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wordsvomit101 · 10 months ago

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I'm a random cringe teenager in school, we are not in Euphoria dude.

Author note: It is from Leviathan's pov because I do not want to come back to that dark time that closely, both of my arms shag to the ground when I thought back to it. Plus I need to write something else besides the quiz or else I might flip. Warnings: OOC, you might not relate to this MC, Leviathan being weird.

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(Lunch Break)

"Stop moping. I can't stand that idiotic sulking face of yours. Either get out of my sight or speak quickly," he snapped, hitting the right button as your mouth, busy chewing rice, halted to gulp it down before you began yammering nonstop.

"I don't know what I was doing back then, dude. I should just cooperate with them but I tried to act cool and know it all. Fuck! It was so bad and I sound like a total asshole! I might need to change the table," you lamented, as if not bothering to breathe.

You sit across him in the cafeteria, the space humming with the cacophony of annoying mortals and the frigid metallic scent of their food trays. The students' chatter is a relentless torrent, bouncing off the walls and reaching into every corner of the room. It's relentless, grating, and suffocating. It's the sound of a thousand conversations overlapping, each one clamoring for attention, each one more meaningless than the last. He tries to focus on the disgustingly low-quality food and your voice, to block out the noise, but it's impossible. The clatter of trays, the scrape of chairs, the mindless babble—it's all too much. He feels his fingers twitching, his palms itching to cover his ears and shut out the world, or maybe just slaughter all of them.

"The rest of the class was ok, I think, but I can see how they uncomfortably sit and not look back at me. Oh my god, I didn't just set off a series of bullying in my second year in high school, did I? Shit, I definitely did," you rambled on.

"Then how is it my problem?"

You look up at him with all the innocence those eyes could muster, yet hiding the aggravating angel-like rat behaviors. You give him another vein on the neck.

"You silly goose, you stuck with me for too long, and after all we've gone through, you have to share this with me. I stuck through your cringe emo phase when we were in middle school so this is the least you could do, you ungrateful brat," you chided him in a tone an older sibling would, and it only made him want to choke you from across the table.

It was maddening. Despite your apparent introversion, you never remained isolated for long. Even when you occupied a seat by yourself, you were always within the watchful gazes of at least three others. He had once witnessed you sitting alone in a classroom, but within five minutes, you had hastily gathered your belongings and hurried off to an extracurricular activity, your punctuality bordering on par with those from Niflheim, which is not appreciated in this situation.

Now he has to sit here and listen to your endless yapping again while surrounded by these stank mortals. Their pungent socks and unwashed body odors assaulted his delicate nostrils. Sharing your sensory experience became a curse as he lamented the existence of his sensitive nose. The stench from a table away was an unbearable torment, something that only that vixen Beelzebub and his cronies would enjoy.

"Ughh, I'm so fucked, you will be fine for sure but I don't know when my resting bitch face effect run out. Oh, can you eat this for me? Thanks, I don't have the will to try to eat them today."

"When did I say I-"

"Just eat them, will you? Plus my parents and I once bet on how tall you will be in the future. They both said you will be in the 6-foot range but I said 6'3 so grow faster for me," nonchalantly you quickly interrupted him with another story that your mind made up to patch up the holes his presence left.

You already put all the vegetables on his tray before he could say anything and get back to stuffing those cold things you called pork into your mouth again. Despite his genuine attempts to offer alternative snacks and better choices from nearby vendors, you remained steadfast in your refusal, compelling him to endure these demeaning moments alongside you. Annoyingly preaching something about saving money despite how you impulsively bought them both two bags of crab chips and bottles of banana milk the next day... If he threw it away you would be both sad and angry at him, possibly even not talking to him again for weeks unless he explains why so he, humiliatingly, chews those junks down his throat... It wasn't bad, at least.

But your smug looks ruin that moment and even dare to tease him about it despite your cheeks being stretched out by him like useless dough.

All the times he tried to initiate something with you, small or big, you outright gave him a funny disgusted look that was different from how those vile angels did but got on his nerves all the same. One time you even poked his eyes and screamed bloody murder, grinning childishly all the while, before he chased you around the school grounds, making a scene for the whole student body like some kind of circus. It's still a mystery how you manage to outrun him despite your less-than-stellar PE scores.

"What's with that grumpy look? You look like a monkey that just ate a hot chili—A good-looking one, of course, so chill your ass down, bro, that look could give a grandmother a heart attack."

... He had often contemplated the violent retribution he could inflict upon you—hanging you high by the neck or sending you tumbling down the unforgiving steps for each careless barb you hurled his way, only to watch you brush it off with a nonchalance that made it seem like nothing. In the reality of your usual demeanor, you would shy away from his gaze and hide your thoughts in your polite smile, an unspoken pact of avoidance. But now, you were a stranger to your former reserve, an uncharted territory in which your words flowed freely, unlike the distance you put around yourself toward everyone... It's grating as much as it is refreshing.

"I should cut your tongue off one of these days so you wouldn't spew nonsense all the time."

"Ah shush buddy, I would already be buried by now if you took your threat seriously. Also, what is our next class? Math? Shit, did we have homework in math? I can't remember, I only cramp on our literature work."

He learns something else about you that only makes him want to hurl you through the wall. Despite having all the time in the world, you whine and moan when it comes to your duties but you read through those meaningless comics and binge-watch countless romance dramas online, swooning over fictional humans whose appearances barely reach half his height almost every night. Instead of making good use of your time, you ignore the genuine thing right next to you. He should have twisted your nose off your face when you laughed at his face back then.

He ignored the flutter in his ribcage when he thought back to your smiling face, carefree and looking up at him with playfulness as you took joy in his frustration.

"Your stupidity never ceases to astound me. We have a test tomorrow, you bull-headed rat." Standing up, he took both of their trays to the table to be cleaned later. He didn't eat much besides the gross vegetables you put on his tray and waited for you to finish eating. As you two walked, you continued to talk incessantly, and he had to suffer through the noise.

"Aiya, stop with that snobby ass speech and help me study. At least I remember the formula, you know? An achievement for people like me who suck at it! You should be proud of your homie."

"I would be disappointed in myself if I ever am proud of the likes of you, you ange- rat."

Glancing down at you, your gazes ahead and not a bit bothered, it made him want to wipe it off your face and make you red with anger and embarrassment like that time… but you would never accept it, nor would your eyes give him the same reaction he was starting to get used to. Getting used to this mundane routine, the normalcy of this setting was so much different compared to schools in Hades. It was peaceful. It made him want to hold your hand…

"Hey."

Your serious tone of voice broke him out of his thoughts. When he glanced back, you were frowning, contemplating… You were realizing the differences again, this was the 35th time you did this. He admits he underestimated you when he first got into your memory zone. You almost blasted him with thunder magic the first time you uttered that human's name after he refused to join you to go to the anime convention for the 6th time. He envied how just by a mere utterance of that wretched name, you easily broke out of your trance.

Like last time, your eyes didn’t have that foggy glaze over them but were becoming brighter again.

"Have you ever talked like an old man like that?… And have you always had those horns before? Your voice sounds deeper too…"

But no matter, it was an easy fix, some rearranging, and good leading words would do. Before your gaze looked away from his and your smile went cold again, he quickly took out your favorite flavor lollipop from his pocket and unwrapped it easily between his hands, acknowledging how you were becoming more tense each second and your eyes almost fully cleared even without looking at you.

"Are you-"

"Hmph, you must have a lot of time to even question things like this."

Gently shoving the lollipop into your mouth and taking in your shocked face, his heart was unconsciously at ease when you calmed down after tasting the familiar treat between you and that human. You gazed up at him with a goofy smile, humming a tune as you continued walking to class together, the tension between you dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

"Did you buy it from the vendor? I thought they were out of this flavor today- Ah wait, I need to finish this quick. How much time do we have left until class starts?"

As you two entered, he swiftly slipped into his seat, cutting you off. The class was strewn with a sparse gathering of students, as per the norm… Tch.

"Not a single ‘thank you’, it seems you’re the ungrateful one. I should let you rot once that test comes around."

"Hah?! H-hey I get it alright?… I’m sorry ok? Sorry for taking you for granted."

As you settled into the seat before him, a sense of remorse washed over you, reflected in the apologetic gaze you cast upon him. It was as if your eyes carried the weight of a thousand regrets, and he could almost visualize your invisible ears drooping in a display of pitiful sorrow. With a hesitant glance upwards, you met his gaze, mirroring the submissive demeanor of some of his summoned creatures, evoking a sense of empathy tinged with a hint of melancholy.

… Funny, that was how you looked at him when you brought that whip on his back. Not like this, it was not one where he could sense the disgust you had for yourself as you held back from apologizing. That might be one of the last times you were ever expressive toward him.

"I’m sorry… and thank you for buying this for me, and for the many other times you did."

Your voice was softer now, almost like a whisper, yet honest all the same as your eyes never strayed from his. However, he preferred that impish grin you usually directed at him than this.

"Heh, like I need your worthless apology. Finish it quickly, the teacher is coming."

In a swift and unspoken gesture, you couldn't help but emit a soft snort and playfully nudge his arm, a silent indication of your camaraderie. With a subtle yet meaningful exchange, you effortlessly returned to your designated spot, sinking into your seat as you savored the sweet crunch of your lollipop. In that fleeting moment, the weight of somberness that loomed above both of you dissipated into the ether, replaced by an unspoken understanding and a false sense of lightness.

"Geez, way to ruin a nice apology, you jerk."

"…"

The veneer of normalcy would inevitably crack, the charade becoming an unsustainable burden. As the school bell pierced the air, summoning students into the classroom and the teacher embarked on the lesson, his gaze fell upon your slouched posture, a telltale sign of your mind already drifting off to daydreaming. When the final bell tolled, signaling the end of class, he alone would carry the weight of these fleeting moments and a poignant reminder of the unspoken connection that had flickered between you.

'… For now, let me savor this a little bit longer.'

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb mc #whb oc #whb leviathan #wordsvomit notes

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happyvoidharmony · 2 years ago

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Liking

Found : FF.net AO3

“Do you even like me ?”

It haunted him like a 90’s song on repeat. And her eyes. Blue like the deepest sea. With the deepest worry within them. If only he had answered. If only he hadn’t just stood there, gaping at the young woman like some idiot. Worry didn’t look right on her, not with so many bows and pink on her dress. It made her look even sadder.

It was ironic. If she had worn her dark clothes and boots, and the deep frown he knew her, she wouldn’t have looked just as sad. Just more emo. But she didn’t wear those anymore. She wore long dresses in so many colors it would be too long to list them all. Yellow, pink, some still black but the last time he had seen one was almost three months ago, just before the Grand Magic Games had ended and with them, the team they both belonged to.

Not that he cared that much about that team. He had his own, and, maybe they weren’t perfect with their stupid interests and fights, maybe they weren’t as strong and sometimes very aggravating, but they were his team. And he did kind of enjoyed having one, a real team, not just pretending bodyguards that followed him everywhere and did his every bidding.

Because that was tiring. And lonely.

They were still weird around him though, still hesitated a lot before being honest with him, before disagreeing with whatever he had said before. Apparently, that took some effort. Or maybe he hadn’t quite succeeded at making himself less scary, and inaccessible.

Because apparently that was his goal now. Being less arrogant, out of reach, maybe mean was the word. And more down to earth, approachable, friendly. And god was that hard.

People had more or less deemed him inapproachable since forever, since he had gotten that scar at least. And he could get that really. He wouldn’t come and spark up conversation with someone that looked like a hitman for the mob either. But he still tried.

“Do you even like me ?”

He didn’t know. He felt like he didn’t know her. Like she lived a million miles away, out of reach, out of perception. He didn’t know what to say to her.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

It was hard to like someone that felt like a stranger.

He thought she was beautiful.

Honestly.

She always had been beautiful. He had his reservations at first, with the whole pink and bow thing. It felt so very strange. Compared to the whole black skirt and thorn shit from before, it was so very strange. Not that she didn’t rock it. She looked good in anything. Probably one of the perks of true natural beauty. Or maybe it was just him, maybe she could look like a total disaster and he would still find her beautiful. Not that he would ever tell her that.

She was hot too. That he would tell. Like breathtakingly hot. There were days he wondered how anyone could go on with their day without getting their eyes glued up to her ass. And other places. It was so fucking hard. So many times he caught himself staring so hard he swore he could have carved holes into her body. But he always hid it. Didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, especially since she had seemed to change her mind and forget all about him.

Until she caught him. And he tried to own it, because getting caught was one thing, but chickening out was a totally different one. And honestly, he had never seen someone getting so red so fast. Which was weird, because he’d think that after trying to bone her ass so many times, she’d at least know that he had to be staring sometimes. But no, her cheeks fired up like a poppy until the demon kicked in and before he even knew it, he was caught in some hot flirty game that somehow ended in his bed. And his couch two weeks after. Until she had to leave because of her siblings still being up and worried.

And that was it. She avoided him now. Sometimes blushed a little when she caught him glancing. But never getting back in the game. Which was weird because she was the one that had invented it. He did try to talk to her but she would always be too busy, jumpy, and fled at his mere approach. Even after another job and a good week, she still wouldn’t talk to him. So, he stared. Tried to decipher what the hell could be going on in that pretty little head of hers. Tried to catch her eyes to read something in them.

They were quite expressive. Her eyes. He had always loved them. They were so blue. Fuck, that sounded stupid, but they did have that hypnotizing thing. Something about the color. And the emotions that seemed to turmoil inside. She always had been emotional. Even with her angry glare, it was still angry. Whether she cried, or screamed, or schemed, or tried to put him a facer. It was still raw. And passionate. And so very much like her. And he did like that.

Maybe that was the biggest change. Maybe the one thing that definitely wasn’t like her, was the happy poker face she always seemed to have on. Honestly he didn’t care about her pretending to be stupid to lure money in. She was an idealist, but she definitely wasn’t stupid, or genuinely coy. Maybe that was her own way of being less threatening, so people would forget she could destroy a table just by stepping on it. And it seemed to be working. Maybe he could learn from that.

Maybe he could learn how she managed to always seem interested in whatever bullshit people blathered at her. He listened to crumbs from time to time, with his headphones still on, so nobody would suspect him overhearing. They always seemed to forget he had a dragon slayer ear anyway. And god was it boring. One day he spent an entire evening wondering how long she could take about Macao’s accounting problems before throwing her own cash register at his head. But she only listened, didn’t even offer any kind of advice, just nodded, and smiled, and empathized like she was genuinely caught by the problem.

Maybe she was. He didn’t know anymore. He could have sworn the old Mira, if that was a decent way to call her, wouldn’t have cared two pennies about his bullshit story. And up until recently, he thought it was all just an act, that she was still the same inside, just terrified of being alone again. But now he didn’t know anymore.

He didn’t know her anymore.

And he didn’t know how to get to know her again. It wasn’t like he could repeat history. Lure her back into being his friend to receive her thoughts.

“I don’t know how you handle all that shit.” He tried one day. As she was the wiping the glass the last chatterbox had left behind. But she only frowned at him and shrugged.

“I like hearing people’s stories.” She simply answered as she put the glass down and proceeded to pour him the pint he ordered.

“How ?” He smirked, he might have been a little too arrogant on that one, because she frowned even deeper. Maybe he didn’t know what made her happy anymore, but he could still definitely tell when she was getting annoyed at him. “I mean, why ?”

She smiled a bit and shrugged again. “I guess I just find people interesting.”

“People, maybe.” It felt harder than it should to hear that coming from him, from the way she eyed him. “But not their groceries and accounting stories.” He tried to chuckle, but she wouldn’t let him. Just sighed and shrugged yet again, and he was the one getting annoyed at that.

“I don’t know.” Oh, but she knew. “I just feel like people get the most real about mundane things.”

And there she went, to wait on some random that had called out, and hear all about his life. So he gave up on it and went back upstairs with his beer. It’s not like she was going to wonder about him anyway.

She was too busy for that.

She always had been hardworking. Only Erza could compete with her on that front. Always so focused. Even as a broke thirteen-year-old. Especially as a broke thirteen-year-old with two other kids to look after. She used to train so hard he sometimes caught her walking home with broken ribs, actually had to make her visit Polyussica once or twice. It terrified him sometimes, how far she could get, and he wasn’t the last one to exceed his limits. After the second time though, he did have to rat her out to the old man to make sure she wouldn’t kill herself. But she would never stop.

Even now, in a much tranquiller life, she still refused to step down, took so few days off, she had to be forced so the old man wouldn’t be arrested for violating workers’ rights. Not that she would take any money for helping with the administrative work and even took care of him, which was also not on her paycheck. Not that the old man hadn’t offered her to put it there several times.

But no, she was simply unstoppable. Until he tried.

“What is it you’re thinking so hard about tonight ?” The old man had asked him that night, after he just came back from his job and somehow ended up having dinner with him in the house he had mostly grown up in. But he only shrugged to the question, he was annoying like that.

“Is it a girl ?”

He only received a death glare but that didn’t seem to destabilize him.

“Did you have a fight with one of them recently ?”

He didn’t answer but he could definitely the weight of his glare exploring the blonde’s face as it sighed from desperation.

“Or is there one in particular ?” He was definitely annoying too.

“I’m fine.”

He only slowed down not to finish his plate too fast, or he would be left with nothing else but to find a lie to tell.

“Well, I’m from the old school, as you’ve probably guessed.” Nothing ever stopped him either. “But I always find that flowers work wonders with women.”

He lifted an eyebrow, then.

“Except if she has pollen allergy.”

He scoffed and grunted, trying to mutter again that that wasn’t the problem but clearly wasn’t convincing enough.

“Except if she doesn’t like flowers either. Then, you should never, and I mean it, never get flowers for her then. It will only convince her that you don’t care about what she wants. And believe me, you don’t want that.”

Someone, make it stop.

“But if she does like them, then believe me, it doesn’t matter if it seems a bit too easy or cliché even for her, it’s worth a try. No matter why she’s mad at you…”

He did growl a bit, and sent him the most frightening glare he could get out, and planted his fork a little bit too hard into the plate, but a lot less than he had wanted to. Progress came with time.

“Alright, alright.” The old man exclaimed and went back to his own plate with a loud sigh. “Solve your own problems alone, if you’re such a grump.” Still didn’t flinch under the weight of his death glare though.

Like that was going to solve anything.

It’s not like he knew if she even liked flowers.

Surely, she did, right ?

He did go back though. To the guild. Even if it was so late. Especially because it was so late. He was growing sick of the silent treatment like he was the only one guilty there. If she had changed her mind about him, then the least thing she could do was informing him so. Because he had other things to do than wonder about her demonic ways. And he would tell her. Tonight. Maybe not as an ultimatum, but just some kind of clarification in case she was confusing him with some random she could string along to lick the ground behind her.

But the guild wasn’t empty. He thought it would be, but maybe that was the reason it wasn’t closed yet. There were still some people getting drunk and laughing way too loudfor his liking. So he didn’t jump on her immediately. Because the last thing he wanted was other people, guildmates, butting into his business and snitching to the old man about him. No, it was private matter. So, he simply settled again at the counter and ordered his evening drink. Whiskey. Stat.

She did kind of look taken aback at his view. Batted her eyes a little before fetching the bottle. Even if she already knew he was back in town.

“Weren’t you supposed to have dinner with the master tonight ?” She asked while filling the glass, just a little too much, must have picked up on his mood. He shrugged.

“Please tell me you two didn’t fight again.” She smirked a bit, still staring at him as she counted the register of the day. How she could multitask that way, that, he would never understand.

“No.”

He might have answered a bit too quickly. “He just tired me.”

“Oh.” She grinned. “So what ? You’re going to drink your sorrows here until the earth turns around and you two magically get along again ?”

Well, at least she was still a bully.

“Well, it did work for Erza and you.” She did still raise her eyebrows too. “I’m just hopeful.” He added as he emptied the glass and gave her the sign to fill it again.

“Well…” She put the bottle back down. “I think whiskey had a lot more to do with that than the earth turning back on its axis.”

He did chuckle at this one, or maybe he was just getting drunk. Maybe that could explain why she suddenly looked so damn hot again. Maybe he was doomed. Doomed to stare at her until his eyes fell out flat on the ground, or until she got sick of it and beat the hell out of him until he dug his way down there.

She only ignored it for now. And he wasn’t hiding it. They were practically alone anyway. Just some leftover drunks that called out to her to get a refill. He did take a sip but he should too definitely slow down on the booze if he didn’t want her to wipe his ass from the ground. It was her ass that desperately needed some attention.

He did like her smile too. When she greeted some of the people outside. Even if it wasn’t quite the same as before. He wondered if that one he knew was gone for good. If maybe, he should have imprinted it a bit more on his mind. The joyful, genuine grin she had between two very aggressive growls. Maybe if he had known it would become so rare. Or that he wouldn’t be invited anymore when it did get out.

Fuck, that sounded sad.

“All sorrows not drunk yet ?” She did take him out of his reverie. He didn’t even notice when he had stopped watching.

“Nope.” He did empty his glass again though. “But, maybe it could go faster if you drank them with me.” He almost forgot to send a look down the hall, to assure no one had heard his bold pathetic attempt at getting a date, because that would spread around like wildfire. But there were completely alone now. So he just glared back at her.

And there it was. Not the smile but the glance. The knowing glance. The only one that indeed confirmed he wasn’t completely delusional, and they were indeed something. Something more than just guildmates that occasionally joked around. And he didn’t know he needed that. The annoyed, playful, demonic glare that told him he was walking on damn thin ice.

Not that he indeed gave one damn.

Until she slammed another glass just before his face, and proceeded to install herself on the stool next to him. She called his bluff, fine.

He tried to gather himself. Because, alcohol or no alcohol, he was getting kind of nervous at this development. Even avoided her glare discreetly as she calmy sipped down her own glass of whiskey and waited for his confession.

It was time.

Time for the big talk, the not so ultimatum he had to give her so this whole charade would finally end. The time to tell her he wasn’t planning on following her around for the next two more years. The time to decide if they would ever be like that again. Alone. Personal. Intimate. And it was sad.

Because fuck, he didn’t want it to end.

“You know, I did think about it and I don’t think mundane stories are as boring as you make them out to be.”

Well, maybe it didn’t have to end today.

“And what’s so enthralling about tomatoes, huh ?” He took a sip without getting his eyes off her pensive frown. He liked when she got lost into thoughts, she always had that little pout that could be weirdly classified as cute. She seemed a bit more natural then. To his own standards. She had stopped with the ever-staying smile and high-pitched remarks. She looked more serious, deep in whatever reflection could be going on about leeks and potatoes.

“I just think you can’t ever know someone if you don’t know what their everyday looks like.”

He grunted in semi-approval, but he honestly hadn’t really thought about it that way. He definitely knew what her day-to-day could be going on, didn’t mean he had the slightest clue about who she was. Since he couldn’t even tell if she would try to make him swallow the flowers whole if he ever bought her some. Knowing at what time she was doing inventory didn’t change anything to it.

And even if she did like them, it didn’t mean she could like any type of flowers. Didn’t some women care about sorts, and colors, and meanings or stuff ? Because he didn’t know anything about it. Thank god he didn’t listen to the old man because that clearly sounded like some elaborate trap where you could get ghosted for getting pink roses instead of carnations, or whatever they were supposed to be called, or even the red roses. They were surely better ways to die.

Would she even kill him ? Metaphorically, nobody was talking about killing anybody here. But could she still get angry ? He felt like she could recently, during their recent intercalations, when she was drunk or particularly vexed about something. But she never felt mad. At least not like the fiery pit she used to. Maybe he was the one that wanted her to get furious. To shove him against a wall, try to get a knife below his throat, or just yell very loudly at him. And fuck, did he hate the yelling, hurt his ears like hell. But still, just to show she still cared. They were bound to fight anyway, and if he had to choose between her getting angry or cry. He knew which one he liked better.

It took him a while to notice she had stopped talking. Stared at him blankly, with worry spread all around her eyes that bore holes into his face. Fuck. He did mean to listen. Guess he just zoned out again. And she had noticed. Fuck, fuck. How stupid did he have to be ? It was only going to get harder to convince her to talk to him alone. Fuck. Stupid. Or maybe, she was going to pin it on his “fight” with his grandfather. Yes, that was his chance. He just had to make her believe he was a bit distraught about it and she would forget about his stupidness.

If only she didn’t stare at him like that, didn’t lift her eyebrows with that demonic glare clearly pissed off at his lack of consideration. Or maybe that was the hand on her thigh. Fuck, he hardly even noticed he had it there. Not that he took it off, chickening out and everything… It felt nice anyway. And she hadn’t said anything, so maybe she didn’t even notice either. Unlikely ? maybe. But she must not have been too bothered by it, or she would have said something, right ? Not that he wanted her to think he was only interested in one thing from her, because that was certainly not the case. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here making a fool of himself like that.

This whole shit was getting a bit too hard on his brain.

He saw her smirk. So maybe they were okay. She did take a breath to say something, but he didn’t let her.

“Do you like flowers ?”

He kind of blurted it out. He knew it because she widened her eyes so much, they seemed bigger that he ever though they could be. And she got red. Like instantly. Good thing to know he was still doing that too. And looked down with some semi-held back chuckle. It was still hot too.

“Wh-what…?”

He did see her teeth now, so he definitely took her by surprise.

“Flowers.” He tried again, never chickening out was his motto. “Do you particularly like them or not ?”

She was so red he thought she was going to explode.

“Well…” He saw her blink to get some answer out. “I do have a garden.”

He almost spit his drink out.

“A what now ?”

She blinked.

“You know, like a thing to grow plants in.” She was amusing him now. “I mean, it’s more like a vegetable garden, really, but I do have some flowers in it.”

“So, you like them ?”

She blushed again. “Well yeah… I mean, not every kind… but still.”

Huh, definitely a trap then. Or maybe he should go get a look at that garden just to make sure he wasn’t digging his own tomb.

“Lisanna does most of the watering too… since I don’t have much time and…”

She must have thought he zoned out again, because she suddenly stopped and looked down to her glass to swallow the rest in one hit as he stared again. And god, that skin of hers did feel nice on his hand. And she still didn’t seem to mind. Only gave him the glare. And fuck it was hot. But it would look even nicer on that counter if only he could gather the right timing to get her butt on it. And that back of hers. And she would stare at him with those eyes and it would just…

He had to stop. Or do something. One or the other. If only she could stop breathing so close because that was definitely wasn’t helping his hard-on to slow down. Or breathe closer, either way was good. Fuck, she smelled good too. Like jasmine, and vanilla, and sweat. He couldn’t explain it. But it wasn’t helping. And making him a bit crazy. Like turning her over that counter and make her taste the wood kind of crazy. She did like it rough. That he knew.

And why wasn’t he doing it again ?

Oh yeah, because he didn’t want her to think it was the only thing that drove him here. Maybe he should just stop thinking about it. Or stop thinking at all.

Yeah, maybe that was the best option.

Option she obviously didn’t consider.

He did feel her hand tremble a little when she grabbed his face to make him look straight back again to her. Even if the crash of her lips that followed didn’t at all. And he didn’t ask any more questions. Practically jumped on her to grip her all and finally get her on that counter that was this close to obsess him. And she probably expected it because she only threw her arms around his back to force him close and shove her tongue right into his mouth.

And the grabbing. Fuck he missed it. Hadn’t changed one bit. Even grew more aggressive and restless. She was less shy, didn’t hesitate before gripping his shirt to slide her hands under it. Almost bit him as he grunted, just a little. But he wasn’t going to let her have her way. Almost tear her dress apart when he tried to free her chest from what was to him a terrible prison. Heard her whimper as the grasp roughed even harder on her butt and felt just how warm and restless she must have felt all this time. Or maybe that was just him.

He didn’t think he had waited this long for this, but now he knew he had been this close to dying.

Fuck, even her breath was hot. And those moans. He could have killed himself right there just to get another one. Not that he needed too.

If only he could have gotten just one more before she pulled away when they were done.

She was breathing so roughly he worried for three seconds he had been too harsh. But then remembered he was pretty much in the same state and just collapsed on the stool back again to get the minimum clothes back on. Not that she cared.

She was actually even more gorgeous that way. All spread out on the counter with that long dress of hers hitched above her knees, barely even covering that her underwear was long gone with her bra that probably laid down somewhere behind the bar. Not that he minded, he always thought her breasts looked way better without any kind of incarceration. Because it was a crime at this state.

She was still panting when she looked back at him and blushed all over again at the staring. Cute, yes, but not only. With her bangs all stuck to her forehead by the sweat. And if biology wasn’t against him, he might have gotten another boner just from that view. She had that smile too. The one he liked better than any other kind.

He did walk her home that night. Would have walked her way farer if she hadn’t declined his invitation. Because she had to get up early and make breakfast in the morning for those dorky siblings that obviously couldn’t even manage to make their own breakfast alone. Maybe he should find a way to get Ever to make Elfman get a cooking class. Lisanna would surely follow just to make fun of them the whole time, but it was an almost flawless plan. Didn’t mean he couldn’t be a gentleman until he found a way to enforce it.

He was even motivated to hear about whatever story she wanted, but for some reason she had gotten quite silent since she had gotten her clothes back on.

“You’re okay ?” He found a way to ask a few blocks from the guild.

But she only had a sad smile when she nodded. And he didn’t like that. It got him nervous, even if he couldn’t think about one thing he could have done to upset her between their heated session on the counter and now. Maybe he should have offered to clean it before they took off, or maybe that was too stupid a question to be the problem at hand.

He tried to focus back on her but she still seemed determined to walk silently. And he wasn’t going to engage. They had a strict share of tasks, and he wasn’t the talker here. If only he had quit his idiotic thinking before they climbed the stairs to her doorway and she turned back to face him, still silent and back to trembling a little. And he knew he had to do something.

He wanted to kiss her. A lot. And grab her everywhere again. But for some reason he got afraid she might recoil at his touch. So, he settled for her cheek. Just one kiss, a bit too long to be friendly. She didn’t pull away but she did stare at him awkwardly before her cheeks got red and she turned back to unlock her door as he walked back down. But he could still feel her glance when he passed the small gate.

“Laxus ?” He turned back. A little bit too fast but she didn’t seem to notice.

She did look sad there. All alone in the night surrounded by the silence. Up the steps, glaring down, almost teary as their eyes met. Her voice was shaking, and it left him kind of astounded when she articulated the words that would have him spiraling for the next two weeks.

“Do you even like me ?”

Desperately.

“Do you even like me ?”

But fuck, was that hard.

“Do you even like me ?”

Because if she could ask that. Then maybe it was doomed. Maybe it wasn’t even worth trying.

“Do you even like me ?”

Or maybe he was just going crazy.

#fairy tail #miraxus #mira x laxus #laxus x mirajane #laxus dreyar #mirajane strauss #makarov dreyar

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valetoria · 4 months ago

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`· . ❛ content warnings. ❜ perverted choso kamo. voodoo. non-consensual. raw penetration. coercion. 18+ content.

choso always takes a seat behind you during art class, secretly admiring you with pragmatic, heart shaped eyes while his assignment lies forgotten. his attention is completely enthralled by you, and if anyone else saw him staring at you like that, they’d most definitely think he was a freak. he eyes your back profile, cherishing the fall of your pretty hair cascading over your shoulders and how it flows down your back, studying the way your arms extend, propped on the table to support your lean as you immerse yourself in your work.

“choso, stop staring at her and get back to work,” the professor sighs, and choso jolts out of his daze at the sudden reprimand, his focus on you breaking abruptly. you curiously turn around by the professor’s scolding, and your gaze meets a pair of flustered brown eyes. the male’s ears turn mildly red, immediately diverting his stare elsewhere. your arm jerks awkwardly at the distraction, and it causes the sharp blade of the scissors to slip, accidentally nicking your finger.

with a wince, you quickly bring your finger to your mouth and stand up from your chair to get a band-aid. choso's eyes dart to the scissors—glancing around the room before he leans over and snatches the bloodied pair.

the perfect touch to his project he was working on, and without another thought, he snugly tucks it into his bag.

. . .

you return a few minutes later, searching questioningly for the pair of scissors you were using earlier, and you even look underneath your table, but they are nowhere to be found.

how odd.

you turn to the last resource you could think of—the boy with dark hair styled into two messy buns, a few strands of hair falling loosely and framing his undeniably gorgeous features.

choso kamo, the quiet, reserved, and stereotypical hot emo guy everyone rants about.

you’ve never really talked to him, mainly because you think he’s a little weird with the constant times you’ve caught him staring at you. so, you hesitate for a moment, clearing your throat, mustering up the courage to ask him about your mysteriously missing scissors.

“hey, by any chance, have you seen my scissors?”

choso blinks, completely caught off guard as his dark eyes skim around the classroom, and for a second, he’s just dumbfounded, idiotically staring at you as if he’s fucking stupid.

“uh—i, um… no, haven’t seen them,” he straightforwardly lies, as if he hadn’t just stole them—yet, he initially trips over his words and he mentally cursed himself for sounding so slow.

you hum, not pushing it upon hearing his response, so you decide to just let it go. “okay, mind if i borrow your scissors, then?” you ask, gesturing to the untouched pair of black scissors laying on his desk as his ears start to turn red again. you smile, and you notice how, for some reason, he always gets so jittery whenever you stare back at him or, on rare occasions, talk to him.

. . .

a cloud of unease rolls into the pit of your stomach, and your fingers clench around your pen. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, and that’s when your body stiffens in your chair, thighs instinctively clenching together as you feel a large, unidentifiable object splitting your velvety walls open.

holy shit.

you instantly clasp a hand around your mouth to stifle the moan threatening to escape your ruby glossed lips. your body tenses, goosebumps prickling up your skin while the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

what the hell?

. . .

choso leans against the cool tile wall of one of the bathroom stalls, his breath coming out in choppy, short circuted breaths as his mind whirls lewd thoughts of you—you looked too damn edible for your own good. the way you spoke to him, the way you bent over as your skirt hitched up exposing the curve of your ass as the fabric hardly made efforts to cover you brought him to his knees.

his thick digits wrap around his hard-on, stroking his bulge that had been painfully aching since he'd been eye fucking you earlier in class. shit. a groan tumbles from his slightly ajar lips, his hand gripping his throbbing cock as he aligns himself with the opening between the special replica of you. he slowly pushes in, imagining your flustered expression, and the confusion evident through your knitted brows as the helplessness etches on your face when you grow aware of the sudden feeling of your walls being stretched wide open.

situated in the farthest row of desks in your psychology class, you bite back a moan as you feel a slippery stir between your legs, a fleeting sting that dispersed into bliss. choso's hands tremble, and without wasting another second he pulls back, just until his pudgy tip teased the dolls socket, lightly thrusting into the soft cotton-lined hole inside that clung onto his gooey shaft, and you feel it again—your walls contracting against something as his mushroom tip nudges your cervix.

you lean back, your spine hitting the cold surface of the backseat as your fingers grip the edge of the desk for dear life, knuckles blanching as choso works himself deeper into the doll and it syncs to you, the nirvana pulsing through your veins as the color drains from your face. a quiet gasp slips past your lips which you swiftly disguise as a cough. your eyes flicker around the room nervously, and you can palpably feel the ridges of the veins on the underside of his cock as your plush walls squeeze him, accustoming to the stretch.

his hand tightens around the doll, mimicking the tightness he craved as his shaft disappears into the fluffy fiber. your thighs clamp shut and the sudden pace fastens. subconsciously, you begin to dig your nails into the wooden planes of the table, shifting your hips and trying to ground yourself as choso pumps the doll on his rock solid length—a cry evoking his lips. he’s pathetically whimpering your name, and choso’s weak at the thought of ravishing you without even having to lay a single digit on you—the idea alone was just enough to have his knees buckling. he jerks his hips up to meet the thrust of his hand, and you can’t help the low grunts slipping past your own lips as his length drags against the ridges of your cloying, gummy walls, making it practically impossible for you to sit still.

your heart is well ahead of you, the muscles beating inside your chest rapidly, and the euphoria of his pudgy tip hitting against your hymen has your irises rolling back, tears prickling the inner corners of your vision as your windpipes expel shallow breaths. his lashes bat against the apples of his cheeks, and his raven colored orbs flutter shut. his hand pumps more aggressively on his cock—and his orgasm approaches sooner than he anticipated.

you sense it, his dick twitching inside your spongy, spasming walls before shaky hips buck forward, triggering your stomach to churn in turmoils. choso’s engorged tip kisses your hymen and his warm, creamy seed gushes into the doll, stimulating your own orgasm. your back arches forward and you struggle to remain composed with the heat pooling in the innards of your gut as your teeth gnaw at your tender-vermilion lip, another soft moan slipping from you when you feel your mixed juices dribble down your slick folds.

#valetora 𑣿.#kinktober #dead dove #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen #choso my beloved #dead dove do not eat #is the dead dove tag still active rn ?? 😭#choso kamo smut #jjk smut #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu choso #anime smut

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tsintotwo · 2 years ago

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[If you, as a regular human woman, ever were to meet Morpheus in the real world, it could go something like this...

(Wrote earlier but not posted on tumblr before. Thought I would ‘cause why not.)]

‘…which obviously means he was always meant to acquire the stone, from the very moment he was born!’

‘Oh, you, you are all alike! You would do Olympic-level mental gymnastics to draw connections that just aren’t there! Just admit it- your darling author resorted to good old deux-ex-machina to resolve the biggest conflict in his biggest series.’

‘Oh, oh, PUH-LEASE…’

‘Excuse me’, I say, trying to move past the two arguing men. It’s hard, considering they’re both very, uh, physical talkers. Hands are wildly gesticulating, feet are stomping, spittle is flying. Worse- they’re starting to draw a small crowd. No doubt others will start pitching in soon. Then it will become a real shitshow. I sigh. This argument is as old as the popularity of the series, and yet it never stops getting chewed on. This is the downside of coming to these things.

The hotel, while not exactly seedy, is just the bare minimum necessary to hold meetups like this. The hall room is small, the carpet just a step above from threadbare, the chairs uncomfortable, the aircon barely works and when it does it is loud. None of that bothers me when the evening goes nicely though. But tonight’s meetup wasn’t great. The discussion was boring. The two short stories that were read didn’t hold my attention. No one was wearing any interesting costume. The only good thing was the artwork display, and that took only about ten minutes to look at.

I finally get past the arguing crowd and walk towards the flash bar that has been set up along the far wall. That’s going to have to be the other good thing tonight. I shake my head as I go, using the movement of my neck and my hands to bring my hair over my shoulder to one side. As nice as I know the thick waves looked flowing down my back, it’s just too hot in here now. The air on my neck feels wonderful. I walk, snippets of thoughts occurring to me, as they do- the argument hasn’t gotten loud yet, but give it time, that’s just what we need, getting banned from another hotel… this dress was DIY, but it still looks good, right? I think?... what will I order at the bar? Hmm… something has shifted.

My feet slow. ‘Something has shifted?’ What has shifted? Even as I think it, I realize I feel a change in the air. Something. I can’t put my finger on it. Is it the temperature? A new smell? I wonder, and that’s when I see him.

He is sitting on a stool at the bar, looking like every young-adult-romance-novel-emo-boy trope I’d ever read back in the day. Dressed in all black, shoulders hunched in a brood, a moody air around him. I didn’t think in real life people actually thought someone’s hair was ‘as dark as the night’ or their cheekbones were ‘as sharp as knives’, but these occur to me nonetheless as I reach the bar and get a look at his face. Yikes, I may have internalized more of those books that I thought.

I pull up a stool and sit- not exactly next to him, but near. There is no one else between us. But he doesn’t look at me.

‘Hey, Jake’, I smile at the bartender. It’s always his company that brings the portable bar to these meetups, and I’ve met him a few times before.

He smiles back, ‘Hey. What will it be?’

‘Hmm’, I frown, not having decided on anything yet. Then I shrug, and say, ‘Surprise me.’

He nods, ‘I will.’, He looks at the black-clad guy next to me. ‘You?’

He starts to shake his head, then pauses. Then he sits up a little straighter, and says, ‘Surprise me as well.’

Now I sit up a little straighter. Ho-ly-FUCK. That voice. Okay, I know I was thinking ridiculous things about his looks, phrases from cheesy novels getting stuck in my head and whatnot, and I can laugh it off. But his voice- there’s no joke here. It’s insanely… rich. Smokey. With a hint of a rough edge. But still smooth. Like folds of black velvet.

I have this weird thing. When I experience something beautiful- be it art, music, literature, good weather, a voice- I feel like I want to taste it. It’s a yearning, almost. Like my mouth, my tongue wants to feel whatever the other senses are feeling. Yeah, it’s weird. But I’m getting that now. The yearning to taste his voice, in my mouth. But you can’t taste a voice.

You can kiss him, though. That might be something close.

Whoa. WHOA, WHOAAAA! I shake myself slightly. Okay, I need to snap out of whatever this is.

Jake brings me my drink. It’s a light amber color. I take a careful sip. Delicious.

‘Wow.’, I ask Jake, ‘What is it?’

He puts his forefinger on his lips, ‘Knowing too much ruins the surprise, don’t you think?’

I laugh, ‘Yeah. Thanks, anyway. This is great.’

He nods and walks away, leaving me alone with Mr. Broody. I watch him take a small sip of his drink. His face shows nothing- no reaction. He sets down the glass.

Is he going to leave?

‘Not surprised?’, I ask, before I can stop myself. I just want to hear that voice again, I realize.

He looks at me, and this beat of my heart is a thud. Deep blue eyes- not of the sky, but of the bottomless ocean. Clear, sharp, intense- they leave me flustered enough that I feel stupid. Come on, I tell myself, he just looked at you. Stop having reactions to that!

To answer my question, he gives a small shake of his head. ‘No.’

‘Ouch’, I glance over to see if Jake was around to hear that.

He follows my eyes, then says, ‘It is not his fault. I know how he thinks. He could not have surprised me.’

‘You do?’, I frown, looking at him. ‘Do you know Jake?’

‘After a fashion.’ He eyes me. ‘You are dressed unusually for this time period.’ His eyes sweep over the room. Men and women in fantasy, horror, sci-fi costumes milling around, talking, lounging in chairs. In the middle of the argument crowd, someone seems to be giving a speech. ‘Everyone is dressed unusually.’ He looks at me again, ‘What is this place?’

‘I’… I was going to answer, but the full intensity of his stare makes me stumble over my word. This man really is striking, and it’s not just because he has a nice face or gorgeous eyes or good bone structure or whatever. He is deathly pale. His raven-black hair is just a little too wild to be considered artfully mussy. His face is lean and smooth, no lines showing history of a lived time. But still his heavy-lidded blue eyes are alive with a quiet power. Among all this, the soft, pouty lips are unexpected somehow. The whole effect is one of agelessness, as if he exists outside of time. I couldn’t tell if the guy was twenty or thirty or forty or even fifty.

I clear my throat, ‘This, uhm. This is, like, a nerd meetup. You didn’t know? Are you a guest at the hotel?’ I stop myself from saying, ‘You’re not supposed to be here if you are.’, because I… I don’t want him to go. Not yet.

‘A ‘nerd meetup’?’, he says the words slowly, as if unfamiliar with them. ‘What is that?’

I laugh. ‘Like-minded people meet monthly to talk about the nerdy stuff they love. Comic and sci-fi, classic lit and modern fantasies, mythologies and movies. There are discussions, readings, you can display your artwork, sell it even, if you’re good. Trade merch.’

‘Merch?’

‘Merchandise.’ I cock my head, ‘Doesn’t seem to be your crowd, eh? How did you end up here?’

‘Ancient tales are alive here tonight. I felt the pull.’

I stare at him. Doesn’t look like he’s joking. Does he really talk like this? ‘And?’, I ask.

‘And, I have been observing recently. Observing. Mingling.’, he looks like this word leaves a slightly unpleasant taste in his mouth, ‘Learning. I have… I have yet to learn some things. Or re-learn. Remind myself.’

Ooooookay.

So, at these meetups, you meet all sorts. Some of us here have a fuller life outside of our love for this stuff, but others are more immersed. They love fantasies, and they live their lives as if they are in fantasies- closet full of robes and head full of dreamscapes where they are the hero. There are others who come here to escape life. As soon as they’ve walked in here, they’re playing a role, being someone they could never be in the outside world. And still there are others who are just pretentious, desperate to prove themselves different.

Thing is, this man seems like none of the above. There is a particular way he speaks- very precise and deliberate, and it doesn’t sound fake. It sounds… powerful somehow. Powerful, and inevitable. Like he was meant to say these exact words at this exact moment, and it had been decided before even the universe was born.

I take a sip of my drink. I’m not sure if I should be talking to this man anymore. I mean, maybe I only think all these things about his eternal-type quality because he’s sexy (Yeah, he is. I have to admit that to myself). Maybe if this was a sweaty middle-aged guy with a balding head in a thigh-length toga, I would be walking away right now, deciding that he’s insane. But I can’t shake what I feel, that there’s something about this man. And I’m intrigued.

I’m about to introduce myself when he says, ‘Who are you?’ He has slightly angled his body towards me, and I am distracted for a moment by the pale, smooth sliver of his throat between the high coat collars. That yearning in my mouth, my tongue, again.

Blinking, I open my mouth to tell him my name, then realize he’s eyeing my flowy white dress slashed semi-daringly at the thighs, my tiara and waistband made in an intricate gold leaves-and-branches pattern, my golden boots.

‘I’m supposed to be Athene’, I say, ‘The Greek goddess of war strategy and wisdom? I guess you can’t really tell without the props.’ I gesture to the general direction of the chair I was sitting on earlier, where I’d set down the spear and the shield with an etched owl on it. ‘But they’re too clunky to carry around all evening.’

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a small smile as he takes in my look. ‘I believe she would be… amused by your rendition.’

Amused? It stings a little bit. ‘Why?’, I ask.

A very slight shrug of one slim shoulder, ‘Just humankinds’ ability to see one story, one character, in a thousand of ways, throughout centuries.’

Huh. That’s an interesting way of looking at it, actually.

‘Who are you?’, I ask.

‘I am Dream.’, he says simply.

I stare. ‘Is that your name?’

‘Yes.’

I mean, okay, I guess? Names are names, and I know a girl called Envy, a boy called Trigger, and my friend who is a kindergarten teacher just told me the other day there are not one, but two Daenerys’ in her class, so who am I to question anything?

‘Nice to meet you’ is what I’m about to say, but his attention has shifted. The crowd has finally broken into the loud argument I was fearing. The voices are rising and so is the frustration- it doesn’t seem like anyone can even tell what the others are saying anymore. A couple of people are trying to break it off, but most who are not taking part are just standing around and watching.

‘Why do human beings get so attached?’, Dream asks. It sounds like a rhetorical question that was not asked to me, but I answer anyway- ‘That’s what makes us human, don’t you think?’

He turns to me. ‘I understand that. Human society could not function without attachment to each other. But this-‘ he gestures, ‘attachment to stories? Stories are mirrors for humans to see themselves. To get this attached is so… narcissistic. Do you not see that?’

His blue gaze bores into mine, and my throat dries. This is the first time he has said so many sentences in one go. He is quiet now, but the deep voice still feels coiled in the air around us, making it thrum with an unknown energy. I can tell when a man is interested in me like most women can, and I can also tell Dream is not, not that way, not right now. He is not trying anything, he’s just talking. But this man… this man can’t ‘just talk’, I realize. He is not capable of that. Every time he looks at me it feels like he’s seeing me more intimately that any other person ever has, every word he speaks to me feels seductive.

I swallow, then try to answer his question, to match his eloquence. ‘Yes, I suppose you could say that. But stories are not just mirrors. They’re umbrellas, too. Or blankets.’ Jake reappears, and I am thankful. ‘Can I have some water?’ I ask him. He brings me a glass, and I take a long drink.

Dream is looking at me. ‘Explain’, he says. It sounds like a command in a strange way. I can imagine feeling patronized if this was any other person here. But with him, it fits seamlessly. Feels inevitable. And I oblige.

‘We relate to stories, yes. We want to see ourselves in them. But don’t you see, we also want to see everyone else? Stories and ideas are bigger than one person, one human individual. They bring us together. And I’m not even talking about religions, and institutions, and such- that these systems work just because everyone has subscribed to believing in them, these ideas about God existing and money being valuable and whatnot. I’m talking about feelings.’

‘Feelings?’ Dream asks, and this time I almost don’t get distracted by him, having found my footing in the conversation. The argument in the room can be no longer called that, it’s pretty much a group of people fighting now. At least it seems like things haven’t gotten physical yet, but it is loud. I don’t want to keep shouting over it, so I hop off my stool, pull it closer to Dream, and hop on again. Maybe I didn’t need to be this close. Maybe I don’t care.

‘You know, I went to see a very popular film last year, very hyped. I wasn’t into it, had never been into that fandom, but I did go with my friends. It was the finale of the franchise, lots of excitement, and I was just like, ‘Eh, I don’t get it, these films are not that good.’ But then I sat in the cinema and saw the film, but I also felt the other people in there, you know? The gasps, the laughs, the groans and yells in tandem. The excited breathing of the girl beside me, the scream of the man in front of me. I went into this as a grumbly cynic, but by the time the final battle on the screen rolled around, with music swelling in the dark hall, everyone rooting for the Good Guys, I was one of them, every one person who came to see this story unfold. I felt one with them. It really was no longer about just the film. It was a human experience, sharing something bigger, feeling something bigger, being part of something larger, together. The story was a fake fantasy, but the feelings were real.’

I stop, gulping in some more water. Huh, that got way more elaborate than I thought it would. But I still want to finish making my point. ‘We exited the cinema hall, and these strangers who watched the film with me, they felt like less than strangers. The tears I saw as I walked away, the laughter, the excited babbling, and the heated complaints. All of that I related to. I felt a kinship to my fellow humans. And I went home a little happier, with a heart a little fuller. That’s what stories are about. That’s what gets us attached.’

Dream is quiet, looking at me. I really did pull too close. Our knees are almost touching. But the subtle change I feel in the air between us is not because of that. I feel like he’s looking at me now, for the first time. Not just a person who sat down beside him and started talking tonight. Me.

It can’t have been for more than a few seconds we made direct, unwavering eye contact, but it feels longer. And it does something to me. Traces of an electric hum in my nerves, a heaviness in my breathing, a pull like gravity in my heart. I feel part of another world suddenly, like I’m not even here, in this hotel, in this room, in my ridiculous white dress and golden boots, with men and women shouting just twelve feet away. I feel like I’m with Dream, and that’s where the matter begins, and that’s where the matter ends.

What is happening to me?

Dream says, ‘I have always known about stories. They form part of my realm. But this is…’, he nods slightly, as if acknowledging some contribution I made, ‘something to think about.’

‘Realm?’, my voice sounds to weak to me, ‘Is that, like, your formal synonym for 'expertise' or something?’

He doesn’t answer. It looks like he has settled down to think immediately, looking at the fake-wood bar counter, small lines on his forehead, dark brows furrowed. There's something lonely about the way of it all, something just a tiny bit sad and lost. I feel an unexpected surge of affection for him.

Someone from the hotel has finally arrived, thank God. The man looks small and harried, but he apparently knows how to exert his authority because I see the fight beginning to break up. The bar is about to get crowded, no doubt.

I look at Dream. He hasn’t dressed polished, talked smooth, or done anything remotely edgy, but he feels incredibly sexy, and dangerous. Normally, I am not attracted to that- the dangerous part anyway. And I’m way more wary with strangers. But he doesn’t fall into a type, he’s not anything anyone could’ve planned for. I just know these things, just as I know what the warmth in my heart, the knot gathering low in my abdomen mean. My palm tingles as I imagine running it over his smooth cheek, sharp jaw, pressing onto his swollen bottom lip with my thumb. I imagine tracing my fingers on his throat, touching my lips on the soft flesh there. I feel my breath catch.

Oh, God. That got real intense real fast.

I don’t have anyone permanent in my life right now, but I date. I know my way around the scene. I know how to talk to a guy, how to build that chemistry if the seed is there. And if this was just any guy, I might have made a move. Lean in more, touch his arm, chew on my full lips as I listened to him. But I don’t even consider any of it. Even his aloof air aside, this is not just any guy, and I know I can do none of those superficial things with him and expect him to respond. A yearning blooms inside my chest, almost instantly morphing into something painful.

I want him, and badly.

More people are sitting down at the bar. I hear chattering all around. I know quite a lot of people who are here right now, and soon anyone might walk up and start a chat. I don’t want that. I want to be with Dream.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’, I ask him.

This is a stranger, I tell myself. You know nothing about him. What are you doing?

Dream turns his head towards me, ‘Yes.’ He stands up. ‘You have made your argument, but I have found the flaw in it. Nonetheless, it has been an interesting conversation, and made me contemplate. Thank you.’

He begins to walk away.

My jaw drops.

What?

‘Wait!’, I call, my voice just a little strangled. ‘What flaw? And,’ my eyes fall on his unfinished drink, ‘what, you aren’t even going to pay for that?’

He stops and looks at the drink, frowning. ‘Money?’

‘Yes, money!’, I say, incredulous. ‘And you were really just going to walk away and not tell me what you mean by quote unquote ‘the flaw in my argument’?’ I hop off my stool, pull out some cash from the small golden purse attached to my belt, and set it on the counter. ‘Okay, the drink is on me. The explanation on you.’ I meet his eyes, one hand on my waist, challenging him to leave, willing him not to.

He doesn’t take any more steps, so I go collect my props, and stand in front of him. ‘Okay, where are we going?’

‘We’, he says, ‘are not going anywhere…’, he trails off. He’s checking me out, I realize with a small jolt. We were both sitting down or moving until now, this is the first time we’re standing to our full heights before each other. And just as I take in his slender frame, lithe limbs and how strangely imposing he is despite not being very big or very tall, I feel him glancing over my face, my exposed collarbones, narrow waist (well, narrow-ish), and long (sigh, -ish) legs. It doesn’t make me feel icky, the way he does it. Just appreciated. And I can tell he’s not fixating on my body parts. He’s taking in the whole effect.

I can also tell that it pleases him somehow.

‘Why did you choose Athene?’, he asks me.

‘She seemed badass.’

He frowns. ‘What does that mean?’

It really sounds like he doesn’t know what ‘badass’ means, but I try not to take it literally. ‘You know, smart, hands-on or hands-off at exactly the right times, fearless. Never bothering with drama, or men.’

That hint of a smile again, slightly mocking now. ‘You do not bother with men?’

Oh, shit. We’re doing this now? Right here? We’re in the middle of the hotel hall room. There are people all around. Strangely, though, no one seems to notice him, or by extension, me.

So be it. I close the gap between us until my breasts are almost touching his chest.

‘Sometimes they’re worth it.’, I say.

Dream doesn’t move, and I feel my heartrate spike. Not taking my eyes off his, I let go of the Athene shield in my right hand, letting it fall on the carpet. Then I reach out and lightly brush his hand with my fingers.

So far this evening, nothing I've said or done has had any visible effect on him. But this immediately does. His eyelids flicker, and I can hear his faint intake of a sharper breath. I move my thumb to his wrist, brushing gently. This- just touching, but it's electric for both of us. I feel the charge with my whole body, and I can see that he feels it too. For the first time, there's tension in him- the kind I’ve been feeling. His eyes darken, lips parting slightly. For an insane millisecond, I think I would give my life to taste those lips.

Dream's eyes close for a moment, giving me a breathtaking view of thick, dark eyelashes over pale skin. Then he opens them, and takes a couple of steps back. He looks mad, and slightly confused.

‘This has continued for more than is advisable. I must leave.’

He turns around and walks away. Impossibly, I hear him murmur something like 'a human woman...' as he goes. My jaw hangs open. What? What has continued? Whose advise? I’ve met moody people, even bipolar people, but this is on a whole different level. What’s worse, I instinctively know that he’s not playing games or being difficult on purpose. He’s actually torn.

Which is why I do what I wouldn’t do for a random man playing hard to get- I decide to chase after him. This feels bigger than me, bigger than just an everyday chance encounter. And I want to see it through.

But by the time I pick up my shield and look up, he has disappeared. I run out of the hall, look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. This is not my first time in this hotel, and I know there is a side door from the hall leading to a back alley. He seemed headed that way, so that’s where I go too.

The cool night air is a shock on my exposed neck and arms, but I don’t pay attention. Looking both ways in the alley, taking a few steps in both directions, I can’t see Dream. It feels like a physical blow, this absence. ‘Dream!’ I call, half desperate, ‘Are you here?’

‘Why did you come after me?’, he says right behind my ear, and I jump, whirling around.

‘Where the hell did you come from?’

‘Not Hell', he says, deadpan. ‘What do you want?’

Seriously, where did he pop up from like that? I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, to practice some semblance of control in this bewildering situation.

‘I want to know’, I say, ‘what the flaw in my argument is.’

‘Do you.’ It’s a comment, not a question.

‘Yes’, I square my shoulders, surprised at the undercurrent of antagonism in his words.

‘Listen, then.’ He is close to me, his eyes look hooded and dark in the dim orange glow of the single hotel bulb outside the door, only two pupils glinting. ‘Humans would hide behind stories, and let everything fall to ruin. You talk of sharing a bigger thing, sharing experiences, but you do not, do you? Share? Your people go hungry, thirsty, get killed, go through planet-level crisis, but do you come together? Show compassion? Lift each other? No. Everything burns, and you bury your face in the sand, obsessing over made-up worlds, seeking connections through there. You cannot connect with each other where it matters, where it is honest, necessary. You want to see other people in stories, but they only matter when it makes you feel good, and no more past that. That is the flaw. Stories are blankets, but not to gather you together, but for you to hide under there.’

A minute ago, I could not imagine this getting so brutal. But it just did, and I am speechless. What do you say to that?

He moves slightly. I know he is about to do it again- walk away- and I feel a sudden spike of anger. ‘That’s not fair.’ I say, setting my props down near my feet.

‘What isn’t?’, he sounds bored.

‘Everything you just said. You… you would have humans, like, all of humanity, being picture perfect, would you? I perfectly harmonious collective organism, or whatever? Well, guess what? It’s not possible. That’s not how we evolved. We multiplied fast, spreading all over the earth, and for so long we didn’t know what we were doing, maybe we still don’t know. There is good, and there is bad. There will always be mistakes, violence, evil. But you can’t judge us only on that scale. Did you look around today? All these people came to talk about stories they love. In doing so, they made each other happy. Made this evening mean something. They’re not talking about their dead father, abusive partner, son in a war, lost dog in there, but when they deal with those things, this extra bit of meaning, of happiness, will help. They’re not solving for world peace, but every single soul in there might have a lighter heart after sharing whatever they came to share today.’

I stop, realizing I raised my voice quite a bit. Dream is looking at me intently.

‘You were passionate.’, he notes, not saying I was right. But I can also hear a hint of respect in his voice.

‘No shit.’, I give out a half-laugh, absorbing the unreality of this situation. Me in a dark downtown alley, standing with a stranger who’s got me heated in every sense of the word, defending humankind, of all things. ‘You never felt this?’

‘What?’, he asks.

‘The connection? Forget stories, you never sat down with a friend and had an honest conversation that makes you feel like even though nothing is solved, everything might just turn out okay?’

He hesitates. ‘I suppose I have. Had conversations with a friend.’

‘What did you think then?’

‘I thought... I thought if you appreciate it, life will be endlessly giving to a human.’

‘Exactly! And it’s in the small things that it gives. You don’t always have to beeline to the large-scale-disaster-species aspect of us.’

He sighs softly. ‘Maybe’. Then something occurs to him, and he says, ‘But honest conversations, even in small scales, are rarer, as I understand.’

He’s not wrong about that. Everywhere I see people getting more cynical, and isolated, and divided. I can’t argue with that, and I don’t. Instead, I say, ‘I haven’t spoken to my mother in a decade.’

I register the surprise on his face. He didn’t expect me to spit out personal information just to prove a point. But that’s not what I am doing, not really.

‘She is an alcoholic. She was passed out on the couch when my father had his heart attack upstairs, calling for her, for help. He died. She drank more. I didn’t even exist. I guess I still don’t. She’s never reached out. Not that I want her to.’

I swallow. ‘I don’t have money. Had to put myself through hell to finish my degree- three part-time jobs and schoolwork... I’m almost done. You’d think maybe Literature, from all my talk about stories, but Business, actually. I am good at it. But I don’t particularly like it. I don’t know what I will do, what I really want. I have to decide on something soon, because I’m still barely making ends meet, loans aside. For this dress, I pretty much cut-and-pasted a thrift store bedsheet together, can you believe that? And I still feel guilty about the money I splurged on renting the props. A splurge for me anyway. But it makes me happy, dressing up.’ I laugh under my breath. ‘I have friends, but I don’t know if we’re going to be friends five years from now. Everyone and everything in my life has been so… temporary.’

I take a step towards Dream, take one of his hands between two of mine. He goes slightly rigid, looking at me touching him, palms on palms, fingers entangled. I see something in him then, a startling and rare flash of vulnerability, from this man who looks so incapable of it. It gives me the courage to go on.

‘Listen.’, I say evenly. ‘I don’t know who you are, where you came from. And you don’t need to know any of those things about me. But you talked about honest conversations, and you are right, we don’t have them too much. We don’t say what we feel. But then sometimes you meet someone, someone rare, and suddenly you want to. You want to open up. So, I am.’ I take a deep breath. ‘When I first saw you tonight, I felt intrigued. You are mesmerizing, the whole of you. Maybe you have this effect on everyone, I don’t know. But I have never felt this way before. And now, a couple hours later, I feel more.’ I edge closer to him. ‘You make me want to know you. Make me see images in my head, like a… a dream, but sharp and vivid. Thunder, lightning, wind, rain, storm outside, warmth and flickering flames inside. Shadows dancing on the wall, the smell of the hardwood floor. Uh..us on the fireside. Silk sheets. Tangled limbs.’

I hear my own voice, and I can’t believe it, the things I am saying. All of it is absolutely insane. All of it is absolutely true.

Dream is still like a statue before me, and in his eyes, in his face, I see- Longing? Confusion? Regret? It’s all in a flicker, there and gone. He takes an audible breath, shuddering slightly- the most visceral he has been the whole evening. It's like he’s pushing something deep down. He pulls his hand away, and takes a step back.

‘This’, his voice, wrapped in its rich timbre, is low and just a bit hoarse, and it sends shivers down my spine, ‘is admirable of you. You have been very honest. And you have surprised me.’ It sounds like he’s not just believed me, he actually knows that I have been honest. ‘For this, I will…’

I can’t take it anymore. I know what I want, and I’m not someone who waits for things to happen to them. So, I walk up to Dream, pull him by the collars of his coat, and kiss him.

I immediately feel his shock. His whole body stiffens, his hands jerking up in surprise. I take his lips between mine, a groan getting stuck in the back of my throat- impossibly, they’re even softer than they look. I suck on them, trace my tongue over them, one of my hands around his shoulder, the other finding its way into his hair. His lips part just slightly, and I kiss each of those in turn- brushing, tasting, biting. I feel one of his hands round my waist now- loose, yet not letting go. I snake my arm tighter around his neck, and move my wet mouth along his jaw. His head falls back slightly. I trace kisses along his throat. When I bite there, I feel his body shiver in my arms. One small reaction, but it drives me crazier than it has any right to do. My lips are brushing up on his cheek, all the way up to his ear, and clutching the hair on the back of his head in my fist, trying to catch my breath, I half-gasp his name- 'Dream...' Like a call, like a secret, like a prayer.

And he loses control.

I feel his hand snaking stronger around my waist, the other one drowning in my hair as he pulls my mouth back to his, kissing me with a sudden desperate hunger that makes fireworks explode on all my nerve endings. I gasp, slipping my hands under his coat. His chest is smooth, hard and sinewy, and one of my palms find its way under the t-shirt, touching, exploring, going to his back. His mouth devours mine, then goes all over my cheeks, chin, jaw, as if trying to taste every inch of skin. I feel like I'm melting, disintegrating, yet I am acutely aware of the sensation of every single one of his touches, kisses on my body. One of his hands cups my breast over the dress, presses a thumb on the nipple. I moan, frustrated, layers of clothes getting in the way. My stomach is turning to jelly, a fire gathering underneath that. Against my skin there, I feel him, hardening. I press onto the bulge, moving one of my thighs to brush against it.

A low growl escapes from deep within him as he shoves me against the wall. His lips are on my throat, my shoulder, leaving a trail of fire on my skin. He pulls down the side of my dress, my bra, and then my nipple in his hot mouth. An entire galaxy of stars explode behind my eyes. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, nipping, sucking, grazing, brushing, pressing. My back arches. Oh, fuck. Oh, FUCK. I can’t take it for too long, and I pull his face up to mine again, kissing him.

This is not like any touch, any kiss, any passionate exchange I've ever had. Every sensation seems to be searing into my body and mind. Images bloom in my head, images I could never dream up before, tangled and confusing, lusty and sinful. Too many feelings burst inside my chest. Pure pain and endless pleasure. Desperate heat and exquisite deliberation. I almost can't hold it in.

We stop, come up for air. Our eyes meet. And he goes still.

We’re looking at each other, his fiery blue eyes into my hazel, and I feel him struggling right now, I clearly feel it. He roughly pushes me away, takes steps back, closes his eyes. Breathes. Once, twice. Three and four times. He opens his eyes again. His body is shaking imperceptibly with held-in tension, and I can only imagine the effort this sudden bottling is taking him. But his face is now calm.

‘We cannot do this.’, he says. Just like that.

I still feel there isn’t enough air in my lungs. I stand, unsteady, adjusting my dress, my whole body on fire. ‘We did’, I say, voice trembling.

His jaw muscles tighten, ‘We should not have. I should not have.’ He sighs, but is also calmer every second. ‘I cannot.’

At this moment, it’s impossible to think I’ll ever feel calm again. I look at him, every instinct in my body telling me to run to him, wrap myself around him, take his mouth into mine again. But when your partner, in crystal clear terms, is telling you ‘no’, there is only one right thing to do.

Stop.

I don’t ask why. No one can fake what we just did, and I know he wanted it as much as I did. If he's still stopping, he must have his reasons, and he’d tell me already if he could. It’s not usual, but nothing about this was. I take deep breaths, relaxing my shoulders, straightening my clothes, untangling my hair. ‘Well’, I say, ‘That was nice anyway. Thank you.’

Dream laughs, actually laughs, and I laugh too, because, after all that, after my thigh on his dick and my nipple in his mouth, am I really saying ‘thank you’ right now? God, that’s dumb!

But dumb is good. Uncomplicated.

‘Athene would also be flattered that you are portraying her’, Dream says quietly, with a slight emphasis on ‘you’.

I smile. ‘Okay, this ‘thank you’ is real.’

‘And your mother, every day and night, she dreams of forgiveness. You can give her that, if you want.’

I almost get whiplash from the turn of the conversation. ‘Wh…what? How would you know?’

‘I know’, he puts his hands in his coat pocket, jutting his chin just a bit upwards like I'm realizing he often does. ‘I must go. And you, you will soon know what you want,-', he calls me by my name, 'Good fortune be with you.'

I know he’s talking about my life, career, and those other stuff that sounds so insignificant at this moment, and I still say, simply, ‘I want you.’

Dream goes still for a fraction of a moment, but says nothing except, ‘Goodbye.’ He begins to turn away, then stops. A wicked gleam comes into his eyes. That’s new, I think.

‘Everybody dreams.’, he whispers.

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘And?’

He smiles suddenly, only this time it looks like he knows something that I don’t.

‘Well, then. I shall find a way to make one for you.’

‘’Make one for me’? What does that mean?’

‘Goodbye’, Dream walks away, and this time I know this is final. I take a step towards him almost involuntarily, but even without turning his head he knows somehow, and holds up a hand. I stop, and watch him disappear into the night. I stand there, realizing somewhere in the back of my mind that he called me by my name which I never told him. But that doesn't matter now, nothing does. All I feel is him all over me. The thunder, the storm, the miserable ruin left behind.

After a while I sigh, and turn back. I'll have to figure out a way to be okay. Don't I always? But I won't forget him.

I couldn't forget him if I wanted to.

#dream of the endless #morpheus #dream x oc #morpheus x oc #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #sandman fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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vintageseawitch · 2 years ago

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if there are any twilight book sequels written then published, i promise to look up spoilers because if i find out the Volturi decide to create hybrids of their own (🤢🤮) then i will refuse to read let alone own them. as curious as Aro may be about it, it's horrendous that he would try it out himself. the creation of hybrids is legitimately terrifying body horror to me & even Aro's "indifference" towards humans doesn't automatically make him a psychopath about this sort of thing.

Aro, despite his penchant for ruthlessness, is a softie, too. i like to imagine the thought of putting a uterus-owner through such a specific & horrific form of torture fills him with revulsion & guilt. yes, humans are red-eyed vampires' food, but even humans get disturbed at the thought of animals they consume going through needless pain especially for selfish reasons.

at this point the canon of this silly franchise means approximately shit to me so if smeyers decides to make her refined, considerably more interesting clan of vampires into true monsters, she can fuck right off because they deserve better than that. they're not villains simply because they're doing what is natural to them & the Cullens are a creepier cult than the Volturi will ever be. at least everyone knows that the three kings are dangerous. the Cullens are too busy being gentrified hypocrites (completely beige & lacking a good, old-fashioned dungeon & set of coffins... the dark drama is what draws us to vampires in the first place & someone like Forever Emo Teenager McWalking Red Flag scoffs at such things like a good little boring creeper on top of them actually not giving a damn about humans considering how in midnight sun it's clear they wouldn't have batted an eye at killing bella because said little boring creeper - or the prodigal son 🙄 - can barely control himself around her like it's her problem to deal with. glob i hate that & his losing control around her would make their "lives" a Little Bit Uncomfortable lmao) with Whatever The Fuck Weird Dynamic they have going on.

if anyone would be cruel anyways, it would be Caius out of the three kings, but i refuse to believe even he would go that far. a part of it is the thought of needing to be close to a human like that would disgust him but another is at least when they feed it's quick. if anyone is to endure a terribly long torture it would be Nahuel's biological father because he's a real monster. like, yes, somehow the Volturi never found out about hybrids, but they never went & tried to find out what would happen themselves.

i like to think the more the three kings researched it the more horrified they would be, but that could just be my biases & preferences showing. bella & edward's daughter displays disturbingly similar compulsory "abilities" or however one would describe them like Immortal Children because everyone's sudden pull to her after she touched them is WAY too similar to the enchantment vampires experience around the latter type of child so i think the Volturi (especially Jane) would be weirded out by that connection considering how long they've studied them.

i'm not saying every hybrid is like bella & edward's kid, but i'm pretty sure Aro noticed that neither she nor the rest of the family really like or trust the Volturi that much PLUS the Romanians are some of her favorite vamps. pretty sure that has put the Volturi on their guard (so to speak) (also Carlisle what the FUCK why are you being so weird about the Volturi. why tf does edward have his stupid attitude about them whyyyy make them your enemy especially considering the drama in new moon & eddie blatantly disrespecting the ancient group by expecting them to be Suicide Assistance as though that's what they're there for & have nothing better to do & Aro doing you a MASSIVE favor). ya know, as pretty as he's portrayed in the movies, i'm liking him as a character less & less (he's the biggest hypocrite of them all & playing a dangerous game of delusions - like hun, sorry, but no matter how much you pretend, you are not a human any longer & maybe you don't realize it (or WANT to) but you totally think you're better than humans seeing as you bend their rules especially if it's for your extremely problematic red-headed "son" - but THEN AGAIN you're certainly good at wiping out local wildlife like big predators so maybe you're more like humans than you think & i mean that as a slur).

i totally get derailed in my little rants on here & i'm only a little bit embarrased since this is pretty much how my brain works & how i talk lmao so tl;dr if the Volturi become the worst kind of monsters in future books when it comes to hybrids (aka "making their own" 🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮), smeyers can fuck right off some more & the Cullens & their creepy cult & creepier hybrid kid are the worst. i still like Emmett though even if he chooses to stick around the problematic bunch (pretty sure Carlisle has a gift as well; it's amazing that so many vampires are not only able to live with each other peacefully but rigidly stick to a diet that is unnatural to their kind - a kind of creature that follows their instincts above almost most things. oh Carlisle, you certainly transferred your wild need to repress almost too exceedingly well).

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aereth · 3 years ago

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I’m not going to lie, I won’t enjoy looking at Fanexpo from other’s POV.

I swear if it’s just shoving a ship down people’s gullet, and not about the Stranger things experience, I’m going to lose my shit.

I didn’t complain before, but with how hard this Part of the fandom is going, I don’t know if can keep quiet.

I didn’t like Edissy because I was always the weird girl getting bullied. I remember loving anime, and being emo in middle school. I remember going through some things; mentally, emotionally, and physically. I remember the propound girls snickering and pointing, I remember them calling one of my friends with ADHD childish. I remember only being used because I was smart. And some of these girl were on the dance team, the cheer team, some were just popular because elf their looks.

But people only relate is it’s a white, pretty, character. I can’t even imagine inserting myself or an OC of mine with Eddie without making them white.

And I’m a Hispanic. I don’t have pale or light skin. I don’t have a fair complexion. I have hyperpigmentation, a few dark spots, and I’m a medium golden / warm skin tone.

And no matter how hard I try, I always put one of my lighter complexion character. White fair skin, pretty heterochromia eyes, blank wavy hair. Like I don’t know.

So I don’t know if I can watch any expo experience without feeling jealous of a ship. Or feeling uncomfortable.

Same. And I feel like Chrissy wasn’t even important enough of a character for Grace to even be at an event this big so of course it’s because the people organizing this event think the ship is more popular than it actually is because the shippers are so loud and they’re seeing $$$$$.

I was indifferent to Eddissy at first but then the shippers came for me for simply stating I didn’t care for it so now I’m fully against it. I didn’t care for Chrissy as a character and can’t watch her scenes because I was also bullied by a girl like her in high school (I have a detailed post a couple of weeks back) and that turns me off the ship too. There are many valid criticisms of it that the shippers refuse to see.

I also dislike the ship because pairing Eddie with someone like Chrissy would make him a hypocrite. She stand for everything he hates. People who ship them really misunderstand his character. He’s a genuinely kind guy, as we saw in the forest scene, but him being nice to her isn’t something to build a ship off of. We saw several times that he was nice to people who were nice to him and he was very gentlemanly toward Robin and Nancy as well. That’s just who he is. He did not treat Chrissy in any particular special way. Eddie was also created for the freaks and the outcasts so shipping him with a character like Chrissy is a slap in the face to people who relate to him. People like her are the ones who have treated us horribly. Eddie deserves better.

And I’m white but I have enough of a brain to know that if Chrissy had not been a conventionally attractive white blonde girl then the ship wouldn’t be getting this much attention. It likely wouldn’t exist at all. So yes I understand why it will be hard for a lot of people to enjoy content from the expo. My thoughts are super jumbled today but I understand where you’re coming from. Feel free to message me if you just want to talk about it or need to vent.

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bioodorange · 4 years ago

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||Crack!Creepypasta Headcanons||

take an old ass drafty post because I have no will too write <3

gimme your thoughts for this its...weird crap i’ve thought about

ya know dipper from gavity falls? and his forehead birthmark thing?

toby has that but it’s the lyra constellation

ben’s gotta sleep with pads on his face so he doesn’t fuck up his sheets

the proxies have a dysfunctional family dynamic

brian and tim switch between overworked dad and sad wine mom

toby’s their poor arsonist child

kate is tobys actual father but has been out of the picture for years

cody’s the neighbour who looks oddly similair too one of toby’s parents

ben’s addicted too bitcoin he thinks its the future of the world

doesn’t care if he’s fuckin dead

he’s considered communism

jeff’s religous trauma + aggressive political upbringing made him beileve anarachy is the only interest

who let angsty anarchy teen and communist twink be friends-

so like liu has a lot of plants and crap

one time sully killed one and replaced it with a fake one

liu cried when he found out he’d been watering plastic

once lj ate sally’s hamster too try and be funny

like held it in his throat and brought it back up when she began crying

slender whooped his hass

all the furniture in the mansion gotta be fuckin huge right

but for the really tall fucks like slender its kinda small right

so just slender sitting on the couch, knees curled up too his chest

“Well, this is rather uncomfortable?”

and then fuckin tobys 5′7 ass who had too physically jump onto the couch

“bitch what”

jeff thinks clockwork is genuinely into him

whenever she gut punches him or gags when he walks into the room hes like

“dam baby if you wanted a piece of this ass all you had too do was ask”

and then he gets pummeled by someone

I refuse too beileve trender wears sweaters and fucking khackis

he’s all about OOo fashion

bitch looks like a homophobic day care worker

Helen’s basically a vampire

thin, doesn’t go outside, dark emo boy hair

and like he’s a painter so he’s defintely taken a swig of paint water before right

but he paints with blood

lj doesn’t know how too use a cellphone

fucking fight me on this

doesn’t have a need for them, he wasn’t really ever exposed too technology

thats why ben slightly scares him

hoe doesn’t understand

jane has her own little garden

that one’s not crackish but cmon its cute

her having like a little bookclub with ej and nina

they’re all friends, fight me

brian has lotsa failed stick and poke tattoos

wanted too be cool too have a small one

fucks it up everytime somehow

always wears longsleeves because of it

everytime its like summer tim tries too get him into a t-shirt

“You’re gonna get fucking heat stroke, we barely have an ac-”

hissing noises

so yeah he just walks around in a sweaty long sleeved shirt

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dastardlydandelion · 4 years ago

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my thoughts on fear street 1666 now that i finished scrubbing all the toilets, got to go home and watch it

holy shit. that movie. wow.

it wasn’t as fun as the other two. didn’t employ the same campy tropes. didn’t present itself in a flourish of period typical style. while i enjoyed the first two films paying homage to classic horror tropes and making the most of the stylish side of their respective environments, i am v grateful and relieved that 1666 *wasn’t* as fun as the other two and actually presented the horror of puritan fanaticism and witch accusations more srsly. imo it portrayed that grave, twisting dread that the subject matter calls for. i appreciate that bc i think i would’ve been uncomfortable if they attempted to do smth more campy with the time period given what we already knew abt the circumstances of sarah’s death even before the film.

more of me blathering on and on abt fear street 1666 under the cut:

the twist actually worked on me this time. they actually got me on this one, u guys. i rly watched this franchise believing sarah fier was possessing ppl and wreaking her vengeance on the town, but this whole time it was the fuckin’ goodes. nick, i never liked u, i think ur more interesting than i did before before when u were a generic as generic gets asshole, so now ur somewhat more interesting but even bigger of an asshole than i gave u credit for. ur literally the worst asshole of assholes, ur a walking infected hemorrhoidal rectum of a human being.

don’t get me wrong, i always thought sarah was going to be portrayed sympathetically. i never doubted that. my theory was that sarah was going to be a sympathetic villain. i thought 1666 would’ve revealed why she cursed shadyside. i figured she would’ve cursed her townsfolk for turning their backs on her, maybe, or hurting/killing hannah, or using her for her witchcraft and then getting angry if it backfired on them, or smth like that. i thought we were going to watch a story abt sarah’s descent into darkness and while she’d defo be a tragic villain, she rly would be the person behind the possessions...but it wasn’t even her. she and hannah were just vulnerable to the town’s suspicion and persecution bc they were queer women who didn’t behave the way society wanted them to behave. and they were blamed for evil actually wrought by heterosexual men in power, and when sarah realized there was no way out of it, she took the blame upon herself so hannah was spared and she cursed only the goode family??

THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER. FUCK. THAT IS SUCH A BETTER STORY. kudos to this trilogy for being more intelligent than it ever had to be, when it could’ve just skated on the notoriety of the fear street series, the style, and billing notable cast members.

so yeh, i defo 100% appreciated the goode men from wealthy sunnyvale being revealed as the true villains. i actually got my wish of nick getting killed in the face. i love that sarah possessed deena to do it herself!!! and deena!! oh man, i love deena so much. she was wearing a homebrew vest to protect herself made of fear street novels + duct tape, u gotta love it. ig she wanted to prepare herself since sam stabbed her at the end of 1994. on that note, she’s v active in this film for someone who has a fresh abdominal stab wound and i mean, the situation defo calls for it, but i hope she remembered to properly dress it and take a couple ibuprofen or smth. shit, i’m gettin distracted again. okay!!

i loved errything that went down in the mall. i adore that josh and adult ziggy got more time to shine. i was so! so! happy at martin’s inclusion on the action. he deserved that after the way nick treated him in 1994. our occupations are also p similar so i defo relate to martin on that front. i loved it all the neon and blacklight stuff at the mall. that part was v stylish, that was p cool. spraying the killers with the blood so they kill each other!! yes! that was perfect!! it was incredibly practical and enjoyable for me, as a gore fan, to watch.

i liked the sticky note on the wall at the end from deena and josh’s dad, that he had a job interview. i wonder if this is bc the curse of shadyside has been lifted with the end of the goodes??

yk, i feel like now knowing what we know abt the actual evil, i gotta wonder how much re-watch value there is to be gleaned from this trilogy. for example, in 1978, nick liked ziggy and didn’t want her to die. he performed cpr on her even tho she’d been stabbed a fuck ton of times and tbvh, the chances of success of resuscitation depending on what exactly it is was ziggy succumbed to seem v slim. at first i attributed this to a suspension of disbelief bc this is fiction (and to be fair crazy do happen sometimes irl, ykw, sometimes reality can surprise u) BUT now i’m sittin here like...was the cpr successful bc nick’s deal with the devil gave him the power to do that?? did his bargaining of others’ souls and offering them up for possession grant him the ability to have some control in that situation somehow? at least more than a normal human being should?? idk. it’s a thought.

what else, what else?

i feel like outta the three, 1666 had the most tension overall. i was p gosh darn emo abt the relationships. deena and sam’s relationship i’ve cared abt since the beginning but the contrast of them getting the opportunity to have it and be together, in parallel to the way sarah and hannah’s ended just moves u. or, it moved me at least. sarah tells hannah they’ll go somewhere and kiss in broad daylight before kissing her in almost total darkness, and then the film ends on deena and sam kissing in the sun. i was also glad deena and josh’s sibling relationship got touched on a lil bit more. thought it was cute that she tried to cook for him and produced smth that just dead ass looks inedible. i also thought it was sweet that ziggy reunited with nurse lane. she can do that now, she can leave her house without fearing the return of the curse, and she deserves it. <3

i’m impressed with the trilogy overall. each movie easily could’ve been an r-rated goosebumps episode and imo all were certainly better than that. i feel like each film was better than the previous, but personally enjoyed each one. some things were p predictable but i think much of that is intentional. 1994 and 1978 were clearly paying homage to classic slashers and familiar horror tropes. i personally didn’t find the predictability off-putting bc i recognized what they were trying to do, and felt the quality in the other elements made up for it. i was genuinely shocked by the actual villain reveal, i personally didn’t predict that. again, i always thought sarah was going to be sympathetic and i never liked nick at all, but i didn’t suspect sarah was just. dead ass *not* going to be a villain or that he was going to be the big bad.

really dug the style of these films. loved that we got an interracial lesbian couple who made it thru the trilogy without either the predatory lesbian trope or the byg trope happening. i liked most of the characters we got to know and the only character who *rly* grated on my nerves was the villain who got stabbed in the eye.

gosh, i want more fear street movies!! if i had to pick one outta any of the slashers featured, i’d want to see ruby lane’s story. i would like to see this production team milking the most outta the environment in the 50s, the style of the 50s, music, and whatnot. i enjoyed nurse lane even tho she was super bad at murder, so it’d be cool to see her again and who she was before her daughter got possessed and killed 7 ppl. also, ruby sings when she kills??

that’s weird and creepy and neat. totally down for it.

#fear street spoilers #fear street 1666 #fear street #sarah fier #deena johnson #nick goode #sam fraser #josh johnson #ziggy berman #ruby lane #nurse lane #martin p franklin #gosh u guys #i rly dug this movie #i rly dug the trilogy as a whole #i was hype to begin with but it exceeded by expectations #i want more

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orphic-osamu · 4 years ago

Note

Could you please do “If you dye your hair, your soulmate’s hair color changes as well” from the milestone event with Akutagawa please?

title ↠ yin & yang

wc ↠ 1105

genre ↠ fluff

a/n ↠ i am so sorry it took so long

— AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE —

— black is for death, evil and mystery

akutagawa screamed all of the above when you first saw him. you refused to believe he was who you were meant to spend your entire life with. as a civilian who very much cared for lives, a member of the mafia wasn’t ideal as a soulmate. when he first saw you, he greeted you with a sneer and a furrow of his non existent eyebrows.

tch. he could at least be nice to me.

you ignored the bubbling irritation in you and smiled kindly towards him. he was oblivious at the curses you uttered in your mind for the mess of a hair color he had you both wear.

pure black all over but the tips, which were dipped in white in what looked like a shit recreation of yin and yang. he didn’t seem to realize at first, that you were his soulmate.

“some shit dye job you got,” he muttered, walking past you. you grabbed on to his arm in a tight grip. with gritted teeth and a steel glare you tried to appear as calm as possible.

“you mean what you got, dear soulmate.” you let go of him and your lips curled back into the poison filled smile.

it took him a while and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. truth be told, you weren’t so sure if he really was your other half, but the tingles that shot up your spine when you touched him confirmed it.

you weren’t a stranger to akutagawa’s infamous identity ever since he bombed the police station nearby. when you saw his hair color and yours, you had an inkling. years of never seeing anyone with your hair color and now realizing it was some murderer who had some weird sense of a good hair color.

you didn’t want to be associated with him at all. but seeing as being away from your soulmate after meeting them impacts their health, and akutagawa looking like death, you had no choice but to stick around.

it started with a compromise. he’d meet you after work for a while to ease himself and then you’d go your separate ways, seeing each other enough to stay healthy. but around the fourth time, you saw him cough violently. you were physically fine, though it wasn’t the same for him. getting beat up by his superior everyday and suffering from a sickness affecting his lungs did not make things easier for him.

you didn’t like him one bit.

but you also did not want him to die.

you started seeing him more often, for longer periods of time. it was always quiet with you two. the library was the most common spot, it required silence and you could read books to pass the time.

“what kind of book is that?”

the first thing he said after your introduction had you cursing at him.

“shut the fuck up, count dracula looking ass.”

his eyes widened, mouth parting in shock. he clearly, didn’t expect you to snap back at him. you huffed angrily and refused to even look at him for the rest of your meeting.

the next day was spent at the park. you wanted to spend all day at home but you’d rather not have akutagawa know where you live. he met you a little later than usual, clad in casual clothes, in complete contrast to the emo victorian era style he had.

“you okay?” you asked with a snort, “catch a fever?”

he sighed and nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned against the trunk of the tree you were sitting under. “something of the sort.”

your eyebrows jumped in surprise. you were merely joking. you wriggled aside, patting the space beside you for him to sit down, albeit hesitant. he looked at you weirdly before sitting.

“do you— uh...” you coughed, “wanna hold my hand?”

the silence that came after was incredibly awkward it made you want to crawl in a hole and die right then and there.

“to make you feel better!” you added after a long pause.

he looked away before slipping his hand into yours on your lap, a dark blush painting the tips of his ears and the apple of your cheeks. your body was stiff against his own. akutagawa let out a shaky sigh, squirming around to release the tension in his shoulders and to get comfortable with the bark pressing on his back.

“i should’ve brought a book dammit.” you muttered, low enough so he wouldn’t hear.

or so you thought.

“[name].”

you looked at him curiously. that was the first time he’s ever said your name, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies in your stomach. he fidgeted in place before pushing the paper bag he carried with him towards you.

“huh?”

you tried your best to pry it open with one hand and flushed a dark red at the sight of the object inside, his own cheeks following suit.

“it’s the sequel to the book you were reading, the library didn’t have it so i..” he trailed off, coughing awkwardly.

“oh.”

“yeah.”

you put the bag aside, your hand feeling sweaty in his. was he trying to make up for yesterday?

“thank you,” you muttered. you felt his shoulders drop in relief beside you. the silence lasted for a little longer as you worked up the courage to talk to him. it started with asking about his day, then how he got sick, and finally offering to take care of him for the next few days. it was uncomfortable to say the least, but as soon as he cracked a small smile at the stumble in your words, your worries slipped away. he was definitely not the type to smile and that’s what made it so special. like it was a secret only you two could know.

when the sun began to set, his grin deeped to a frown and his eyes glazed over with an emotion you couldn’t decipher.

“can we.. try things out?” his voice was hushed to a whisper, tone so low you could’ve sworn you misheard him, but his pursed lips and solemn look.

maybe he isn’t so bad after all. maybe his shit representation of yin and yang wasn’t so far off. for you were his yang, the pure in the world with the tiny bit of bad with your heart beating faster for a notorious criminal. and for he was your yin, the murderous victorian vampire with the hopes of being a worthy soulmate in your eyes.

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

Text

Flower | 30

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff

; Warnings: Discussions of sex, questions of consent (no rape, don’t worry), body issues, body weight issues, self-esteem problems, self-confidence issues, brief mention of self-harm thoughts, mentions of bullying

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This chapter is one pretty close to me and might be tough for anyone else who’s also overweight or has been overweight during those tough times in school! Don’t worry about the MC, she’s okay. There’s no rape, the consent thing is briefly mentioned as a question. Please reblog this if you enjoyed so others can read, leave me comments or asks so I can know what you think :) only 10 more chapters left...

; Flower Masterpost

Giggling quietly to yourself, you scroll through the pictures on your phone carefully. It takes you forever to finally move onto the next one as you feel the need to carefully scan over each one in depth to catch all the little things. There’s so much to find in each picture and you spend as long as you can looking them over in amusement, grinning at the odd fashion choices.

“What are you laughing at?” Hoseok asks, coming over from the kitchen with a fresh glass of water for you and a cup of peppermint tea for himself. He’d only been home from work for about ten minutes while you’d been home for over half an hour now. Taking a sip from your glass, you smirk at him slightly as he sits next to you with a deep sigh.

Tiredness is etched into his face today, the dark circles under his eyes a little deeper than usual. He’d been struggling to sleep lately for some reason, waking up repeatedly apparently. Reaching over, you gently cup his cheek and stroke his skin softly, enjoying the welcome smile he gives before you turn your phone around to let him see.

“Interesting hair. How many jars of hair gel did you go through when you were a teenager?” You tease him, watching as his eyes widen when he realises what the photo is. It’s of Hoseok when he was a teenager; maybe fourteen or fifteen and with what looks like a bucket of grease on his head. The spikes of his hair turn quickly into an overly long hairstyle in the next picture, straightened but with a distinctive fringe covering one eye.

“You had an emo phase! Look at you! All that eyeliner and those neon streaks. I never had an emo phase, you know. I don’t think I had any phase to be honest. Except for a horse phase when I was really young.” Hoseok goes to grab for your phone, his mouth pulled into a cringe as you scroll to the next picture and reveal yet another emo looking Hoseok with an abundance of sweatbands, colourful wristbands and more. He looked distinctly drunk, even though he can’t have been more than sixteen.

It’s so strange seeing Hoseok with slightly chubbier cheeks, his body gangly and lean in that teenage boy way as it went through the process of puberty while his face still maintained such a youthful look. Despite that, you can see the template for the statuesque face he’d end up with already in the pictures. The elegant slope of his nose was still pretty, even if he’d not quite grown into it at that point and a jawline that’s not quite as strong as it is now.

“Mom sent you this, didn’t she?” He groans, rubbing at his eyes before peering back at the phone through gaps between his fingers. Chortling softly, you shake your head before looking back at the screen.

“No, actually. She put them on her Facebook. Apparently she found the pictures while cleaning and scanned them in. Reminiscing about your wild years.” That makes Hoseok make the strangest noise, a combination of a groan and a shout. He’s looking at his own phone instantly, face palming when he sees the pictures.

“Moooom,” He whines pathetically, looking through them. You place your phone down on the coffee table and shuffle closer to him, letting yourself see the photos through his screen. Glancing at his face, you take in his slight frown and the pout of his lips, hoping he’s not too annoyed that his mom has put them up.

“Are you angry at her?” Shaking his head, he sighs deeply before letting his phone drop onto the table too.

“Not really. Just...it’s more embarrassing. Though, isn’t that her job at this age? As you can see through; I’ve always been good looking. Maybe not always with the best style admittedly but...at least the music is still great. My Chemical Romance remains one of the best bands in my opinion, even if they’re not as heavy as what I listen to now.” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs up and rest a hand on your knee.

“I mean...it was certainly a style.”

“So come on then, I’ve shown you mine. Where’s your embarrassing teenage pics?” Hoseok teases, sticking his tongue out at you playfully. The silver ball of his tongue piercing catching the light momentarily before it disappears into his mouth once more.

Awkwardly, you smile back at him before shrugging slightly. The sudden change in your behaviour is obviously noticeable as Hoseok frowns, tilting his head in a silent question at you. Licking your lips, you realise that you’re playing with your fingers. A nervous habit.

“I don’t have any,” At the confusion Hoseok shows, you clear your throat. “I mean, outside of graduation photos. I...I wouldn’t let myself be photographed back then.”

“Wha-, seriously? Like...none? I don’t think my parents would have let me, even as grumpy as I was to them all the time.” You can understand why he doesn’t understand. There’s not many people you can think of who have near enough zero pictures of those years. For many teenagers today, the very idea of not having a million pictures might be unthinkable.

“Have you ever been overweight?” You ask quietly, the question seemingly random as you lean into him until he has to wrap his arm around you to make it comfortable. For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Being with him for well over a year now means that you’ve come to understand him, the knowledge that he’s not ignoring you but considering your question carefully.

“No. Can’t say I have.” He finally answers, running his fingers along your arm slowly.

Twisting your lips, you sigh heavily and let your head fall back against his shoulders as you let your mind wander back to when you were younger. Back to where your insecurities began, all those years ago. Swallowing hard, you decide to go ahead with it. You’d alluded to it enough and now felt like the right time to finally talk about your formative years.

But your breath stutters, throat closing tighter as you realise it’s hard to go back to then. To when you were so easily hurt and affected by everything. Even in the safety of Hoseok’s embrace, you felt the tremor of fear and anxiety as your memories came back tainted.

“I have. I mean, when I was a little kid, I was like a stick. I could eat whatever I wanted and I used to spend so much time running around having fun. We don’t have too many pictures from back then; my parents couldn’t really afford a camera. Occasionally they’d get a disposable one but that’s about it. But...when I hit puberty around twelve or thirteen...I just kind of, ballooned? I don’t think I even realised it at the time, but it’s like my metabolism just plummeted or something. And before I knew it...I was the fat kid in class.” The heat in your eyes tells you that you’re on the verge of crying and you take a moment to breathe, blinking hard before looking up at the ceiling.

Hoseok remains quiet, letting you tell him without interrupting or anything.

“I mean...no one outright bullied me or anything, you know? It wasn’t like in the movies where you’re getting beaten up or shoved into lockers. It was more...the comments, the looks and just the general knowledge that you’re not attractive. Teenagers are really good at making those sly comments that are so hurtful, especially when you’re so young and still finding yourself. It’d be like...we’d be watching something and a pig would turn up on the screen and somebody would snicker and say it was me. Or someone else would joke about dating me and...I could just tell that it was an insult. And that their reasoning was my weight.” The arm around you tightens suddenly, as if hearing the casual cruelty you’d endured had ignited Hoseok’s protective instincts.

Memories flit by in your mind as you recall incidents; someone in your class finding out your crush and spreading that you liked them. Their disbelieving snort as they looked you up and down, their eyes falling heavily on your stomach before saying it would never happen. Without even realising it, you’re cradling your stomach now. Still not flat like you’d always fantasised, but not like it used to be.

You didn’t hate it now at least. Never loved, but not hated anymore.

“That...that sticks with you. Something I’m not too sure people realise is that, like, when you’re overweight...you’re constantly aware of it. It’s not just your body, it’s your life. It is you. There’s this weird mentality that people think overweight folk don’t know it, that you’re oblivious. You’re never oblivious. You’re not allowed to be oblivious. People make sure you’re aware, you know? The people telling you it’s unhealthy or it’s ugly and stuff. If you’re overweight, you’re well aware of these issues. But trying to resolve them is just as hard. You go to the gym and you’re aware of all the fat rolls, the way you jiggle and roll. How you’re out of breath doing the simplest thing while super fit people are probably watching you in disgust, even though you’re there to get fit,”

“If you eat, then you feel uncomfortably aware that you’re not just eating. That you’re fat and eating. So you become self-conscious over food. If it’s something healthy like a salad then you just think everyone is laughing at you. ‘What’s she bothering with that for?’. If it’s unhealthy then it’s more like, ‘of course she’s eating that, the lard ass’. You’re hyper aware of every aspect of your life and that’s the worst thing. Just...being so aware. You’re convinced that everyone is judging you, staring at you or talking about you. I felt so many times when I was like, fifteen or sixteen that I just...took up more space than I should.” Wiping at your eyes, you sniff before looking at Hoseok and giving him a watery smile.

The concern on his face for you makes your heart swell, the knowledge that he’s listening to you openly. That he cares. Even if you’re exposing a part of you that you’ve never let anyone see. Not even Chungha or Soyeon. It had felt far too personal, something that they couldn’t understand.

“It’s like...everyone has a certain amount of space they’re allowed to have, but when you’re fat, you realise that you take up more. And you become so aware that other people don’t like that. That they’re disgusted by the idea, and you become afraid of things like...sitting on a seat in a bus because you’re terrified of spreading past your ‘space’. Or sliding through a small gap and the panic that you’re just being...too much. I’d always try and run to the school bus when class finished so that I could find a seat first. And I’d always let the other person sit next to the window so that I could hang as close to the edge as possible and get off quickly. Then I’d panic that I’d look disgusting to others, half-hanging off the seat. I just...it affects you. Mentally. You just do things differently because you’re always aware of your body. In negative ways,”

“I’d never go swimming with anyone else. Mandatory swim classes left me panicked because it meant people would see me. See all the lumps and the bumps, everything I hated. I’d never look at myself naked in the mirror, or even in my underwear because I hated it. I was disgusted. I used to fantasise about just...slicing off bits of me to make myself nice and thin. I don’t even know if that’s normal.” Your voice breaks slightly, going slightly hoarse as you recall the pure hatred and revulsion you’d felt for yourself back then. The way your body felt like a cage you were trapped in.

Sitting up straight again, you take a deep breath to fortify yourself before smiling at him gently. Taking his hand, you squeeze it for reassurance and feel comforted when he squeezes back.

“I hated myself. Didn’t ever think I was going to be anything amazing. Or that I’d ever fall in love. How could anyone fall in love with me when I hated myself, right? When I was seventeen, I finally took the plunge and joined this free gym. Started eating healthier. It was really hard. I hated it so much. Vomited everywhere from the exercise, cried a lot. I wanted to lose weight healthily though, not too fast otherwise I’d end up thin but with skin flaps. So it was gradual. I wasn’t hugely overweight thankfully, but I only felt finally happy when I was nineteen.” Now you laugh at yourself, rolling your eyes and poking at your stomach in amusement before kissing Hoseok’s cheek playfully.

He doesn’t laugh back, causing you to kiss him gently. A silent way of letting him know that you’re okay, that it’s okay for him to laugh and smile too. When you pull away, he hesitates for a moment before giving you a slightly awkward smile. It’s enough for you.

“That’s why I didn’t have any experience until college. I was nineteen when I met Chungha and Soyeon in class. They were like...these ridiculously beautiful girls who were so confident and full of life, you know? Partygoers and everything. And I wasn’t. But somehow, we found things in common and it’s like...they knew I needed encouragement. So, it was slow but...I did stuff. I went to the parties...hated them just as much as I thought I would. Finally kissed a guy; wasn't as good as I thought it’d be. Lost my virginity to a random guy at a party in some house when I was twenty. Also wasn’t that good. The extent of my dating life was a few guys who didn’t last long. Both in terms of relationship and sex.” You grin at Hoseok, wiggling your brows and causing him to chuckle in amusement.

His chest gets a little bigger as he pushes it up, a smug look on his face. “All those memories obviously pale in comparison to my amazing kissing and sex skills.”

Snorting, you push at him playfully before reaching up and pulling him down, hand resting on the short undercut hair on his neck as you bring him into a kiss. Hoseok obviously wants to prove his skills, kissing you a little more intense than you’d expected but you just laugh into it before pulling away and smiling at him happily.

“Well...I’m not going to say you’re wrong. It did kind of depress me a little that it seemed guys were only interested when I was a bit thinner but, I also felt a weird sense of pride. That I’d finally done it. Gotten what I thought I’d wanted. Until I realised I hated that whole scene and wanted nothing to do with it. So...I just kept myself as in shape as I could over the years and tried to come to terms with myself. As you know...I’m not quite there. But I’m better than I was, I promise. I just feel a little bad that I was convinced being thin would change things. It changes some stuff but...not everything.”

You can tell that Hoseok isn’t entirely sure what to say. It isn’t surprising really, you wouldn’t have any idea how to respond to someone telling you all these sad things they’d experienced either. But then again, you were just generally useless when it came to anyone else’s emotions and feelings.

When he does finally speak again, his question surprises you completely as it seems to have nothing to do with what you’d just been telling him.

“Did you drink alcohol back then? I know you don’t drink it now because you don’t like the taste but if you went to parties…” He trails off, his face twisted in question as he considers what you’ve said. It was true that you didn’t like the taste, hence why you never drank it. You also just preferred to drink something like water as it was much healthier for you.

“I did. Too much. When I started going to them, I threw myself into the alcohol as it helped me to overcome my shyness. A drunk me is apparently very outgoing. I also have very little inhibitions when I’m drunk. Pretty sure the only reason I first kissed a guy was because I was completely fucked. And I’d drank a lot when I lost my virginity; there was no other way I was going to get naked in front of a guy.” You don’t notice the instant concern on Hoseok’s face when you say that, your gaze far away as you stare unseeingly at the TV screen.

You’re too busy remembering those wild years in college. Or what you can remember anyway. Another reason you hated alcohol was the way you didn’t feel in control of yourself and your emotions while inebriated along with the way you often end up forgetting parts of a night. Why anyone could possibly enjoy that all the time was beyond you.

“You...I hate to have to ask this but...you did...consent to it. Right? It wasn’t like...forced on you?” Hoseok sounds intensely uncomfortable as he asks the questions, causing you to frown as you look back at him. “I just...if you were really as drunk as you say you were, then I mean, well, I just...I wouldn’t have been comfortable sleeping with a girl who would only sleep with me if she was completely inebriated.”

He shifts in position on the couch, bringing a knee up so only one foot remains on the floor while taking your hands. The look on his face is completely earnest and filled with worry. For you. And you finally click as to what he’s talking about. Hoseok is concerned that you may have been raped for your first time.

Smiling at him gently, you squeeze his hands and shake your head. “No, no baby. Please don’t think that, I swear. It was consensual. I wasn’t that drunk. Just...enough to let me get over my worries. I needed the alcohol for the confidence and the lights off. I remember it all though. He wasn’t good but he wasn’t mean or anything either.”

His worry seems to decrease a little, shoulders lowering as he lets out a deep breath and you marvel for a moment that you’ve found someone who gets worried about things like that. Things that you hadn’t even bothered to properly consider. If you hadn’t been completely sure in the knowledge of your first time then you’d be concerned as well.

Leaning forward, you kiss his cheek affectionately before grinning at him and cupping his chin. “Thank you for being concerned about me though. I promise, I’ve never been forced into anything like that. I may not have enjoyed a lot of sex but I did it openly in the hopes of it getting better.”

Hoseok’s cheeks flush ever so slightly and you laugh sweetly, kissing his lips quickly before shifting back. Leaning against the couch sideways, you let your head flop onto the back and smile at him.

“So, yeah. That’s why I have no pictures of me from being a teenager. If you thought I don’t like being photographed now, then you’d be shocked to see me back then.” There’s a moment where Hoseok is stiff, unsure of what to do before he smiles back and shifts into a similar position, his head closer than you might have anticipated.

But you get the sense that he’s a little uncertain of how to proceed now.

So you make the move for him, gently pushing at him until he’s laying on the couch. The L-shape means he’s at the point the two halves connect, one half completely free except for Kasumi stretched out. But you want the safety and security of his body. Not only for yourself, but also to comfort him. Even if he hasn’t said it, you can tell he’s a little unsettled by your negative feelings towards yourself.

Hoseok let’s you move him with ease, smiling happily when you get yourself settled and comfortable. His natural scent is strongest at the base of his neck, and you inhale it happily while your arm rests over his waist. Even if you’d talked about your deep and painful teenage years as willingly as you could to him, it was still traumatic to remember. And you needed your own comfort to assure yourself that those years were over.

“Well, I don’t think you’d have wanted to meet teenage Hoseok. So it's probably a good idea we never knew each other.” Humming, you recall all the times Hoseok has told you about his own teenage years. Unlike you, he was much more open about them. Mainly because he acknowledged how bad he’d been.

“I doubt it would have mattered anyway. From what I’ve learnt from you, teenage Hoseok wouldn’t have given me one look. Nevermind two looks.” There’s a brief pause and you feel Hoseok’s chest rise as he goes to respond. He stops though and you chuckle, running your fingers along the soft material of his shirt over his stomach.

“...you might have got one look. I mean, I’ll be honest. I wasn’t exactly picky but that’s not a good thing. Just means I was an out of control teenager. Besides, it sounds like you were very shy and quiet. I was...not. Loud, brash, abrasive. Often drunk and high. God, I was terrible. I don’t know how my parents put up with me, honestly. I wouldn’t have wanted you to meet me. I’d have just hurt you even more.” Humming, you wiggle against him slightly and kiss his neck gently.

“I’m glad we met when we did. I think we’d both had enough time to grow and accept ourselves. There’s no way I would have reached out to you if I was still like my teenage self. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have said yes if you’d been like you were.”

“True. Three cheers for maturity! But on a more serious note; I’m glad you’ve told me. I figured there was something along those lines after all these months but...I understand more now. I hope I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed.” Closing your eyes, you nuzzled closer to him while shaking your head.

“You haven’t. At least, not through anything you’ve done. It’s mostly been in my head. If anything...you’ve helped me to grow and become more...loving of myself. Just you accepting me has helped so much for my mind to understand that...well, I’m not ugly or anything. That you’re not judging me. And that you actually find me attractive. It’s a slow process.” You feel the press of Hoseok’s soft lips against your forehead, their warmth resting there for a few moments while the arm wrapped around you gently runs along your arm.

The very fact that you can talk with him like this is pure proof of the growth you’ve experienced over almost a year and a half with Hoseok. Just his welcome acceptance and love of you has created a safe space for you to explore yourself and grow comfortable in your own skin and mind. It was nice.

“I’m glad. And if I ever do anything that’s wrong, then please tell me. The last thing I want is to be an asshole by accident. Or remind you of a bad time.” Laughing gently, you smile and nod before tightening your arms around his waist fondly.

“I mean...I’m still considering the whole lingerie thing. Especially those super revealing ones. I’d love to wear one but I just...don’t think I look sexy in them.” Pouting, you shift as Hoseok moves until he’s looking at you with wide eyes that quickly become stern. Poking your cheek gently, he tuts.

“I’m not gonna push you into that, but there’s literally no way you wouldn’t look sexy wearing black lace lingerie. Oh god. Just the thought of you in it makes me hard. But for now, I’m content with my mind for that.” The way he presses his hips against you lets you know that he’s being truthful, the mental image of you in the lingerie you’d bought on a whim the other month causing the erection that presses against you.

Grinning, you push at him until he’s laying back again and crawl on top of him, raising your brows. “I think you just get horny at the thought of sex full stop.”

“Well...duh. I’m a man. With a beautiful girlfriend. Whom I enjoy sex with.” Laughing loudly, you lean down and kiss his nose playfully. The whine he lets out when he tries to follow you for a proper kiss causes you to grin as you press at his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Glad to hear it.”

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burningupp-replies · 4 years ago

Text

You were nervous. Of course you saw your friends all the time, and you were particularly excited to see Suki (let's face it who wouldn't be) and everyone had picked 3 kickass movies to watch - and yet, the thing you were focusing on most? Some emo boy with a scar.

Even thinking of him that way felt so wrong. First of all, he deserved to be recognized as a person, and a sweet one at that. Second, his scar was not a defining feature. Maybe at first glance, yes, but for some reason his scar seemed... Endearing. It suited him, in a weird way.

But also, yes; you definitely had some type of feelings towards your coworker. That was definitely the reason for your nerves, as much as you hated to admit it. And Sokka's constant "subtle hints" (read: blatant matchmaking) were making your nerves ramp up even more.

At 7:15 you started freaking out - everyone was there except for him. Did he change his mind? Did he decide that you weren't worth his time? Did his girlfriend-which-he-probably-had convince him to go out on a date instead?

You were going to throw up.

"I am pathetic," you told Suki, who snorted in response.

"Yeah, pretty much." when you groaned at your friend's general unhelpfulness, she sighed and turned her full attention on you. "He has never been here before, right?"

"No..."

"Uh huh. He's probably stuck looking for parking or lost or something. Stop worrying, y/n, he will be here and he will enjoy himself."

With that, Suki turned her full attention to her dumbass of a boyfriend, and you got up to go into the kitchen for a soda. Once you got one, you were headed back to the living room when the doorbell rang. Your blood turned to ice in your veins, and you suddenly forgot how to breathe.

In that moment, you felt as stupid as ever. He was just some dumb guy who just so happened to capture your attention a little. So what? People had stupid crushes all the time - sometimes it went somewhere, sometimes it didn't. You put on your big girl panties, and went to answer the door.

Only to be struck dumb once more.

Shit.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a fitted dark red sweater. He was holding a grocery bag and a takeaway tray with a bunch of cups from the JD. He looked good, mouthwateringly so.

"Hi, y/n," he greeted.

You blinked once before scolding yourself mentally. He's a freaking person, y/n, say something!

"Hi, Zuzu!"

Nailed it.

You grinned widely and stepped aside, allowing him into yours and Sokka's apartment.

"Sorry I'm late, parking was... Difficult," he smiled, and you looked at him apologetically.

"I should have warned you. And it's fine, you're here now, so we can get started! The others are in the living room."

You guided Zuko into the living room, where greetings and hugs were shared throughout the group. He gave everyone a cup of tea - apparently Iroh had a soft spot for the gaang.

"I have some drinks and snacks with me, mind if I go into the kitchen and borrow a bowl and a glass?" he asked politely after a while.

"No problem," Sokka piped up. "y/n can show you." He then proceeded to wink very animatedly at you, and you could feel your cheeks heating up.

"That I can," you agreed with an eye roll at your roommate. "Sorry about that idiot," you sighed once you and Zuko were in the kitchen.

"No worries," he smiled as he dug around in his grocery bag. "I've known him since high school; trust me when I say I know him."

You laughed a bit at that, handing him a bowl which he accepted without a pause. It gave you a weird feeling of domesticity, and you pushed down the butterflies that were battling their way out. Instead of swooning, you grabbed a glass and poured one of his drinks for him, while he put the other ones he brought into the fridge. You couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"Alright, movie time!" you said, clapping your hands together before leading him out of the room.

In the living room, everyone were spread out everywhere. Katara and Aang were sharing a love seat, Sokka and Suki were taking up a whole-ass couch and Toph was sitting on the floor, leaving Zuko and you the other love seat as your only option. The small one, might you add. You glowered at everyone, but they all just smirked back (except for Toph, who was oblivious).

"Oh," Zuko murmured, his cheeks tinged a light pink that might just be your new favorite color.

"It's fine," you started, "I can sit on the floor."

"No, you don't have to - there's enough room for both of us," Zuko protested, and you smiled, unsure.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," you mumbled, your cheeks heating up again.

"Oh my god, just share the damn seat. I want to listen to a movie," Toph groaned. Yep, definitely blushing now.

Everyone laughed, and you glared at them as you and Zuko sat down on the couch. Sokka started the movie - Aladdin, the remake from 2019.

~*~

"That was a good movie," Aang praised happily as the movie ended.

"It was alright," Zuko agreed as everyone began to stretch. "So, what happens now?"

You gazed at him, not that you had much choice since your brain hadn't been able to focus on anything but him throughout the entire movie. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you had repositioned to stretch out your legs. You hadn't thought about where you put them, though, and had ended up with them partially over his lap. You started to pull away immediately, but Zuko had just grabbed your legs like it was the most natural thing in the world and draped them over his lap. Needless to say, Sokka had been smirking. Bastard.

"Now we take a fifteen minute break, talk some shit, get some drinks, go to the bathroom, and then we watch another movie. Frozen is up next, right?" Suki answered, to which you ripped your eyes away from Zuko to nod.

Zuko looked over at you and smiled, saying, "I think I'm good here."

You practically died.

TEAMWORK | part 5

A/N: Since you guys asked me to, I wrote out the whole movie night! Hope you guys enjoy it, even though my writing is kinda shit lol. This is also the last one I will post before Christmas, HOWEVER I am from Sweden, so I celebrate with family and stuff the 24th, so I will probably have the next part up on the 25th (don't quote me on that tho). I really hope you guys enjoy it! Lmk if you want to be on the taglist :) love youuuuuuu <3

Taglist:

@theblueslytherin @bakugouswh0r3 @slutforsalvatore @charlenasaxen

#aang #atla smau #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #katara #toph #zuko #zuko smau #zuko x reader #smau #prince zuko #atla zuko #sokka #suki

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ajthedumbass · 4 years ago

Text

Son of a Preacher

Summary: Patton Hart lives in a small town. As son of the local preacher, he’s supposed to be an example of a good Christian son. While trying to meet expectations, one boy might change his life.

Pairings: Mainly intruality, with side analogical and roceit

Warnings: Alcohol, underage drinking, religion, abuse, homophobia, swearing, mentions of sex, internalized homophobia, homophobic slurs, blood. I think that’s all but let me know if there’s more

A/N: I know my writing style is weird short little ‘scenes’. Its easier for my brain to process short chunks.

< Previous Part All Parts Next Part >

Chapter 3

Patton sits under a tree, waiting for Remus to show up. For the past three weeks, they had regularly stayed at the pond for hours to look for frogs and feed the ducks (and maybe kiss a time or two). Then Remus would walk him home before heading off wherever.

They weren’t exactly boyfriends, so Patton had planned to ask him. He’d never asked anyone out before, but he got advice from Virgil and Logan. He was nervous, but ready. Excited even.

He hops up excitedly when he sees him approaching, his face falling when he realizes he’s pissed. As Remus gets closer, he notices bruises and blood. “Remus? What happened?!”

“I went to check on Janus and that bastard of a father was beating him again. I tried to get between them but he got me. At least I got a few good punches in.” Remus says with a twisted grin, showing off his bruises knuckles.

Patton just stands there in silent shock. “Re... We need to report this, we need to-”

“You really think the officers in this town will give two shits about a couple of faggots getting beat up? They’ll probably just arrest me for assault because I punched the bitch.” Remus says, finally breaking down. “It’s not like I don’t get this bullshit at home enough. Sometimes I just wish Roman would fuck up somehow so I wouldn’t be the only to get- I shouldn’t say that. He doesn’t deserve to go through it too... Ow, my head! God I’m such a horrible person!”

Patton immediately gets his first aid kit out of his backpack and starts pouring rubbing alcohol on a cloth. “You’re not a horrible person, Remus... You shouldn’t have to go through that in the first place. You wishing someone else could take some of the burden doesn’t make you horrible. It makes you human.” Patton says softly and reassuringly. “Now, this might sting a little- sorry!” He say when Remus winces at the rubbing alcohol on his forehead. He moves to gently dabbing at his knuckles with the soaked cloth before feeling a hand on his cheek.

He squeaks in surprise as Remus kisses him, but unlike previous times, the kiss isn’t over quickly. It isn’t short and sweet, but harder and more... desperate? He didn’t know how to describe the feeling. He knew he liked it.

Patton gasps as Remus gently lays him back onto the grass, lips still firmly attached. He lies there awkwardly as they kiss, a little unsure of what to do. Remus pulls away and chuckles. “Have you ever made out with anyone, Patty?~”

“N-No...” Patton replies and shakes his head. He’s gone a dark shade of red, completely flustered at the situation.

Remus’ face drops, immediately getting off of him. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry! I’m full of adrenaline and emotional. That’s no excuse. You’ve told me you’re nervous of getting caught. Making out in an open park is... And I haven’t even asked you to be my boyfriend yet, I-”

“Remus...”

“Yes?”

“Ask me”

Remus furrows his brows in confusion. “Ask wh- Oh! Patton, will you be my boyfriend?”

Patton smiles widely. “Yes!” He exclaims, kissing Remus softly.

Remus kisses back, pulling away after a few moments. “Does this mean we can have an excuse to get Roman and Janus at the same table now?”

Patton giggles. “Of course. And my parents will be so glad to hear we’ve added another ‘lost soul’ to our group of saviors. You know, four queers, two of whom have done unholy acts in the back of a car where I had the utmost misfortune of seeing them.”

“Yikes. Who knew a nerd and an emo could be so horny?” Remus jokes and revels in the sound of Patton’s laugh.

The pair talked for a while, sitting under the tree and kissing every now and then. They talked as Patton constantly worried over Remus’ head. They talked until the sun was starting to set and Patton had fallen asleep.

Remus gently scoops the boy up in his arms and starts walking him home, realizing his parents must be worried about him. He smiles at the boy snoozing in his arms. He looked peaceful and had a faint smile on his lips. He looked happy.

Remus sighs as he reaches Patton’s front door, knocking quietly so he doesn’t wake him up. He puts on his best smile as a woman opens the door.

“Oh, hello Remus” Mrs. Hart says, visibly uncomfortable.

“Hello Mrs. Hart!” Remus replies politely.

“What happened to you?! And is Patton okay? Is he sleeping or unconscious?!” The mother asks worriedly.

Remus adjusts his hold of the boy carefully. “He’s asleep, don’t worry ma’am. And I got into a fight standing up for a friend.” He replies, leaving out the part of it being his friend’s father. “Patton patched me up. He refused to leave my side- uh, scared I had a concussion. He didn’t want me to fall asleep... ironically.”

Mrs. Hart sighs in relief. “He’s got a big heart... Would you mind laying him on the couch. I’ll grab you an ice pack if you need it...”

Remus shakes him head and carries him inside. “I’m fine, really. Just wanted to get him home.”

“Well thank you. You know, you’re a good kid. If you could just get your... problems fixed, I feel you’d make a good member of the church.”

Remus sets Patton down gently before turning. “My what?”

Mrs. Hart sighs. “You know, the drinking, the fights, the drugs, your... attractions.”

Remus gulps and nods, trying to suppress his anger. “I need to get going before my parents get too worried. I’ll see you at church, ma’am... Tell Patton I’m okay.” He says, walking out before she could say anything.

A sense of worry sets in. How much danger was he putting Patton in by being with him? The thought scared him. He was so happy when he said yes and now... now he was wondering if he should’ve ever started talking to him in the first place.

“Shit...”

Taglist: @ravenivy2079 @fire-and-ash67 @the-sympathetic-villain

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once-more-just-vibing · 4 years ago

Text

I’m gonna rewrite the IBVS fic ‘cuz I no longer vibe with it

Same thing as the other but hopefully less ooc

IBVS is by @onebizarrekai

"What's up with him?"

The rain fell in droves, soaking him to the bone almost instantly. But that wasn't his main concern at the moment.

"He's been acting weird for weeks."

He couldn't afford to stop and catch his breath, he just needed to keep running.

Running.

R͙̜̱̈́u̬͚ͯͭͥ̀n̜͕̤͖͑́͛̚͜n̳̖̯̖͊͢ͅi͓̮̖̹̲̜͈̤ͧ̿̋͜ň̴̳̠̱͙̂g͔̺͉̭̗͖͍̏̄ͭ͗̀

"I hope he's OK."

Then the worst happened, he slipped and went sprawling into the pavement. After the shock wore off, he tried to scramble to his feet before he was caught by-

"Hello there Quinton."

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

"Chris, I know you mean well, but I'm not helping." Isaac said, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"C'mon, Isaac!" Chris responded, his own lunch forgotten, "You won't even try?"

The artist sighed, "Look, I get what you're saying and I'm glad you've got this heart of pure gold, but I'm. Not. Helping."

"Alright, I get it, you and Ed don't have the best relationship, but still! Besides, he's trying to get better too!"

Isaac hesitated for a moment, "Fine, I'll admit that he's more... Tolerable nowadays. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna' go sticking my nose in his business. Even if he wanted someone to bother him there's still the issue of-" he waved his hands for emphasis, "Neither of us like each other."

Chris huffed in annoyance, "Fine, I'll go figure it out myself."

"Good luck with that!" Isaac called after him as Chris left.

Chris had just walked through the door when he was tapped on the shoulder. He jolted and turned to see who did it, relaxing slightly when he saw that it was someone he didn’t know.

He looked at the other student in confusion, “Do I know you?”

The other student just shook his head, “No, sorry, I forget not everyone knows me sometimes.” he stuck out his hand, “Name’s Barry, I’m Edward’s friend.”

After a moment of hesitation, Chris reached out and shook his hand, “Alright, what did you need?”

"I believe you've noticed that something's up with Ed too." He said, his face unreadable.

"How did you know?" Chris asked, beginning to feel slightly nervous.

Barry just gave him a friendly smile, "Call it a hunch. Now, I assume I'm correct?"

Chris nodded slowly, "Yeah... What's it mean to you?"

"Well, I care about my best friend for one. There's also the fact that very little goes on in this school without me knowing so when there is, I like to know what I didn't before. No c'mon, we've got a lot of figuring out to do."

Chris didn't have a chance to speak before Barry was pulling him down the hall towards who know where.

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

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, the answers Barry and Chris were looking for were revealing themselves.

"I-I haven't t-touched Drew!" Edward stuttered, backtracking quickly, "J-just leave me alone!"

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid," Nevin sneered, "I saw you two together. Now get over here."

"I-I... I'll do anything!" Edward pleaded, "I'll n-never even LOOK at him again!"

Nevin just stepped forward, "I warned you Quinton..."

"P-please." He whispered, freezing as he hit the wall.

He was trapped.

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

Chris jumped as Barry slammed his hands on the table, "OK, what do we know?"

After recovering from the shock, Chris hesitantly responded, "I... Guess he's been avoiding people more often? I don't know, you probably noticed more."

Barry nodded, "That's the most noticeable change. Even his little gang hasn't seen much of him outside of class."

This was new to Chris, "Wait, not even they know what's up? I thought he told them everything."

Barry shook his head, "If he didn't tell me, he wouldn't tell anyone."

"I feel like there's more between you two than just being friends."

"I'll tell you later." Barry responded dismissively, "Now, back to what we know. So no one has seen him much which implies that he's avoiding people."

"The question is why."

Barry nodded, "And unfortunately, that's something I can't figure out."

"Do you know any reasons why he wouldn't want to be around people?"

"No, not really. He's always been very social so I don't understand why he wouldn't be around others even if something was bugging him."

Chris sighed, "Then we're back at square one."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them feeling frustrated and somewhat defeated. If they couldn't figure out what was wrong they couldn't do anything to help. And it wasn't like they could just ask since Edward wasn't really known for being an open book.

"I wish this was as easy as movies made it look." Chris muttered, "I wish this was like some detective movie or something where there's a clue or sign just magically seems to appear."

And of course at that moment, the universe decided that Chris had gone thre enough already and granted his wish.

The door burst open, causing Chris and Barry to jump in surprise. The door slammed again and they could hear the sound of something thudding against the cabinets in the kitchen.

They shared a worried look before Barry stood up, "Who's there?"

There was a quiet mumble from the kitchen that neither of them could decipher.

Chris stood up next, "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

There was no response this time and after sharing a wary look, the two teens crept towards the kitchen. At first, it looked like no one was there, but once they rounded the corner they saw the intruder. Sitting on the floor, knees tucked up in a defensive position, sat the very person they'd been talking about.

"Ed...?" Barry whispered.

"Go away." Edward rasped, seeming to draw even further into himself.

"Well," Chris said, a look of confusion on his face, "I think we've got even more questions to answer now."

---------

It took them about half an hour to get Edward to leave the kitchen, and even then. he refused to be near them or say anything. Barry eventually gave up on getting Ed to talk after another half hour of fruitless attempts.

He sat down at the table with a groan, "Y'know, Ed's a good guy, but there are times where he is extremely frustrating. This is one of them."

Chris chuckled quietly and glanced out the window, "Oh geez, I didn't notice how dark it got. I wonder if my dad's wondering where I am yet."

Barry looked surprised, "Oh my gosh! You it's never told your parents!" he stood up and walked off, "I should tell Ed's mom he's spending the night."

Chris stood up after him, "Well, good luck with that. I gotta' head home before I get in more trouble than I'm definitely already in."

Barry nodded, "Alright, good luck to you too."

They waved goodbye to each other and Barry watched the other walk off until the last trace of color disappeared into the night. He shook his head, turning back to his phone as he pulled up Edward's mom's contact. Most people would consider it weird that he has the number of his best friend's mom but it made sense to him. After Ed had developed the habit of accidentally falling asleep at Barry's house, he just decided to help out and message Ed's mom for him.

Speaking of which.

Edward had finally fallen asleep, slumped over with his knees still pressed to his chest.

Barry sighed, "Wish you weren't so stubborn and let people help you..."

He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a towel, and returned to sit next to his friend. After moving Edward's arms away from his face, Barry began wiping off the tear stains. Shockingly, the jock didn't wake up, only shifting slightly. After carefully removing the other's jacket, Barry grabbed one of the blankets and practically tucked Edward in. And after a moments hesitation, he leaned down and gave his friend a soft kiss on the forehead and turned off the lights, finally heading off to get some sleep.

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

Thankfully, it was finally the weekend, meaning Barry didn't need to fight Ed to keep him home. Chris came over again, saying he wanted to help just as much as Barry did. It took an hour or so and lots of prying for Edward to finally open up. And when he did, the story he told definitely shocked the other two.

"I'll t-talk now." He mumbled.

Barry and Chris instantly started questioning him.

"What happened?"

"Are you OK?"

"Did someone do this to you?"

"How can we help?"

At this, Edward instantly shrank back into the blanket covering him, wide eyed and shaking slightly. The other two backed off upon seeing his reaction, giving him a minute to collect himself.

"Maybe don't do that next time." Was all he said, still tense but doing better.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck, visibly embarrassed, "Yeah, probably wasn't my smartest moment."

That got an annoyed scoff out of the other that caused Chris to perk up.

Barry spoke up after a second, "Could you tell us what happened now?"

Ed flinched again, obviously not liking the conversation, "I... Guess..." he took a breath, steeling himself for the coming conversation, and finally spoke. "It started a couple weeks ago. Stupid-" His face scrunched up in disgust, "Stupid fuckin'... Emo kid said something 'bout me messing with his brother. Of course I wasn't 'cuz even if I was like, violent all the time, I'm not gonna' beat up a kid on crutches. That's just sick. But yeah, the asshole kept catching me after school and just pummeling me. I tried to fight back a couple times but that didn't work so I just tried avoiding him. That didn't work either so I just started avoiding people altogether. Didn't help that after the first few times any sort of contact freaked me out. But yeah, that's basically it."

Chris and Barry just sat there and stared at him, completely at a loss for words. Edward looked unnerved by the sudden attention, once again shrinking back into himself.

Chris snapped out of it first, "S-sorry, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We're just... Surprised, I guess."

Edward raised an eyebrow, "Really? He already hated me, this shouldn't be too surprising."

Barry was still in a state of shock, just staring at his friend with a mixture of concern and anger.

Chris suddenly stood up, "That's it. I need to talk with him."

Edward looked panicked, "No way! He'll crush you!"

This didn't stop Chris who just continued towards the door, "I don't care, he's not getting away with this." and with that, the door shut and the house was silent.

Barry sighed, standing up, "I hope he doesn't get himself into too much trouble..."

Edward just kept staring at the door as if he was expecting Chris to walk back through at any moment.

Barry noticed this and sat down next to his friend (Not close enough to touch mind you), “Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Edward scoffed, trying to mask his embarrassment, “I’m not worrying! I’m just... Waiting for him to come back and tell me about how he whooped Nightmare’s ass! Yeah!” he grinned, I’m so smooth.

Barry just chuckled, leaning back into the couch, “Whatever you say buddy. Want to watch something?”

“Sure, what are you thinking?” The jock responded and instinctively glanced at the TV as it flickered on.

“We could just see what’s on. That is unless you were thinking of something specific.”

“Nah, whatever is fine.”

And just like that, Edward quickly forgot about his worries in favor of intently watching the show that came on and criticizing the acting. Barry was glad he managed to take the other’s mind off of Chris, but now it was his turn to be worried.

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

Chris rapped on the door of the Jovel house, having to keep himself from just busting it down and scouring the place for any sign of Nevin. After a bit of shuffling from inside, the door opened, revealing none other than the emo disaster himself.

He gave Chris a bored look, “You want something?”

Needless to say, the urge to punt the boy in front of him increased.

Chris took a deep breath, reminded himself that other people might see him pummel what appeared to be an emo 12 year old (Height wise), and forced a fake smile.

“Hey Nevin,” He said, his voice slightly strained, “mind coming outside so we can talk?”

After surveying his tall friend for a moment, Nevin shrugged, stepping onto the porch and shutting the door, “I don’t see why not.”

“Cool.” Chris responded simply, turning to walk down the stairs when he was pushed down.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and spun around, a short knife resembling a blood red dagger appearing out of nowhere in his hand. Nevin was still standing on the porch, a smug smirk on his face.

“You really thought I was stupid enough to fall for that?” He sneered, “You weren’t even trying to pretend like this was just gonna’ be a normal conversation.”

Chris grit his teeth, “Kinda’ hard to play nice when you learn that your friend is secretly an asshole who beats up people who didn’t even do anything.”

Nevin scowled, stepping down the stairs, “Quinton has done more than enough to deserve what I did. I even warned him.”

Chris glared at him. This is going nowhere. Guess we’re doing this the hard way. Nevin suddenly jumped forward, snapping the other out of his thoughts. Chris managed to step out of the way right as Nevin swiped at the air where he had been moments before. Black crystal like structures had formed at the tips of the dark haired boy’s fingers, effectively forming crude claws. He made another swipe and Chris barely managed to block it with the flat of his knife.

Nevin hissed, shaking his hand lightly before glaring at Chris, “I thought you were on my side Chris! Not that pompous bastard’s!”

Chris took the opportunity to go on the offensive, “That changed when you started being a jerk!” he grunted, making several slashes and stabs at his opponent.

Nevin quickly moved out of the way, “Then I hope you’re prepared for what you got yourself into!” he tried to grab the knife but cried out, an audible sizzle coming from the black liquid now coating his hands, “You little-”

Chris allowed himself a triumphant grin as Nevin reeled, holding his burned hand. His smile quickly faded however as the flow of black liquid just increased, the previously dull cyan glint in the shorter boy’s eye doubling in intensity. The liquid seemed to have a mind of its own, moving and bubbling with frantic intensity. Chris began to move back, starting to wonder why he thought this was a good idea as his once-friend gave him a hate filled glare slightly obscured by the black sludge.

“Now you really fucked up.” Nevin growled, flinging some of the sludge off his hands and exposing the now lengthened claws.

Chris swallowed, gripping his knife tightly as he willed it to grow. Oh shit. Was all he thought as the two stared each other down. Then, Nevin lunged, restarting the fight.

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

The show had been long forgotten and been reduced to background noise. Edward was splayed out on the couch, having taken it for himself in his sleep. Barry switched to one of the armchairs and was absentmindedly petting a random cat that had crawled into his lap.

The relative quiet wasn’t meant to last though.

The door burst open, startling the cat which caused it to leap off of Barry and dart off into the kitchen. As the boy was beginning to stand up to see who had barged in, his surprise guest stumbled into the living room.

“Chris?!” Barry said in shock.

The boy in question was covered in dirt, grime, and some unidentifiable black sludge with several leaves stuck to it. He had numerous bruises and scrapes along with a slight limp. All in all, he was a mess.

“Heya Barry.” Chris mumbled.

Barry immediately snapped out of his shock, “Holy- Chris go take a shower right now, you need to get all that gunk off. I’m gonna go get some bandages and anti-bacterial spray.”

Chris stood there for a moment, looking completely out of it, before nodding slowly and limping up the stairs. After a minute, the faint sound of falling water came from the upstairs bathroom. Somehow, this was more jarring than the door slamming open and woke Edward up.

“Barry...?” He called, his voice slightly hoarse.

“In here Ed!” Barry responded, eventually returning from one of the many closets with an armful of medical supplies.

Edward, who was still tired and groggy, just stared at his friend for a moment, “What’s all that for? I already told you I don’t need anything.”

“It’s for Chris.” Barry said, “He just got back. He was covered in dirt and all sorts of muck so I told him to take a shower before anything. I’m waiting for him to come back so I can patch him up.”

This obviously didn’t sit right with the school king, “He’s hurt?! What happened?”

“I don’t know but I’m assuming it’s Nevin’s fault.”

Edward scowled but before he could say anything, the water stopped and a voice came from the bathroom.

“Hey Barry!” Chris shouted, “I uh... I don’t have any extra clothes!”

Barry sighed, “Damnit, I should’ve thought of that.”

“You could give him some of my stuff I left here,” Edward suggested, “we’re close to the same size.”

“That could work.” Barry mused then called back to Chris, “Give me a minute! I’ll go get you something!”

He walked to the spare room and opened the closet, revealing Edward’s stash of spare clothes he kept there in case he slept over. After grabbing a plain T-shirt, sweatpants, and a sweater with the school emblem on it, Barry made his way up to the bathroom.

He knocked on the door, “I have some clothes that could work for you.”

After a moment Chris opened the door, only wearing a towel and looking incredibly embarrassed, “Sorry for taking your stuff, I didn’t think I’d get this messy.”

Barry waved a hand dismissively, “It’s no problem. Besides, Ed suggested I give you his spare stuff anyways so you don’t need to worry about taking my things.”

Chris only looked more embarrassed at this, “Oh my gosh, Isaac’s never going to let me live this down if he finds out.”

Barry just chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Now get dressed so I can patch you up.”

Chris nodded and took the pile of clothes, then proceeding to retreat back into the bathroom. After a minute, he came out, looking slightly flustered.

“It fits.” He mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater and avoiding eye contact.

Barry just smiled, “That’s good, now c’mon.” he grabbed the other’s hand and brought him downstairs.

At the sound of the two coming downstairs, Edward looked up from what he was doing on his phone. Upon spotting the incredibly flustered Chris, he immediately looked back down, feeling his face heat up slightly. Barry worked in silence, disinfecting and wrapping up all the scrapes and cuts Chris got from the fight. After that was done, the three sat in semi-awkward silence until Edward finally said something.

“Want to see what’s on TV?” He suggested, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.

Barry nodded, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. After a few seconds, the screen lit up and the sound of voices and quiet music issued forth. It was some sort of Spanish drama if the music and stereotypical mustaches and sombreros were any indication.

Right before Barry could change the channel, Edward reached out and stopped him, “No wait, this looks interesting.”

Barry gave him a confused look but just shrugged and set the remote aside. They all huddled on the couch, Edward on one end, Barry on the other, and Chris in the middle. It took a bit for them to understand what was happening since the episode was apparently in the middle of the season. Not to mention the fact that it took forever for them to figure out how to get English captions since Chris was the only one who could even sort of understand what they were saying. About an hour in, Edward and Chris were extremely invested, both of them immediately denying Barry’s request to find something actually good. An hour and a half later, the two were crying over a wedding scene.

Chris sniffled, tears streaming down his face, “S-she f-finally got her h-husbaaaand!” he trailed off into sobs.

Edward was too distraught to respond and just nodded aggressively, blowing his nose loudly. Barry just watched them, a look of concern on his face. When the villain crashed the wedding though, they became even more distraught. Chris leaned against Edward, hugging him for support as he cried. Edward noticeably flinched but after a moment, smiled slightly and awkwardly patted the other’s back.

“I-I-I c-can’t b-beli-ieve he dID THAT!” Chris sobbed, descending into distressed mumbling and tears.

Barry snorted and began laughing and so did Edward. Chris just weakly smacked Edward’s arm and tried to kick Barry, only succeeding in tapping the other with his foot.

“Y-you guys are mean.” He muttered, causing the other two to start snickering again.

It didn’t take long for him to pass out, having tired himself out with all the crying. It took Edward a bit to notice that there was now a deadweight leaning up against him.

“Uh, Barry?” He whispered, “There’s a problem.”

Barry looked over and upon noticing his friend’s predicament, he smiled, “Aww, that’s cute.”

Edward blushed slightly, sputtering something unintelligible, “No it’s not!” he hissed, “Now help me!”

Barry just grinned, “Nah, he looks comfortable.” his smile faltered after a moment though, “Are you uncomfortable? I’ll move him if this is making you uncomfortable.”

The jock hesitated then sighed, “No, I’m fine, I just need to move him a bit.”

He began shifting slightly, trying his hardest not to wake the other up. After moving so that he was laying on his back, he let Chris’s head fall onto his chest.

He glared at Barry who was smiling again, “Not a word.”

Barry held his hands up defensively, “Hey, I wasn’t gonna say anything.” he thought for a moment, “Actually, do you want to stay here or move to my room?”

Edward glanced at Chris, poked his head, and when the sleeping boy didn’t do anything, he nodded, “Yeah, the couch isn’t the most comfortable and one of us would probably roll off.”

“Alright.” Barry said, standing up, “You got him?”

As if on cue, Edward hoisted Chris up, holding him bridal style. He stumbled slightly at first but quickly regained his balance, shifting his sleeping load a bit before following Barry to the bedroom. They settled in, Chris in the middle again, and Barry turned off the light.

“Goodnight Ed.” He whispered.

“Night Barry.” Edward responded.

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

Chris woke up to a bright light shining onto his face and the sound of muffled talking and clanging. It took him a moment to register that he didn’t recognize the room he was in and another to begin panicking.

He shot up and instantly groaned at the sudden soreness, “Aaaooooww shit-”

He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He quickly pieced together that this must be Barry’s bedroom after remembering the events of last night. He swung his legs out of the bed (Also registering that he was still wearing Edward’s clothes) and after stretching a bit, left the room to see what was happening. He got to the bottom of the stairs and followed the noise to the kitchen. The source of the noise was Edward singing along to a random song that was playing from his phone along with Barry cooking some eggs and bacon.

“Ed I’m trying to cook-” Barry started but was cut off as Edward started singing again.

“Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah no I can't risk falling off my throne!" he sang, “La la la la la la la la love is something I don’t even know!”

Before he could stop himself, Chris slid in and started singing the next part as well, “Straight hair! Straight A’s! Straight forward, straight girl. Little Miss Perfect, that’s me!”

Edward noticed his new singing buddy and after a moment of embarrassed silence and surprise, the next verse came up and he decided to just go with it. They eventually convinced Barry to join them and they all had a sort of karaoke session before Barry finished the food. Breakfast was relatively quiet but instead of it being awkward, it was a comfortable quiet. Eventually, Chris and Edward needed to go home. Neither of them were too happy about that fact but they couldn’t just live at Barry’s house. Barry fussed over Edward for a bit, asking if he needed Barry to walk him home and if he was feeling alright. After managing to convince his friend that he was fine, Edward turned to the door.

He paused though, turning around to look at Chris, “Hey, umm...” he thought for a moment, not sure what to say, “Thanks.”

Chris just looked confused, “What for?”

Edward shrugged, “I dunno, beating up that jerk for me I guess. Figured it wasn’t right to just ignore what you did for me, so thanks.”

Chris was caught off guard, “O-oh! Oh yeah no problem, I couldn’t just let him get away with that.”

Barry jumped in, “Don’t you ‘no problem’ us, we saw what happened to you. You did more than you needed to and more.”

Chris felt his face heat up, “Oh, thank you.”

Edward patted him on the back, “No problem bud.”

After once again assuring Barry that they were both perfectly fine, Chris and Edward finally left. They waved goodbye to each other and went their separate ways, both smiling to themselves.

~~Extra~~

Chris opened the door, “Hey Isaac, come on in!”

The shorter artist walked in, glancing around, “Is your dad out?”

Chris nodded, “Yup. No need to worry about him. Now c’mon, we got a project to work on.”

Isaac groaned dramatically but followed his friend up to his room. The room was a bit messy but nothing Isaac wasn’t used to. It took them a minute to get set up and he decided to check out Chris’s room out of bored curiosity. It was pretty normal for a teenagers room, a messy desk against one of the walls, a bookshelf covered in books that were collecting dust, a sweater with the school logo on it, a couple socks on th-

Wait...

“What’s this?” He asked, picking up the sweater that had been partially hidden by a blanket.

Chris instantly froze and began panicking, “Uh- I-it’s just some sweater I got at the beginning of the school year!”

Isaac gave him a suspicious look and then glanced at the tag on the back of the collar, “Funny, cuz right here it says ‘Edward Quinton’.” he smirked, “Now what does that mean?”

At that moment, Chris wished he could sink into the floor.

#Edward Quintion #Barry Price #Chris Jackson #Isaac Beamer #Nevin Jovel #Drew Jovel #ibvs #tw fighting #tw knives #long post #Fucking FINALLY #I've been working on this for ages #Lost's writing

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amintyworld · 4 years ago

Text

Sunset - Dream SMP Drabble

WATERFALL (Part one) - SECRETS (PART 3)

A/N: Okay, I’ve decided to make this a 3-parter, so yay! Third part should be coming out later this week. Hope you all enjoy! -Minty

TW: Arguing/fighting, character death mention(?) (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

Ever since they met at the waterfall, Phil saw Sally around a lot more lately. Not to say he minded it, the girl was very nice and kind, but she fit right into his chaotic family, a little too well. He heard the normal loud crashing through the trees at nine in the morning - Techno sparred when he couldn’t sleep - as he walked downstairs for his morning coffee, yawning a bit. As he poured himself a cup, he took a second to smile as he mouthed ‘3...2...1…’, and then yelling began upstairs that made Phil’s head throb. He rubbed the spot with a sigh as he took another sip.

“STOP STARING AT ME WHEN I SLEEP, YOU WEIRDO-!”

“I’M NOT A WEIRDO, YOU’RE THE WEIRD ONE WHO KEEPS TRYING TO SLEEP IN MY BED!”

“YEAH, WELL I’M JUST TRYING TO PROTECT YOU FROM MONSTERS!”

“TOMMY, MONSTERS CAN’T GET IN HERE!”

The two boys yelled and called for their father, and Philza slowly meandered back upstairs, still half asleep, coffee cup never leaving his hand. He yawned. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Tommy keeps sleeping in MY bed,” Wilbur said harshly. “And I keep waking up to him clinging to me like some weird koala, it’s creepy!”

Tommy glared at his older brother. “Oh, I’M the creepy one?! You’re the one who I wake up to staring at me-!”

“Because you keep sleeping in my bed-!”

Before it broke out into another yelling match, Philza simply raised his hand and the two fell silent - Wilbur crossed his arms as the two brothers just looked to the floor. “Tommy, Wilbur wakes up before you, remember? He’s a light sleeper. When he wakes up and you’re holding onto him like a teddy bear, he can’t exactly move without waking you up, can he?”

Tommy’s eyes furrowed in thought. “Well, but he-”

“Wilbur,” Philza interrupted. “Tommy’s still young, he gets scared. We’re all getting used to sleeping apart, we’re all used to sleeping on the road and huddled together. He just wants to be near you because he loves you.” The two brothers looked at each other. “Now, can the two of you please move past this and try to understand each other?”

Wilbur slowly uncrossed his arms. “Do you really miss me that much?”

Tommy quickly scoffed. “Wha- no!”

“Oh.” Wilbur’s face fell.

“But,” Tommy said, crossing his arms as he stared at the floor. “I do miss hanging out with you and exploring like we used to. You and Sally are so busy now, and I get bored. So I guess, maybe, psychologically, some part of my mind just… subconsciously makes me sleep-walk over here…?”

“Aw, you DO miss me!” Wilbur said, smiling as he pulled Tommy in for a hug. Tommy struggled to get away from his strong grasp.

“I do NOT-!”

Philza smirked from the doorway at the scene, turning and walking off. “Come on down for breakfast when you’re ready-” He chuckled a bit to himself as the two began bantering again, and from the sounds of it Wilbur was trying to take a picture from the number of protests coming from Tommy. He walked downstairs to find Sally sitting at the kitchen table idly, and Philza would admit it was a weird sight, even with the amount of normal strangeness that came about in the house. “Uh, hi...?”

“Oh, hey,” Sally said, turning around a bit quickly. “You startled me.”

“I could say the same thing to you. How’d you get in here...?” He asked, confused, and trying to figure out what possible scenario let the girl wander in.

“Uh, the door was open,” Sally said. “You really need better security.”

No kidding. “Techno may have left it open. It’s kind of early, what are you doing here exactly…?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t exactly notice the time.”

“Ah, I see,” Philza said cooly, going on to lecture the teen on a proper sleeping schedule while grilling eggs on top of the furnace. The dad was surprised to learn how quickly she’d moved and set up shop in a nearby treehouse she constructed during the night.

“I’m just an expert at moving during the night, it’s the better cover for survival.”

“Smart. But not really healthy.”

“I guess, but safe is better than not in the long run, at least from my experience,” Sally said confidently,

“But you don’t have to run from anything, at least not anymore. This is the safest place to set up shop I’ve seen in miles.” Philza said matter-of-factly. “Now you finally have a home.”

“Home…” Sally repeated with a small laugh. “I haven’t heard that word in a while.”

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

“So, how’d you get that beanie?”

Wilbur sighed as he looked up at the sky, Sally next to him, both soaking wet from a splash fight they had earlier, and now decided to lay on the rocks and dry off in the sun, both of them tired. Wilbur instinctively reached up to touch the soft knitted hat in his hands, fingers fumbling through the fabric in a bit of comfort. “It was a gift... from my Mom. Or, at least, I think it was my Mom.”

Sally sounded curious. “What do you mean? Is Phil not…?”

“He is. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember, there’s no possible way he isn’t. But my Mom… I’ve never met her.” Wilbur said thoughtfully, recalling faded memories.

“Oh, so… how’d you get it if she…?”

Wilbur was quiet for a moment. “It’s not going to make any sense, it doesn’t even make much sense to me if I’m honest. It’s weird anyway-”

“Wil,” Sally said, giving him a comforting smile. “It’s okay. What’s the point of life if everything made sense?” Wilbur couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh?”

“Never.”

The teen took a breath. “The first thing I remember was a voice talking to me. I couldn’t see anything, it was so dark. The voice said it was my Mom, and that her name was Sam. Anyway, for a long time, I couldn’t see anything, but I wasn’t ever really worried. I felt safe as long as my Mom was there, you know? When it got colder she gave me the beanie and my old green sweater, and I know it sounds weird, but with the warmth - it felt like a hug, almost. That’s why I really love my beanie so much, it reminds me of her and her hugs. It’s like even if she isn’t here, she’s here. I miss her a lot, and-”

Sally pulled Wilbur in for a tight comforting hug as Wilbur’s voice hitched. A few tears slid down his cheeks as he returned it, and he mumbled a few ‘thank you’s before continuing.

“One day, she told me that she had to go, that I was going to go be with my Dad and everything was going to be alright. A door opened, and there was Phil. He pulled me close to him, and I remember hearing fizzing... smelling smoke, but he didn’t let me look back. He just grabbed me and left.”

“That must’ve been hard.” Sally said. “Do you ever talk to Philza about it?”

“Sometimes.” Wilbur said honestly. “Other times I feel like it’s something that he just wants to forget and move on from, and from the way he talks about it, I can’t blame him.”

“No wonder that beanie means so much to you.” Sally breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry and bring it up if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no.” Wilbur waved off. “It’s nice to talk about it with someone other than Dad.” He turned to face Sally. “What about you? Anything you keep that means the world to you?”

“No. The way I live, or used to live, only had room for the essentials and nothing else. Putting so much value in an object like that, would only lead to disaster waiting to happen.” Sally said simply. “There’s no use in getting attached to anything when you could lose it.”

“That sounds lonely.” Wilbur said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but that’s surviving.” Sally sighed, laughing a bit bitterly as she sat up. “Stupid logic, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, it’s not.” Wilbur retorted, sitting up as well. His mind wanted to ask who she was running from, but it seemed like she didn’t really want to talk about it right now. He gave her a comforting joking smile. “I bet you had the biggest emo phase-”

Sally’s face lit up in a grin and Wilbur felt his stomach begin to flutter uncharacteristically, a knot forming in his throat as she snorted slightly, playfully swatting. “Yeah, as if you didn’t go full emo - I’ve seen your poetry.”

“How’d you-?!”

“Your brothers know how to get a hold of blackmail like nobody’s business.” She snickered, and Wilbur cursed under his breath. “Awe, come on, I thought it was cute-”

“Cute…?” Wilbur repeated, and the unfamiliar fluttering feeling in his stomach grew more intense.

Sally laughed. “Yeah, like a little hissing kitten-!” The two friends burst out laughing, Wilbur feeling lighter, happier, but also extremely confused.

“Come on you two, dinner!”

“Coming!” Sally called, smirking. “Beanie Boy’s just embarrassed-!”

Beanie boy?

Wilbur could definitely feel the unmistakeable tingling feeling in his stomach as they began to race back to the house for dinner.

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

Wilbur paced in his room as Techno intently listened, pausing to talk and get a word in before quickly realizing he had to wait until his younger brother stopped ranting. He focused on twiddling with his dagger as he listened, sitting on the bed facing a distressed and confused Wilbur,

“And, AND it just keeps getting worse, every time she smiles or laughs I feel like, really, really warm and I don’t know what’s going on because this has never happened before and I can’t talk to her about it because she’ll think I’m weird and I don’t want her to stop being my friend because she’s the only real friend I’ve ever had, and things would be so awkward but I just can’t stop feeling like this and it’s driving me crazy and I just want it to stop-”

Techno let out a breath as he sharpened a stick, not looking up. “Are you done?”

“Y-yes. I think.” Wilbur said as he tapped his foot to release some nervous energy.

“Have you considered, and stop me at any time,” Techno said calmly. “That you might like her more than just a friend?”

Wilbur’s voice was soft and filled with nervousness. “What… what do you mean?”

“Like,” Techno sighed. “Like you want her to be your girlfriend…?” At the mention of girlfriend, Wilbur turned red as a tomato, his mind racing. Did he want that? His mind imagined her snuggling close to him, holding her hand and leaning in to kiss her on the lips-

Wilbur’s face turned redder as he ran his hands through his hair quickly, trying to breathe with the large knot stuck in his throat. Technoblade smirked as he chuckled softly, looking back down at his work.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

“Y-yes.” Wilbur managed to stutter, giving his brother a nervous smile. Suddenly, Techno’s ears perked up at quiet giggling outside in the hallway, and with a soft throw, he threw the sharpened stick hard against the wall next to the doorway, earning a loud yelp from the other side as Tommy appeared, angry.

“Aw, I missed.” Technobalde said, feigning disappointment.

“You almost stabbed me!” Tommy yelled, but Technoblade glared down at him, making Tommy’s protests quickly quiet.

“And you were eavesdropping on me and Wil.” Techno walked up to the younger, retrieving the stick and talking scarily calm. “Eavesdropping spies get stabbed, them’s the rules.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was… listening.” Tommy defended. “Anyway, i was just trying to help my poor older brother with his ‘woman problems’.”

Wilbur smiled, his nerves beginning to fade away as his mind got distracted. “Yeah, what do you think I should do, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest puffed out with confidence as he strolled over to the bed where Wilbur sat. “Now, Wilbur, in my many years of experience and research on women, I know exactly what you gotta do - you walk up and ask her who her favorite woman is. If she says anything other than the Queen, she’s not real.”

Techno and Wilbur burst out laughing, and Tommy smiled. “As much as I appreciate your advice, I don’t think Sally would like that very much. It’s gotta be romantic.”

Techno’s eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna confess to her…?”

Wilbur pushed down the nervous knot in his throat thickly. “Ye...yeah! It’s better to get everything out in the air, right? Whatever happens, happens. If...if she says no, at least I was honest.”

Techno’s warm smile met Wilbur’s nervous one as he sat down next to his brothers, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And if she says yes…?”

A flicker of hope glimmered in Wilbur’s chest. If she says yes… His cheeks turned rosy as he took a deep breath. “If she says yes, I think I’ll faint.” He stated as he flopped backwards on the bed, trying to hide his lovestruck gaze and goofy smile at the thought.

“So, it seems we’ve got a date to plan.” Technoblade said as Tommy looked over at his flustered older brother, smiling.

“I knew she was your girlfriend-!”

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

Wilbur took a deep breath as he walked to meet up with Sally by the waterfall, wearing his nice yellow sweater and signature red beanie, carrying a few sweets he knew she liked from town. As he sat and set up the blanket on a rock overlooking the entire forest, a salmon leaped out of the water, shifting in the air and landing gracefully on the rocks, was Sally - her body and strawberry blonde locks dripping wet. “What’s all this…?”

“I have something I want to show you.” Wilbur smiled. “The perfect view of the sunset.”

“Sunset…?” Sally repeated, looking down at the picnic blanket and few torches lighting the area, the sun about to sink over the horizon.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something special. I thought ‘what’s the perfect gift for a girl who’s seen everything?’ and I just knew ‘The things she hadn’t been allowed to stop and notice’.”

She sat down quietly, looking in wonder as the sun sank lower, turning the sky an array of breathtaking pinkish purples. “It’s beautiful. How’d you know I-?”

“Lucky guess, maybe a hunch?” Wilbur laughed, his heartbeat in his ears as Sally looked to the sunset in pure awe, the smile on her face the brightest he’d ever seen.

“I can’t believe all of this was just out of view, the entire time.” Sally breathed, looking relaxed and content as a cool breeze blew through her hair. Suddenly, Wilbur noticed a fluffy tail, and were those… ears…?

“Uh, are you shifting, or…?”

Sally went red as she realized what was going on, scrambling to hide her ears and squish them back in her head to no avail. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing-! D-don’t look, okay?! You weren’t meant to-”

“No no, they’re cute!” Wilbur said before he chastised himself for calling her cute.

“They don’t… freak you out at all?”

“No, not really.” Wilbur responded. “I just can’t believe you hid them for this long, how did you even hide something like this-?!”

“It’s painful, but it’s safe. Animal ears and tail are telltale signs of a shifter. While people were chasing me, I had to blend into the crowd so I forcefully shifted them away. It’s exhausting and can hurt me a bit if I’m not careful, but it’s safe.”

“But, you’re not running anymore.”

“I thought you guys would think I’m weird. I wanted to show you, I did, but I just kept putting it off and making excuses so I wouldn’t have to admit I kept it from you at all.”

“You don’t have to hide from me, or anyone else here, I promise, we won’t judge.”

“Thank you.” Sally said. “For this, for giving me a place to be, for being so accepting.”

“Of course.”

Sally yawned a bit and leaned closer to Wilbur’s side, which made his heart leap to his throat as she started out at the sunset, beginning to purr a bit in content, which made Wilbur’s heart flutter. “You know, I’ve heard that the sunset looks like pink lemonade, but it looks more raspberry to me.”

“Raspberry lemonade?”

“Hm, that would taste good.” Sally murmured sleepily, letting out a laugh. “Sorry, all the exhaustion is hitting me, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.” His hands brushed over her ears amazed at how soft they were. He looked down at Sally, his heart seizing at the sight as the sunset’s glow radiated off her face, and he felt a heat flush his face at the sight as his heart beat loud in his ears. Sweat gathered at the back of his neck as he tapped his fingers nervously on his thigh, seeing the sun almost completely set.

It’s now or never. Don’t chicken out now.

He cleared his throat nervously as he scratched behind his neck. “So uh, I actually wanted to tell you something, something kind of important.”

“Yeah…?”

“I’ve actually been trying to find the right time to tell you for weeks now, looking back it seems kind of obvious and I don’t know how you never noticed, it’s kinda funny really-” Wilbur rambled, dancing around what he needed to say, not knowing if he really had enough courage to say it, could he even say it?

“Wil.” Wilbur looked down to notice Sally’s concerned gaze. “You’re shaking, are you okay?” Her hand squeezed his, and Wilbur’s nerves rose as any words he had began to die in his throat.

“I...I…”

“It’s okay, we’re friends. You can talk to me about anything and everything, okay? I won’t judge.” Her strawberry blonde hair swayed in the breeze as she talked softly and calmly, her usual cocky grin replaced with one that showed pure care. In that moment, Wilbur realized just how scared he was of losing that, of losing being with her and seeing her smile every day. What he was going to say was going to change everything, it was going to risk it all. Wilbur didn’t know if he was willing to risk it, risk losing her.

His mind told him no, told him to back down, that she didn’t like him like he liked her, and that he was going to lose her forever, that she’d hate him. That when he told her she was going to walk out of his life for good and leave him behind drowning in heartache. His heart whispered something else - maybe it was in her face or the way she gripped his hand just enough, or the way she laughed, the way she cared so much about him that it felt… it felt like…

...Love.

His body trembled in nervous fright as his hand rose up to scratch her ears softly, trailing down her face to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear just so, and softly cupped her cheek. The world around the two turned silent as Wilbur’s heart hammered in his chest. “I love you, Sally.”

Sally’s cheeks tinted pink at Wilbur’s words, before turning to a smile and she began giggling. Wilbur’s expression lowered for a moment. She’s laughing at me…

Then, suddenly he was pulled by his yellow sweater to crash their lips together, the movement unstable as they both fell off the rock and crashed into the river below. Though he was falling, Wilbur felt like he was on Cloud Nine. They both crawled into the beach, giddly giggling as their faces flushed with excitement. Wilbur pulled Sally in close and kissed her again, his heart drumming along as the tight nerves in his stomach finally faded. The shifter wrapped her arms around his neck as the two savored the moment, the moon rising behind them.

When they pulled apart for air, Wilbur smirked. “An ‘I love you too’ would’ve been fine-”

“Shut up, Beanie Boy. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” Sally’s cheeks flushed as Wilbur gently took her hand in his.

“Well, we can do it again...” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, as Sally’s face got redder. “My salmon.”

Needless to say, they kissed more than a few times that night.

#young sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc #dream smp #dream smp drabble #sally the salmon #wilbur x sally #dream smp fic #my writing #wilbur soot #philza #tommyinnit #technoblade

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