared, catching you off guard, and you weren’t able to even question him as a single finger was suddenly pressed upon your lips, sealing your mouth shut with one simple movement.

“Listen and remember this well, [F/N], you are perfect the way you are and as much as I would hate to see Josuke gain anything he doesn’t deserve,” he paused to retract his hand from your face and instead ruffled your hair, treating you like a younger sibling for a second, “I know being with him would make you happy, so I’m going to help you confess your entirely questionable and possibly delusional love for that delinquent.”

You blinked up at Rohan a few times, mouth agape. There was no way that this was happening, just who was this guy and where was the real manga artist you knew?

“Rohan, I appreciate you wanting to help me, I really do, but there’s no need! It’s a lost cause, let’s just get back to what we were doing before - poses right?” Your attempt to change the subject was quickly brushed off like dust on Rohan’s shoulder when he pinched your nose, an audible ‘ow’ squeaking from you.

Your resistance to the situation was irking Rohan to no end, his drive only stepping on the gas each time you tried to refuse his assistance. There was no way he was going to let you suffer in silence. Besides, if he helped two young, dumb and lovesick teens get together then maybe he could have some insight on how to work around the more romantic scenes of his manga, if he was to ever implement them.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. This is going to happen and you’re going to thank me for it,” the green hair male stated, eyes heavily trained onto you. You gulped.

You really didn’t know where this was going to go.

——

A band of raging drums had surely replaced your heart.

The hammering sound of sticks against percussion instruments was practically akin to the violent, frantic rhythm that pounded against your chest with the diagnosis resulting to be nervousness.

You sucked in your breath and released the built up carbon dioxide by muttering words of encouragement that Rohan had taught you to rehearse to yourself in case of situations like this. Ironically, he was the one who had put you in this nervous wreck state. His vow to have you confess to Josuke had stuck through pretty solidly leaving you in a cute outfit you definitely could not have afford on your lonesome, [Thank you Rohan.] and standing in front of your crush’s door.

Gulping, you began to hype yourself up.

‘I can do this! I can totally do this. No problems here, none at all!’ The repeated phrases were practically a religious mantra at this point; if you were to even dare forget a single one you’re certain life would be a living Hell. Well your stresses shouldn’t matter anymore, you were here now. Just knock. Knock and say what’s on your mind!

The unremitting worries failed to cease however , eating at your brain like parasites that were only starting to leave once you gathered enough courage and balled your hand into a fist, rapped against the wooden door.

It took less than a minute for the door to be unlocked and opened, revealing the tall, well built figure of the one and only - Josuke. For some reason you felt as though none of this actually happening right there and then, like it was some dream or even a nightmare you were going to wake up from any second. You quickly rubbed your eyes to see if that was true. When you opened them, he was still there, his usual stylised school uniform replaced with a regular white t-shirt and dark blue jeans. It wasn’t an unwelcome look but certainly threw you off for a second seeing as it was rare to see him wear anything other than his uniform.

“[F/N], hey!” He greeted,his eyes seeming to light up at the sight of you while a hand gripped the door frame, “didn’t think it’d be you at the door. What’s up?”

The moment he smiled at you, you knew that you had to this. How he instantly had made you feel relaxed would have seemed impossible to you five minutes ago, now you felt as though things would go perfectly. If not for the persistent nagging voice in the back of your head.

“Hi Josuke! I was hoping that I could maybe uhm, talk to you! About something that is. Something really important.” Your wavering voice had caused some concern to flash in Josuke’s eyes; the way he looked down at you with such a caring expression made you want to hide your face into a pillow and squeal.

He responded easily with, “oh sure, is everything alright?” Really, you weren’t even sure if things were alright or if they were going to be at all.

You doubts rose up again and a jumbled ball of words was suddenly caught in your throat, countless words and ways to say your thoughts conjuring up but not a single thing is said. If only you had more confidence — Rohan had spent so long trying to get you to perfect your confession and despite all that effort, you were still struggling.

Glancing down, you noticed that your fingers were a plain sign of your awkwardness. They constantly switched from fiddling with the fabric of your outfit to thumbs twiddling with each other, neither things helping you in the end.

“[F/N]...? You don’t look like your usual self, where’s that cute smile of your’s, huh?”

Oh god, did he just call your smile ‘cute’? Did that just make talking even harder or ten times easier? This boy was going to be the death of you!

Teeth lightly nibbled on your low lip as you argued in your head what to do. You really don’t know if you could ever have the courage to even approach him like this, let alone think about asking him out. Besides, all of Rohan’s efforts would go to waste.

“Josuke!” The sudden change of your volume had clearly surprised the teenager, his brows raising. “I— I have something serious to tell you and I’m sorry for making it so weird so far, it’s just really hard to get through what I want to say.”

Facing him was just too much. You couldn’t handle the idea of looking up to see an uncomfortable, angered, disgusted or any expression that would send you hurdling down a pit of regret. Instead, you stared down at the ground although you paid no real attention to it, your hand clutching at the clothing over your heart, almost as though you were trying to steady the rapid beating drums within your ribcage.

Taking in a deep breath, you continue, “I’m not the best at being outgoing or confident, and as my friend I know you know that, and you’re the exact opposite! You’re bold and kind to everyone and everything about you is incredible. Saying this I think I fully realised why I lo—.”

Again, the words are caught in your throat and you’re visibly struggling, almost choking on what you want to say. None of it goes unnoticed by Josuke, who had been initially taken back by the praise and tone you were using. His smile quickly returned when things became obvious to him, much softer and sweeter than before, his plush lips turning upward all thanks to your adorable stuttering.

He reached out with a large and surprisingly softer than you would have guessed hand, his palm resting against your cheek as he guided you to look up at him with both your eyes staring into each other’s.

“Do you want to come inside?”

The question was short and simple though it still took some time to process. You made a small, questioning ‘eh’ sound to which Josuke laughed at.

“You don’t have to stress so much, whatever you’re going to say I’m sure I’m going to like hearing,” he told you, stepping to the side so that you now had room to enter his house, a hand gesturing for you to come inside. “Maybe things would be easier if we had something to drink? My mum’s not home so we can watch a movie too!”

You had no idea how things got to this but you didn’t want to ask. If what Josuke said was true and that he was really going to like whatever you said then, why rush? It was probably better to wait for when the atmosphere was much more relaxed anyways. Things just seemed more right that way. The relationship between you and Josuke were always so casual so it was best to confess just like that. He was a serious God send to be so nice and understanding.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ before walking through the door with small pep in your step and butterflies swarming in a welcomed fashion in your stomach. Josuke followed you, closing the door behind him as the two of you started to strike up a conversation about your week and what movie the two of you wanted to watch, every worry and care flying free and becoming lost in the sky.

From across the street stood a smiling manga artist, ready to walk home with nothing but pride in his heart for his shy and growing friend. All he really had left to worry about was whether or not Josuke would treat you right.

#josuke higashikata #josuke x reader #jjba x reader #platonic #rohan x reader #but its platonic #request

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Text

your name (pt. 2)

❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3

summary: you find yourself in a familiar, but at the same time, new place.

author’s note: hi, everyone! :D this is the second part of the ongoing “your name” series~ ♡ this time, from your perspective! please enjoy, have a good day !! ☆(>ω・)

word count: 1,668

You woke up.

It was like a dream, like you had brought something back. You didn’t know what, but you were now awake. As you attempted to adjust to the darkness, all was quiet in the world. Until, you realized you had no idea where you were.

You quickly sat up from an uncomfortable position, the worn sofa beneath you doing nothing to help you feel better. Two separate stacks of unfamiliar papers surrounded both your sides as a T.V. was flashing colors against your shadow. Except… it wasn’t yours, per say. You looked over the sofa at the large shadow, moving your hand to see it do the same. This was real… but, who were you? When you reached into the person’s pockets to find some sort of a phone, you were disappointed to find a vintage, rundown flip phone weighing down the palm of your hand. Great, were you some sort of old man?

Trying not to scatter all the papers onto the ground, you took a careful step off the couch before hearing a sickening crack. This explained why you could barely see, as you crouched down to make out a pair of shattered glasses. You ignored the mess, moving away to find some sort of mirror. Instead, you discovered a barely lit studio apartment with everything wrong with it. The door was closed with a stool, half the lights didn’t work properly, and a distinct smell of cup noodles came from a broken microwave.

As you kept your hand on a wall to navigate, you began picking up small details that made this place home. The heavily marked calendar on the wall decorated the space, multiple photos of what seemed like student graduations neatly framed by the front, and certificates in psychology and education gave insight on who you were living through. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it felt like a place that made you trust the owner.

By the time you reached the bathroom door, you breathed a sigh of relief that the light didn’t cut out as you flipped the switch. When you looked into the mirror, you expected to see an aged teacher having a rough night of grading. Instead, you could see your expression form into shock at the reflection. You were… a college student? You knew that wasn’t the case considering the multiple Bachelor’s degrees, but you looked so young and old at the same time. It was like the person was physically young, but ancient from the way his hands automatically gripped the sink to keep himself up. You were looking into the eyes of a tired boy, and you could feel it in your bones that no amount of sleep could cure whatever he was going through.

You had to tear your eyes away to turn on the sink, waiting for the water to build up in your cupped palms. The water pressure was barely there, but it was what you needed to remind yourself this wasn’t a dream. For some reason, you had woken up in a random boy’s body in his no-good, terrible apartment. As you washed your face and met your reflection once again, you could sense the determination in the way his mouth formed a line. You were going to find out why you were here.

You took a moment to admire the body you were in. Although the boy seemed to carry the weight of the world upon his shoulders, he was doing rather well for himself. He had long, overgrown dark blue hair that just revealed his same-shade blue eyes. His eyes held the light of a student ready to learn, even after many years of strict academia. His features resembled one of a game protagonist, and you weren’t used to this tall height on your side. Even in just a striped shirt, you could tell he was beautiful in his own right.

“No matter what, I’ll find you again.” You said for absolutely no reason, with no one to hear except yourself—well, him. His voice didn’t take you by surprise; it was expectantly gentle and inherently kind, it was fitting to a light smile like his. You left the cramped bathroom with two goals in mind: 1. Figure out where you were, 2. Decide what to do next.

The room seemed lighter in comparison to before, meaning the sun must’ve been rising. You didn’t have to search long to find a passed-down clock by the sofa’s makeshift nightstand. The lines read it was nearing 5 A.M. as you identified an alarm was about to go off in exactly thirty minutes. Next, you were about to rummage around for any sort of geographic location before a loud car horn cut off your thoughts. Immediately snapping your head towards the opening, you saw a cracked open balcony hidden away behind a bookshelf. As you made your way through, you had no idea how you thought it was quiet. Although it was still the start of the day, you could already see a highway jam packed with automobiles going towards the big city. The buildings around you were nothing compared to the distant skyscrapers, and a realization occurred within you.

You were in Tokyo, Japan.

Before you could go watch what the T.V. was saying, a ring sounded from the flip phone. Hurrying to answer, you stood upon the balcony in an unfamiliar city you always dreamt of visiting. When you finally put the phone to your ear, you noticed how… modern urban accents were compared to your original rural one.

“Heya Tsumu-Tsumu! I knew you’d be awake, you crazy workaholic!” A loud voice made you wince as you flinched back from the sudden volume. Your silence didn’t deter—you looked at the contact—Miyoshi Kazunari as he rambled on. It was way too early for this type of energy, but you could spot college student caffeine addiction from a mile away.

“Lucky for you~,” Kazunari dragged out his vowels when he spoke. Not in a country way, but it was actually a stylistic choice all trendsetters seemed to have. “I’m also crazy! Just finished a project and I got an early morning class.” Kazunari made crying noises, and you genuinely didn’t know if they were exaggerated or he was having his midlife crisis breakdown. Too many things were running through your head, you could barely keep up with the bold personality Miyoshi Kazunari was. How the hell did a quiet person end up friends with an extrovert like Kazunari?

“And because I’m super smart, I know you’re usually grading papers or somethin’. Wanna get coffee today? I need it, bad.” Kazunari invited you to get coffee… but you barely knew your way around your own apartment, nevermind Tokyo. You were so lost in thought that Kazunari took your lack of response as a deafening “no”. A slightly awkward laugh interrupted the twenty seconds of silence, the noise suddenly much less confident than before.

“Ah… sorry, Tsumu-Tsumu. You’re probably too tired, right? You usually don’t want to go anyways, I don’t know why I asked.” Kazunari trailed off in a mumble, clearly discouraged already. Hearing this total stranger give up felt like kicking a puppy. You had no reason to agree, but you did anyway. You don’t know if it was you or “Tsumu-Tsumu” trying to reassure Kazunari.

“U-Um! No, let’s get coffee,” You paused, letting out a similar laugh that was obviously strained. “Kazunari?” It was Kazunari’s turn to be silent on the phone, before exploding into a pattern of shock and disbelief.

“KAZUNARI?! Yo, Tsumu-Tsumu! Are we suddenly BFFS now or what?! You’ve never called me by my first name before, you must be real sleepy!” Kazunari teased, but you could pick up on his revived energy and excitement about the day now. You responded with a laugh once again to show you were listening, and Kazunari took it as a sign to drop the sudden lack of honorifics between you two. As Kazunari said he’d message you the address of the “hottest cafe right now in all of Japan”, you mentally beat yourself up over the slip of tongue.

This Tsumu-Tsumu guy didn’t seem like the type to just call people by their first names. You hoped this wouldn’t severely affect anything for him in the long run. When Kazunari told you to be there by 7:30 A.M., he hung up and an instant message came with a winky emoticon and star symbol. The quiet finally gave you enough time to process everything that just happened.

You had agreed to meet a total stranger—well, to you—at a random cafe in the middle of the biggest city in Japan. You didn’t even know your own name. Staring out at the city you would soon find yourself in, you headed back inside and shut off the T.V. without another word. It was time to get ready and somehow figure out a way to get to… you checked the address again, Omi's House.

You checked the calendar from before and saw neat kanji of a name that felt familiar. “Tsukioka Tsumugi.” You read out loud, subconsciously tracing the characters with your finger. It felt right, you had no doubt it was this person’s name. You were quick to relax when you noticed Friday was the one day Tsumugi had off out of the entire week. You felt pitiful at how the one column of Fridays were being crowded by filled blocks of events, part-time gigs, and more work. When could Tsumugi just get a coffee?

Maybe, meeting Kazunari was a good thing. You found a brown peacoat hanging on the knob of the door and slipped it on. You said goodbye to an empty apartment, and left with no clue where you were going. All you had was a ripped bag and a newfound spark to your eyes.

You were Tsukioka Tsumugi, a random boy in Tokyo, and you were going to make the most of it.

#tsukioka tsumugi #tsumugi tsukioka #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tsumugi x reader #a3! tsumugi #a3 tsumugi

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outlaw-unicorn · 5 years ago

Text

How does Arthur Morgan's Dead Eye work?

Overanalyzing game mechanics and other fun activities

feat. just enough science to sound like I know what I’m talking about.

So what do we know about Arthur's Dead Eye?

time slows down

objects of interest sparkle

wind direction visible

enemies weak spots appear red

can be activated at will

cannot be used endlessly without recharging

Something like this is clearly just a game mechanic but maybe, just maybe, we can have some real world equivalents. Let's look at our first clue – Time slowing down

Now obviously, unless Arthur is a god messing about, time does not actually slow down. It just seems to. There are studies (x) analyzing exactly this phenomenon, most interestingly the experiences include:

The feeling of external time expanding and slowing down to a great extent.

Dominant mental quickness as demonstrated by the increased speed of thoughts.

There is often an altered sense of the duration of the event lasting longer than it actually does.

If possible, in the event in question, people often act fast and purposefully.

In the latter case, their attention is also altered and narrowly focused on the issues relevant for survival.

Unusually sharp vision or hearing.

And hoo boy, if that doesn't sound familiar.

A little harder to explain – though not impossible – is the visual representation of spots of interest.

Because why would you see red where there isn't any? The answer is – everyone does, you're doing it right now. (Well maybe not red per se but colors). Fun fact you cannot see colors at the edge of your field of vision because all the cones (the cells in your eye responsible for color vision) are located in the center of your retina. So what you're actually seeing is more like

Well that can't be right, I hear you say, I surely would have noticed. Except nope, because your brain is a sneaky bastard that loves to color in the the things you see. If you know a thing's color (maybe because you have seen it coming into the room) your brain will fill in the missing information for the whole picture. This can easily be proven in an experiment. You need at least two objects of the same shape with different colors and ideally another person. You need to fixate a point in front of you and then have the other person slowly move one of the objects into your field of vision from behind. Try guessing its color as soon as it appears in your field of vision – you will probably be wrong (unless you only have two objects bc fifty-fifty). Note: This doesn't work if you know which one you're going to see bc sneaky bastard brain.

Which proves – your brain already adds things your senses cannot perceive and paints it as This is what you're seeing, completely unmodified whatsoever, yessir. So it might as well add red for the area you KNOW to be a weak spot because we value usefulness over accuracy when it comes to perception. Great example:

The gray bar in the middle is only one shade of gray, yet it seems to be lighter on one side and darker on the other. There's something called lateral inhibition which your eye uses to enhance the contrasts to make those stand out more. And let's be honest – it's more important you see the tiger about to bite your head of than that you are able to tell the exact color of its stripes.

Evolutionary a dead eye would definitely be a huge advantage, being able to react in a split second and having an easier time finding whatever you're searching for. Does that mean everyone in the Red Dead world can do it? Probably not. Because there is one catch – heightened senses come at a cost. Do you know why tigers are so perfectly hidden with their bright orange stripes? Because their prey can't see red, they only have color-receptive cones for blue and green (unlike humans who have green, blue and red). The extra color-cone is so frigging expensive and also useless in low-light situations that they rather invested their energy into other senses. fyi the mantis shrimp has sixteen (16) color-receptive cones. (x)

Now Arthur doesn't have extra cones but we do have proof of the cost of using dead eye.

Empty your Dead Eye core and our boy is tired. His health is fine, so is his stamina but yet he looks somewhere between falling asleep where he stands and killer headache of doom. And you know what? If my brain did the equivalent of bench-pressing a semi I'd be tired, too. Which explains why the game constantly declares Arthur underweight despite just eating three deer and a rabbit. A normal person's brain uses 20 % of their energy – who knows how much energy a brain regularly going into dead eye overdrive needs. Boy was always skinny growing up because there wasn't enough food in the world to keep him fed with that kind of energy-drain.

This also fits nicely with a fan-theory I read somewhere about Arthur having a sweet tooth. Because besides being a sneaky bastard your brain is also a picky eater. The brain gets its energy from sugar alone – glucose to be exact – and it doesn't want anything else. Okay, if you were starving it can also use ketone bodies but that's it. So the next time you do some intense studying and afterwards really want some chocolate – that's your brain complaining about being low on sugar. (I mean technically you usually have enough sugar stored in your liver but who wants that when you can have chocolate).

So in conclusion rdr might be a lot more realistic than we ever thought.

FYI I also looked into other explanations, namely synesthesia and maybe something similar to light / dark adaptation. But neither really fits. It's probably not synesthesia (the perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. For example letters or numbers are perceived as inherently colored.) (x) because unfortunately according to my degree in Wikipedia science synesthesia is involuntary and automatic and as far as I can tell can't be turned off. Which means it would happen all the time not just when you press a button. Also, while it can occur between pretty much any senses it would raise the question why enemies weak spots are consistently colored red even though the wolves trying to eat you for dinner look nothing like O'Driscoll #23.

And light or dark adaption (something your eye does to get used to light conditions) simply takes too long. (9 – 10 minutes for light, up to hours for dark adaptation). So nothing like the instantaneous changes we have.

#meta #dead eye #Arthur Morgan #my stuff #if this is what I do with my free time I should probably reconsider my life choices

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