#these last couple of days have been pretty tough and (not to sound creepy but) it feels like you're tucking me in to sleep with this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunjaesol · 3 years

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“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

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“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

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#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

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the struggle bus

summary: spencer is the kindest human alive, which makes things tough for the reader :/ (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 5.3k (a doozy kinda!)

warnings: i guess angst, but really just idiots in love (my fav trope). reader is kind of a hot mess. also, mention of overdose via multivitamin.

author’s note: hi, it’s been approx 4000 years since i last posted, but it’s just because i have no concept of ‘efficiency’ or ‘speed.’ but it’s okay. some of this is good, some of this is eh, make of that what you will. also, this is supposed to be #funny sometimes so uhhhh, keep that in mind. ALSO, the title is majorly stupid, but it was the title of the google doc, and i couldn’t think of anything else......anyways, love u!

For once, the bullpen was quiet.

Spencer was immersed in some case file, doing some work that you should have probably been doing as well, but it was approaching the late hours of the night, and you would barely be able to keep your eyes open if you came even close to trying to read or write. Your desks were situated against each other, so you shifted your gaze across the small divider to him. His sharp features were softened in the lamplight, a sight that tugged on your heartstrings, and you took a moment to just look at him. Most everyone else was gone or was too focused on getting their work done to pay attention to your reverie. Derek, if he were here, would dub you as ‘lovesick’ and shoot mischievous smirks and wiggling eyebrows in your direction, but luckily for you, he was not. Twisting carelessly in your chair with your feet propped on the desk, you chewed absentmindedly on a pen, lost deep in thought. “Hey, Spencer?”

“Yeah?” He continued scribbling on the file without so much as a glance towards you, but that was perfectly fine by you, more time for not-creepy staring.

“How many of my vitamins do you think I could eat before I died?”

At this, he furrowed his brow and neatly laid his pen down.

“That depends on what vitamin you’re taking. If you’re talking about iron supplements, the limit is somewhere around 20mg of elemental iron per kilogram of body weight. Any more than that will have incredibly unpleasant side effects like abdominal pain, persistent vomiting, rapid breathing, and coma. However, if you’re talking about Vitamin C, it’s virtually impossible to overdose, but you might get a bad headache if you supersede 2000 mg.”

“Okay, what about my gummy vitamins?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “While it still depends on what vitamins are included, eating a whole bottle of your typical multivitamin could easily result in death.”

You mulled this over. “So, I should definitely not go home and eat the rest of my gummy vitamins tonight?”

Spencer chuckled, “I’m not a medical doctor, but yes, I’d recommend that you don’t do that.”

Tossing your head back and letting out a small groan, you protested, “But Spencer, my gummy vitamins taste so good! And I have no food at home, so I guess I either die by overdose on gummy multivitamins or starvation.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your melodrama. It could be 12:06 in the morning, and you could still somehow make him laugh. He was starting to understand that he was in too deep, but he also had the startling realization that he didn’t mind drowning if it was in you.

“You’ve got quite the predicament on your hands there, (Y/N). Maybe you should go grocery shopping with me the next time I suggest it, so you don’t end up in this situation again.”

“Oh my god, dude!” you moaned. “I told you I was actually busy; I had to take Oscar to the vet for his vaccines! I try to be a good mother to my dog, and you know I’m not an anti-vaxxer. I’d never decline time with my favorite guy without a good reason.”

Spencer’s heart was doing somersaults at the thought of him being your favorite guy. He’d won plenty of awards and medals in his lifetime, but somehow, none of those measured up to the accomplishment of being your favorite. Pride and butterflies boiled in his stomach.

“Alright, fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You snorted, “I appreciate your unmatched benevolence, Dr. Reid.” Locking eyes with him, you tried to dampen the lava flow of heat in your chest that erupted when he looked at you with the softest expression you’d ever seen, but you failed miserably. You had to clear your throat and look away; it was becoming all too much. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the restroom. Don’t leave without me!”

As you dashed away, a thought crossed Spencer’s mind, and he stood up and set off down the opposite hallway.

You returned a few minutes later to an empty bullpen which made you frown, and your heart sank. You had thought he was going to wait, but guess not. Sighing, you tried to not let it sting too badly when you noticed a light on in JJ’s office. You knocked and pushed the already ajar door with a quick hello? before being met with an exhausted-looking JJ.

“Hey, (Y/N). I thought everyone had left by now.”

“Nope, not quite yet,” you replied, offering a weak smile. JJ noticed and wrote it off as fatigue. “You didn’t happen to see Spencer leave a couple minutes ago, did you?”

“Uh, no, I thought he’d gone too.”

“Hm, okay, thanks anyway!”

You prepared to leave, but she stopped you, cocking her head. “Why do you ask? Is he still here?”

Leaning your head against the doorframe, you sighed. “I’m not sure. He was here when I went to the bathroom, but he wasn’t at his desk when I came back. I’m a little disappointed. We always walk out together because we’re both afraid of the parking garage at night.”

A grin simmered on JJ’s face at that fact. “Well, I could walk you out if you’d like?”

“Nah, that’s okay; I don’t want to bother you.”

There was something behind JJ’s eyes you couldn’t identify as she replied, “Alright, then. Just let me know if you change your mind.” She definitely wasn’t thinking about how you didn’t want her intruding on a you-and-Spencer tradition. Not that she minded! She’d been rooting for you both since the minute you’d stepped into the BAU, and Spencer had looked like he was about ready to melt into the floor at the sight of such a pretty girl.

“Thanks, Jayje.”

Dragging your feet a little, you made your way back to your desk to gather your things, trying to fend off the disappointment. You had gotten your jacket on and were about to pick up your bag when you heard a (Y/N)! from down the hall. Well, that was certainly not JJ. Hesitantly, you called out, “Spencer?”

He finally emerged with his arms loaded with...something, you couldn’t discern what in the dim light. His face lit up like the Vegas strip when he saw you. “(Y/N)! I didn’t want you starving or eating all of your vitamins, so I went down to the vending machine and got you a couple snacks!” Arriving at his desk, he dropped the various bags and packets on his desk, and your eyes widened immensely.

“A couple? Dude, did you buy out the whole machine?”

Slightly breathless from his quick jog back, he waved a dismissive hand. “It was nothing. And hey, look!” He picked up a bag. “Fruit snacks! Just like your vitamins, but without the part where you get really sick.”

You were astonished, to say the least. And minorly speechless too, as evidenced by your mouth that was gaping like a fish. “Spencer...this is so nice. You really didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me.”

At that, your face nearly split in two, and he mirrored your grin. You thought you might pass out at his kindness, and you knew you’d be thinking about this every day for the next two weeks at least. Your expression then turned mischievous, as you tried to tamp down all of the warmth bubbling in your stomach. “Do you want to help me try to fit all this in my bag?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

———

Garcia had been practicing her ukulele peacefully when she got the call. (Well, ‘peacefully’ might have been a stretch as she had threatened to smash the object on her coffee table when she simply could not get the finger picking pattern she’d practiced for what seemed like hours, but it was supposed to be a relaxing hobby, so yes, it was peaceful.) Huffing a sigh of relief when the caller ID said [(Y/N/N)!!] with the longest stream of heart emojis and not [hotch >:( ], she picked up with her usual air of cheer. “What can I do ya for, my loveliest, most bewitching—”

She was cut off abruptly by the sounds of your horrible, heart-wrenching sobs, and her brows furrowed in concern. “Oh no, my sweet! What’s wrong?” She had to wait a few moments for your tears to calm (somewhat) while you tried to wrangle in your breath, so you could form some sort of sentence.

“Penny!”—gasp—“Oh my God,”—hiccup—“it looks so bad!” With your last word, you tumbled into incoherent bawling once again.

“Dear, what looks so bad?” She held her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she began to gather up her things. Whatever was wrong, it was clear you needed some good, old-fashioned Garcia TLC, and she was ready to give it.

The sniffling subsided minorly, and you choked out, “Remember when we were talking the other day, and I mentioned that my hair had gotten a little too long for my liking?” Oh no, Garcia could see where this was going. “Well, I figured I’d spend our evening off getting my hair cut, and I went to that new hairdresser, and oh Penelope, it looks awful. I don’t think I can ever go out in public again.” With that, your tears resumed.

“Darling, you know I’ve been where you are, and I know it seems bad right now, but everything will be fine. Let me grab my scissors and I’ll be over faster than you can say, ‘Penny, I love you so much, you truly are my fairy godmother.’”

You paused before whispering into the phone, “Penelope, I do love you so much, and you are my fairy godmother. But please, hurry.”

And hurry, she did.

Garcia was knocking on your door a little over five minutes later, which was incredibly suspicious because she lived at least 10 minutes away on a good day, but in the state of your disarray, you were not inclined to care. She sat you down on the toilet in your bathroom, whipping out her hair care set (she had definitely spent a significant amount of time dabbling in cosmetology, and it was desperate times like this when it came in handy). Squeezing your eyes shut through most of it, she snipped here and there, trying to make the best of this...horribly atrocious cut (seriously, that hairdresser should be sued), and when she was finished, it was not as bad as when they started, but it still wasn’t great. The rest of the evening was spent watching cheesy rom-coms and baking in an attempt to get your mind off of your hair.

Everything was mostly fine until the next morning, when you realized you’d have to go into work like this, and as terrifying as that prospect was in a normal work environment, you also worked in a place with an abnormal amount of hot people. (And you happened to be developing feelings for one of those hot people, but your brain was insistent upon ignoring that for the time being.)

Already anticipating your worries, Penelope had sent a text without your knowledge to a BAU group chat that excluded you (she had one of these for every member, it just made surprise birthday party planning so much easier).

[penelope :)] please DO NOT MENTION (Y/N)’S HAIR!!!! she got a bad haircut and she feels really terrible about it and doesn’t want to think about it so do not talk about it!!!

[jennifer!] Oh, no! :( Lips are sealed!

[rossi ;)] rip.

Emerging from the elevator in the nicest work outfit you own (an attempt to distract from the monstrosity), you scurried to Garcia’s lair before anyone could see you. Once inside, you slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, you slid down and covered your face with the files in your hands. “Pennyyyyy,” you moaned. “I don’t think I can do this!”

She swiveled to face you with a look of empathy. “Sugar, I know you can. It—it doesn’t even look that bad!” But Garcia was a horrible liar, and if looks could kill, she would have been dead instantaneously.

Heaving yourself up off the floor, you came to sit in the seat next to her. “Can’t I just work in here today? And maybe for the rest of time?”

“You know I would love that, but those other lovely people on our team need you! Especially the young doctor, you know he’d be lonely without you.”

As if her mention had summoned him, Reid opened the door to their secret meeting, files in hand, and your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. Garcia stared at him very intensely, attempting to telepathically tell him to not mention the hair, and you looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to figure out a way to hide yourself from him and possibly the entire universe. And poor Reid shifted his gaze between the two of you, helplessly confused as to what he had walked into. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, no!” Garcia said in the least convincing manner.

“Okay,” he responded, not convinced in the slightest. “I just came to give you some files from Hotch.” So, he handed Garcia the papers and then turned to leave when you caught his eye.

And because he was not the greatest with technology, Spencer had not checked his phone that morning…. Meaning he had not seen Garcia’s text. So he looked at you a moment and cocked his head. “Your hair looks really nice today, (Y/N). Did you get it cut?”

This time, it was Garcia’s turn to glare (because read your texts, dammit!), and you fumbled for a response. As you scanned his face, searching for a sign that he was lying, that he was just saying something to make you feel better, you came up empty. He was telling the truth. He genuinely thought your hair looked nice. “Um, uh—yeah. Yeah, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

“You’re welcome.” He offered you a smile, which you returned easily (a fact that surprised you). “See you.” Retreating from the office because the vibes in there were weird, he shut the door, finally leaving you and Garcia alone again.

You were reeling.

You thought about when you had gotten dressed that morning, and you had entertained each outfit with great scrutiny, trying to come up with something that might draw attention away from your hair. In that half hour you’d spent, you had realized that you didn’t really mind looking bad in front of Morgan or Emily or Hotch or really anyone on the team. Almost anyone. With an increasing amount of discomfort, you had realized you didn't want to look bad in front of Spencer. Of course, he’d never judge you, but you wanted to look good for him. For your best friend.

And he told you your hair looked nice.

You smiled to yourself.

Garcia turned to you with a look of shock on her face. Had that been anyone else, she was sure you would have curled up in a ball beneath her desk and would not have left until every single other person had left the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but you hadn’t, and she smirked.

Oh, she knew where this was going.

———

To put it lightly, it had not been the best of mornings.

It seemed that everything that could’ve gone wrong did, so you burst past the glass doors of the BAU six minutes late with a coffee-covered shirt, mud-stained pants, soggy shoes, and a most miserable attitude. Hotch, while a sympathetic man, was still your boss with rules to follow and when you stumbled into the bullpen, gave a pointed stare between you and the clock, and you nodded sullenly. You understood his silent admonition, but knowing that he was even slightly disappointed in you, made your knees want to buckle. Swallowing around the slug in your throat, you set your bag down beside your chair and noticed a foreign object sitting on your desk. Interest thoroughly piqued, you reached forward to find it was a book with a satin ribbon tied on it.

It truly was a beautiful book with a deep crimson hardcover and the kind of deckled edges that you loved. Running your fingers along the rough-hewn pages, you finally noted the title, and you gasped. Beloved by Toni Morrison. Your favorite. The cursive words curved in black on the cover to match the ribbon, and you carefully traced the curling letters, wondering where this gorgeous book could have come from.

In the desk across from yours, Spencer watched the scene in front of him with a grin. He couldn’t help but feel pleased at the look of awe on your face as you inspected the book with careful fingers and a gentle gaze, and his heart swelled more and more the longer he looked. “Did you know that Margaret Garner, the woman the character Sethe is based on, her trial was used as part of an effort to dismantle the Fugitive Slave Act?” Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and those stupid freaking butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach as you realized who had gifted you the book. “The presiding judge didn’t accept her lawyer’s argument that the act violated the right to religious freedom, but it was still somewhat of a turning point in the movement to strike down the law.”

“I did not know that, but thank you. For the fact and the book.”

“You’re welcome.” He had to avert his eyes from your strong gaze because he thought he might melt otherwise.

“Please don’t misinterpret this as me being ungrateful because I’m so, so thankful, but why?”

He shrugged, “I was just in the book store, and it made me think of you.” No, he didn’t keep an eye out specifically for this book on his weekly trip to the bookstore by his apartment after you had briefly mentioned your love of Ms. Morrison’s metaphors. And he definitely didn’t ask the owner Alice if she would let him know if she ever got any new copies.

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Combing back through your conversations with him, you tried to remember when you had talked about the book, but you couldn’t come up with anything other than a couple words tossed briefly here and there. Suppose it wasn’t really the fact that he had heard, but the fact that he had listened. He listened and remembered things about you, little things tucked in the back of his brain, and it was how he thought about you even when you weren’t around. So, you clutched the book to your chest tightly as if it could meld with your heart and let your thoughts rage with the implications for a minute before smothering your mushy grin and tucking the book into your bag.

(Later, you pulled it out on your ride home on the metro. Spencer had already gotten off at his stop a few minutes before, so you took this moment of solitude to revel in the glory of your new gift. Every time you smoothed a hand over the cover, your mind was overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if he felt the same? What if his stomach rumbled with the same butterflies when you looked at him? What if this means he likes you as more than…. And abruptly, you were doused in doubt once again, muzzling those dangerous, rearing hypotheticals. This was a path that would only lead to disappointment.

Those thoughts only got worse when you read his inscription, though:

Dear (Y/N/N),

I hope you find great joy in reacquainting yourself with the graces of Ms. Morrison’s elegant prose in this new copy. I was inspired by your praise and read this classic again, and I can say that I definitely understand your veneration of her story-telling. Hopefully, we can discuss it soon, so I can try to see all of the details that you so admire. You are always much better at appreciating the finer things in life.

She says that, “something that is loved is never lost.”

I hope you know that you will never be lost to me.

Sincerely,

Spencer

(P.S. I wrote this in pencil, so you can erase and have the clean copy you wanted.)

You would never erase it.)

———

“Hey, are you alright?”

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands. Your responding “no” came out muffled.

Spencer frowned and sat on the edge of your desk. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Running your hands over your face, you finally met his gaze. His eyes were soft as they searched your own, and the expression on his face was not of pity or frustration but empathy, and of course, he was just being his sweet self. Your eyes watered in response, and his heart clenched at the sight. You shifted your eyes somewhere else, anywhere else. “Uh, no.”

It was clearly a lie.

Furrowing his brows at your obfuscation, he scanned your face for any indication of what might be the problem. A small sigh. He came up with nothing. “Alright,” he conceded hesitantly. “May I ask what is wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

You stared down at the files neatly ordered on your desk, trying to mentally shoo him away with the sheer force of your willpower alone. But Spencer Reid was a stubborn man, and you knew this, and you also knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were alright. So, you both sat in the silence of the bullpen that only accompanied the arrival of midnight. The glow of your lamp bathed the vicinity in a warm yellow, and the tick of the nearby clock rattled around your chest as you attempted fruitlessly to subdue your incessant thoughts. He was close enough that you could hear the soft susurration of his exhales as his eyes flitted about the room to give you some sort of breathing room, and you shut yours for a moment to appreciate this moment of peace before the inevitable catastrophe to follow.

“I’m—uh, not okay.”

Finally turning back to you with a mildly surprised expression (he didn’t expect you to say anything so soon. Or so bluntly.), he offered you one of his signature tight-lipped smiles as encouragement to continue.

“I’m kind of really struggling…” you trailed off, gaze empty, ensnared in your thoughts.

Ever the gentleman with persistence that could last a thousand years, he gently prompted, “With…?”

A strong gulp and eyes squeezed shut. “With you.”

Well, that was not the answer Spencer was expecting. He felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and he was hollow and shaken and in pain. Gaping, he fumbled hopelessly for an answer, trying to find some reason you could be upset with him. He had always thought you two were the best of friends; he’d never doubted that before. How could he have missed this?

Swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, he strained to ask, “Uh—um, what—what did I do?”

Upon witnessing his struggle, you quickly amended your previous statement. “No, no, no, no, no! I’m not mad at you, well, I kind of am, but you don’t need to feel bad, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m not really sure what to make of that.”

You huffed a sigh and covered your face with your hands in a poor attempt to try to hide the blush rapidly coloring your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just—you’re so nice!”

Now Spencer was really confused. “You’re mad at me...because you think I’m nice?”

“Yes, Spencer! You’re so nice, and it makes me incredibly frustrated. You see this?” You picked up a book from your desk and waved it frantically. A little intimidated by your crazed look, he nodded timidly. “Do you recognize this book?”

“It’s a special edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison.”

“It’s the special edition of my favorite book that you bought for me because you know how much I love this book.”

Spencer looked like a deer in the headlights. “You always said that your book at home was so messy with your annotations and that a fresh copy would have been nice.”

“You didn’t even buy it for my birthday or a special occasion! You just saw it in the store and said that you thought of me and had to buy it. That’s so unbelievably thoughtful! Not to mention the fact that I can barely look at fruit snacks now without tearing up. And—and the other day! When I got my haircut, I hated it, but I came in the next day, and you were the first person to tell me you liked it. You weren’t even lying to make me feel better; I’m a profiler, and I know that you were telling the truth. And it took no effort or thought because Spencer, you are the most kind-hearted and compassionate and generous person I’ve ever met. You are so—so genuinely good.

“No, you are the best. You are the best person I know,” you stated with finality, holding his stare with an unshakeable firmness. It was the first time you truly looked at him all night, and his heart felt like it was going to expand past his ribcage and burst open like a balloon. Your resolve melted though and your voice dropped to a near whisper. “And you’re not just nice. You’re nice to me. Which just makes it so hard.”

You deflated, withering into your seat.

“Makes what hard?”

“It makes it so much harder for me to not fall in love with you.”

Stunned silence.

Until it was shattered by a hiccup, and Spencer finally noticed the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, and he tried, he tried so hard to puzzle through all of this new information and the fact that you just admitted you’re falling in love with him, and for some reason, you’re crying? He couldn’t even get his stupid genius brain to come with a single word before you started stumbling into an apology. “I know that’s not what you want to hear because we’re supposed to be friends, and I know that you’re just a good person, so you’re nice to everyone. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t keep holding on to this by myself, and I knew if anyone would let me down easy, it’d be you.” You chewed on your lip and avoided his stare at all costs. “So, I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

The quiet that followed weighed heavy on your chest, and you couldn’t seem to breathe. You had expected rejection; you hadn’t expected complete silence. And this was somehow so much more unbearable. In a voice so faint you weren’t even sure if he could hear, you begged, “Please say something.”

A beat.

“(Y/N), I love you.”

A whisper just barely verging on hopeful, “What?”

“(Y/N), I—I love you so much.” His heart felt like it was in his throat, and his voice broke slightly as he stood. “You’re the first person I think about when I get up in the morning, and you’re the last person before I fall asleep. I dread going home at the end of the day because you’re not there. When you’re not with me, even if you’re in the other room, it feels like I’ve forgotten something, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out what I was missing, but it was you. You consume my every thought, which is saying something because I think a lot. Actually, it’s kind of funny,” he chuckled somewhat morosely, “I truly cannot comprehend the fact that you don’t know how much I’ve liked you, how long I’ve loved you because it feels like it’s so obvious and so potent that it seeps out of me, whether I want it to or not.

“And I’m nice to you because no one else is more deserving of kindness. I’d be lucky if you let me be the one to remind you of that, everyday. Because you’re the best person I know.” You looked up at him with shining eyes and the meagerest beginnings of a smile, and he just beamed right back. With a creased brow, he ventured, “You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that, right?

Failing to suppress your growing grin, you nodded your head meekly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.”

Spencer felt pleased with himself until he remembered that he had forgotten the most important part. “Would you like to get dinner with me sometime? Like a date?”

Standing from your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck and burrowed your face into his chest, and he immediately reciprocated, clutching you as close as he could. “I would love that.” It came out muffled, but he understood well enough as he pressed his face into your neck. And you stood like that for a few moments, just existing together, and for the first time in a long time, nothing hurt. There was no worry of unrequited yearning or pain of terrible pining; there were just two people who finally knew peace. Knew that the person they loved most in the world loved them back. Neither ever wanted to leave.

However, sometimes necessary duties like breathing take precedence, so you pulled back from him enough to finally claim some air. Your hands slid down his front, resting on his chest, his on your waist, and you just stared at him. The most beautiful face you’d ever seen looking right back at you with the same expression of awe that made you realize just how lucky you were. And slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned in ever so slightly with heads wavering and tension buzzing. Gingerly and sweetly. Neither could commit, but no one could pull away from fast-approaching revelation.

Finally, a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

When your lips met, your chest heaved with your eager, romantic hopes and dreams bubbling up near your lungs, finally coming to fruition. His hands came up to caress your jaw, and you leaned into him. His touch was so gentle, but he also touched you with intention. For once in his life, Spencer Reid felt no hesitation, kissing the girl of his dreams. And you felt held by him. You were bursting at the seams of your existence, swollen with infatuation and tenderness, yet totally and completely encompassed by him. You could shatter into a million tiny, little pieces, and he would be there to collect every shard. How cheesy.

Both of you grinned into the kiss; the sickly sweet itch in your heart was contagious. You finally released him, and wanting to savor the moment, you tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, so his chin could rest on the crown of your head. “I love you a lot, Dr. Reid.”

He hummed in agreement.

It didn’t need saying.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #i hope yall see that the sentences that are syntactically similar and the parallel settings are intentional and are like stupid attempts at #motifs and that im not a stupid person :/#also #lol wtf was that ending #anyways #yo this may or may not be based on problems i be having irl #i just fall in love with anyone who is remotely kind to me #lmao #anyone else desperate for affection?? gang??#also r there any toni stans out there i luv my queen #is anyone out there? i just want friends ahh #ALSO DOES ANYONE ELSE HAVE THE OVERWHELMING URGE TO DEVOUR THEIR GUMMY VITAMINS????? IS THAT JUST ME????

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'Loki' Star Sophia Di Martino on the Season 1 Finale, Working With Jonathan Majors and What She Knows About Season 2

[Editor's note: The following contains spoilers through the Season 1 finale of Loki, "For All Time. Always."]

Since her introduction at the end of Episode 2, Sophia Di Martino's depiction of Sylvie, the female variant of Loki introduced midway through her campaign of vengeance against the TVA, has been a defining aspect of Disney+'s Loki. And, as we learned in the season finale, the story of Loki isn't over yet — though what's in store is pretty nebulous, following Sylvie's betrayal of Loki (Tom Hiddleston) after what was their first and what might be their last kiss.

In a one-on-one conversation with Di Martino via Zoom, Collider asked about working with Jonathan Majors in his MCU debut, what it was like having both fight scenes and more romantic scenes with Hiddleston, and of course what the conversations around Season 2 have been like.

Collider: To start off, when did you have a sense that there would be a second season of Loki?

DI MARTINO: I mean, there'd been rumors for a while, but I still haven't heard officially if it's happening, like officially, officially. I only know what I know through reading the news. And I know, because you guys know, because of the tag at the end of Episode 6.

I was going to say, that feels like a pretty official thing, but it doesn't sound like anyone has shown up at your doorstep with paperwork.

DI MARTINO: No, nothing. Nothing like that.

Now, does that mean that when you watched it, were you given a full script of the sixth episode?

DI MARTINO: Yes. We got one episode at a time. So I wasn't given Episode 6 until like midway through shooting Episode 5.

So in that situation, what was your initial reaction to reading, especially like the last, say, 10 pages or so.

DI MARTINO: Just like, holy crap. This is massive. How exciting. Woof. And then also, "who's going to play He Who Remains, I need to know because it's such an amazing part and such incredible speeches he has. I wanted to imagine who would play him, but I couldn't have ever imagined the way Jonathan would have done it. So brilliant.

In terms of working with Jonathon Majors, what was that experience like? Just because I feel like he brought such a different energy to the role than I think anyone would have ever expected.

DI MARTINO: Yeah. He just exploded onto that set with so much energy and nothing like we could ever have imagined. It was a lot of fun and he was brilliant. You know, people were saying this is going to be something really special, whispering behind the camera. He was so eccentric and fun and kind of terrifying. Very easy for Tom and I to just sit and listen to him for a few days. Very entertaining.

Yeah. In rewatching the episode, it's still so striking to me the way that, after Sylvie stabs him, he makes barely any noise.

DI MARTINO: Because he knows that it's a possibility, I think. So maybe he's had a long time to sort of imagine every scenario. Yeah. It's kind of creepy, isn't it? The way he does that.

When you were breaking down the script for Episode 6, were you talking about Kang the Conqueror? Were you talking about the comic book backstory there?

DI MARTINO: I don't remember talking about the comic book backstory of Episode 6. But you know, to be honest, it was all very quick. Especially with Episode 6, we got the script pretty late in the day. So there wasn't that much mining to be done, to be honest. I'm not sure about Jonathan's experience, but for me, it was sort of pretty late in the day, just in the case of learning my lines and trying to make sure I didn't mess that up.

Of course — and it makes sense in terms of where your character is coming from.

DI MARTINO: Exactly. So I just need to know at that point, I just need to know what's going on for Sylvie.

In that case, in your head, what was going on for Sylvie in those scenes?

DI MARTINO: Oh my goodness. So much. I mean, so much happens in like 30 seconds. Doesn't it?

Definitely. But even before the final sequences, it's very dialogue-heavy and there's a lot of listening. In playing that, what was important for you?

DI MARTINO: To really listen and to really take on board what he was saying to us at that point, and then to choose not to believe him. For Sylvie, she's just on a revenge mission from the minute she walks into that building, she knows that she wants to kill someone. When they're in the elevator with him, she's already taking swipes at him. She just wants to get him with her machete. And I think she's just so laser-focused on that goal, that he could have said anything to her and her priority wouldn't have changed.

So you don't think there was ever a moment in that whole sequence where Sylvie was tempted, not tempted by the possibilities presented, but tempted to believe him?

DI MARTINO: I think there's a moment that he really pushes Sylvie's buttons when he's talking about you have been on a long journey and it's been really tough for you, hasn't it? And you can't trust anyone. You think you can trust him. And he starts playing mind games with them, playing them off against each other. And I think at that point, he plants a seed of doubt in her mind about Loki, but I think her mission to want to kill him doesn't change. She's absolutely married to that idea. And that feeling is so strong that she chooses it over Loki in the end.

From your perspective, where does that come from?

DI MARTINO: Just revenge. Like having her life taken away from her, her life ruined, spending her whole life on the run, this sort of anger. And if you want to think of it in these terms, her "glorious purpose." I went there.

I don't think you got to say those words during the show, so I'm glad you got this moment now.

DI MARTINO: Yeah. I'm saying it as much as I can now.

Later in the episode, this wasn't the first time you had a fight sequence with Tom Hiddleston, but did it feel different from the episodes you shot earlier?

DI MARTINO: Yeah, it did. This scene was far more emotive. There was a lot more going on for both of them. It was the breakup scene. It was the fight that you have when you are leaving someone. And it's so painful because you care about this person, but you just can't be with them for whatever reason. And that's how that felt.

Which is so interesting because of course what happens at the end of it is that there's a kiss and it's given the whole big Hollywood romantic music treatment.

DI MARTINO: Yeah. I mean, but that often happens when you're splitting up with someone, doesn't it? Just one last time, a sweet goodbye. It's kind of like a goodbye kiss in a way.

Of course. But it was also, unless I'm missing something, the first kiss.

DI MARTINO: Yeah. It was. And it had been building up for a long, long time. I think it was ultimately a goodbye kiss and a clap away for Sylvie to physically turn him around so she could get hold of that TemPad and zap him back to the TVA.

Yeah, of course. In terms of that, in general, I feel like there's a temptation to just kind of look at the Loki and Sylvie relationship as a straightforward romance, which of course it is very much not. From your perspective, what was it about that you worked hard to lean into.

DI MARTINO: I think it's about sort of self-love and acceptance as well as being a romance story. And for Sylvie, she's sort of shedding everything she doesn't need before she gets to He Who Remains so she can kill him. She gets rid of her cape, she gets rid of her horns. She ultimately gets rid of Loki. It's just not serving her in that moment. And it's so cold to think of it that way. But I think that's what was happening. That and the fact that she wanted him to be safe. So, she's kind of saving him by pushing him through that time door as well.

And if you're going to think of it as like an exploration of self-acceptance and self-love, that's also interesting because she showed sort-of, I don't know, getting rid of a part of herself that isn't serving her anymore at the same time as keeping it safe.

It's really interesting to hear you talk about it that way, because it makes me think about how the one thing that came out, especially I think in Episode 5, is the idea that knowing Sylvie made Loki a better person in some fundamental ways. And I'm wondering about the opposite of that. What did knowing Loki mean for Sylvie?

DI MARTINO: I think it's slightly different for Sylvie. I don't know if he's made her a better person. I don't know if she's allowed herself to change yet. Loki's been quite brave and he's changed. He's a changed person by the end of that series. Sylvie is still hell-bent on her mission and she still chooses it over caring about someone else. So maybe she's yet to make that change.

So in talking about the scene like it's a breakup... Season 1 ends with the characters being very separated and of course, Season 2 is very much a nebulous thing at the moment, but people break up all the time and get back together. In your head, do you see there being still some sort of future for the characters as a couple?

DI MARTINO: It would definitely be fun to see them in the same room together again, wouldn't it? I'm fascinated. Yeah. After that, I'm fascinated to see what Loki has to say to Sylvie after doing that to him. Who knows? Never say never. I'm really excited to see what they come up with because it could go in so many different directions, but surely they have to come face to face again at some point.

It's like that awkward party after you've broken up with someone and you see them again. And that first conversation, whether it's in public or not, it's sorts of awful, but such a relief once it's been done.

Something that's been kind of a topic of discussion when it comes to talking about romance on screen is a quality that a lot of leading men have — for lack of a better term, the ability to give their love interest a Look. I've consulted with others and we feel like Tom Hiddleston has the look or has the ability to deliver the look. And I'm curious what it's like to be on the other side of it.

DI MARTINO: Tom's a very charming man and he could definitely make people go weak at the knees by just giving them a look. My reaction to that is always to sort of make a joke and run away. So there was probably a lot of that on set, breaking the tension by being a goofball.

I just had to react as Sylvie. And Sylvie's got these walls up. She doesn't let anyone in and that includes Loki. So sure there's a sort of, oh, this person is not as I thought they were. I'm warming to them. But Sylvie's not an easy nut to crack.

Is it fun getting to play that kind of strength?

DI MARTINO: Yeah. It's awesome because when her defenses do come down and she's vulnerable, it's really interesting. And you start to see all of the stuff that's buried underneath and that's what makes her a great character to play.

So, how do you feel about there being a second season? Do you feel like if there hadn't been a second season, you would have gotten the closure you wanted to from the story?

DI MARTINO: Probably not. I want to know what happens just like everyone else. I'm super excited and I just can't wait to see which direction they're going because it could be infinite directions.

Do you have a sense that there might've been different aspects to it, had COVID not been an issue?

DI MARTINO: I think COVID actually probably made it a lot better. We had a five months hiatus and Kate and the producers and writers worked a lot on episodes five and six during that time. And as far as I've heard, a lot changed for the better. They could rewatch what we'd already shot and just carry on working on the scripts and developing them. So I think it was great to have that time actually, as awful in most ways it was, that was the silver lining of it.

Very. Yeah. So looking forward, I imagine if there's a second season, you're on board if you get asked.

DI MARTINO: Hopefully. Hope so.

By the way, I was really excited to see the story about how your costume was designed to allow you to breastfeed during shooting. That seems like it was a really special detail.

DI MARTINO: Yeah, really, really. I'm just so grateful that that happened. It made my life so much easier and it was important to me that I carried on doing that. So it was just the little things and it's just saved a lot of time. Practically, it was a godsend.

Of course. So looking forward, what's next for you?

DI MARTINO: Lots of interviews. Lots of being able to talk about episode six finally, and then, who knows? An infinite possibility. So yeah, I'm excited to see what happens and to see people's reactions to the series because people are still catching up. People are still watching and rewatching it and probably go on.

Yeah. I mean, I imagine that you're going to be cosplayed at various conventions over the next several decades probably.

DI MARTINO: Do you think? That blows my mind.

I mean, cosplaying has a long legacy to it.

DI MARTINO: It's so cool. The way that people are already making Sylvie horns and crafting them from scratch and spraying them. And there's one woman that's just sewn a whole suit together and it looks exactly like my costume. It's so impressive, the love and attention people put into it.

Are you getting an action figure?

DI MARTINO: I don't know. Hopefully. What would I do with it? Maybe I could use it as a cake topper. Who knows? But that would be a very cool thing to have, wouldn't it?

#loki #loki series #sophia di martino #sylvie #interview #article #collider #spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers

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suituuup · 4 years

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pieces - chapter five

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse)

ao3 link

As the rest of the day ticked by, Beca kept replaying the events at Sarah’s coffee shop over and over, unable to pinpoint what she could have said to make Chloe bolt like that. She managed to focus on her tasks at hand over the afternoon and headed home around 6, groaning as soon as she stepped inside when she remembered she had promised Sarah to cook her dinner.

She pondered on canceling for half a minute because all she felt like doing was taking a long shower and eating pizza in bed, but she already felt guilty about a lot of things these past couple of days.

So she took a quick shower instead and put on some comfy jeans and a plaid shirt, tossing her blow-dried hair in a messy bun atop her head. With one of her favorite blues records playing throughout her home, Beca set to work to make creamy salmon pasta with spinach, nursing a much-needed glass of wine as she cooked.

“Babe?”

“In the kitchen,” Beca called out over the music, lowering the heat on the boiling water and dropping a handful of spaghetti in. She smiled as Sarah brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Hey.”

“Hello you,” Sarah murmured, squeezing her hip as she walked past her to set a bottle of wine on the counter. “Smells delicious.”

“Hopefully it tastes good, too.” Not that Beca was worried; she had been making this dish for a few years. “Wine?”

Sarah hopped onto the counter next, humming. “Yes, please.”

Beca opened the fridge and took the bottle out, reaching on the tip of her toes (shhh) for a glass in the cabinet over her head. She poured some wine in and handed it to Sarah. “Sorry I disappeared earlier.”

After Chloe had left, Beca wasn’t in the mood to eat or finish her coffee, leaving a $20 on the table on her way out.

“Was that the friend you told me about yesterday?”

Beca puffed out a sigh. “Yeah. She’s…” It’s complicated, Beca was about to say, but she figured she owed Sarah some details after what happened at her workplace. “She’s in a bad place. And I wanna help her, but she doesn’t seem to want any help. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Sarah covered Beca’s hand with her own, the pad of her thumb stroking her skin back and forth. “Has it been a long time since you last saw each other?”

“Over six years. We fell out of touch about five years ago. Well, she cut us all out of her life nearly overnight.”

Sarah tilted her head to the side. “Us?”

“The Bellas, from college. Chloe and I were co-captains.” Beca swallowed around the lump forming in her throat as a wave of nostalgia hit her with full force. “She just… she was my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe give her some time and she’ll come around?”

Beca doubted that, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah, maybe.” She shook her head, squeezing Sarah’s hand as she mustered a smile. “Enough about me. How was your day?”

As the next week ticked by, Beca started to lose hope. In true Beca Mitchell fashion, she threw herself into work to avoid dealing with her emotions, staying at the office until midnight most days.

A knock on her open-door one night made her jolt. She had lost herself in the view and her own thoughts, unaware someone was still at the office.

Beca spun her chair around to face the door, finding Luke in the doorway. “Why are you here so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Luke pointed out, inviting himself in. He set a sheet of paper in front of Beca, then plopped down in the seat on the other side of her desk. “This is incredible. You’ve got to record it.”

Beca glanced down at her own handwriting, heavily regretting showing Luke that song she wrote a few days ago. “I don’t know, man.”

“What?” Luke asked, incredulous. “Becky, you haven’t been able to write a lyric for the past three years and now that you’ve got a platinum record worthy song, you don’t want to use it?”

Beca nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “It feels too personal, I’m not sure I feel like sharing it with the world.” She glared at him next. “And stop calling me Becky, this is getting old.”

“I’m serious, this might be your best work yet,” Luke insisted. “Think about it?”

“I will. Now get out of my office,” Beca muttered.

“You got it, Becky,” Luke teased, easily catching the stress ball Beca tossed at his head, chuckling at her poor attempt. “You should go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah. Night.”

“Goodnight.”

It turned out Sarah had been right.

When Beca wasn’t expecting it anymore, Chloe called. And she sounded like Chloe. Hope flared within her once more, but she tried not to let it engulf her whole being. While Chloe reaching out was an enormous step, Beca threaded carefully, knowing a lot could happen in five days.

She wished she had been wrong, but as it pushed 1 pm that Thursday afternoon, it was pretty clear Chloe wouldn’t show. Beca didn’t have her phone number or any other way to contact her. Her heart felt heavy as she headed back to BMLJ for her meeting with Jesse regarding his movie score, and her head was too full of thoughts to completely focus on work.

“Earth to Beca.”

Beca hummed, snapping out of her daze. Jesse was staring at her in a mix of concern and curiosity. “Sorry.”

“Do you wanna do this another time?”

“No, no,” Beca insisted, straightening up. “I’m okay.” She hated how well Jesse knew her, and heaved a sigh when he gave her that look. “It’s Chloe.”

“Chloe Beale?” Jesse asked. “She’s in New York?”

“Yeah. I found her a couple of weeks ago. She’s a stripper at some hyped club in Times Square.”

“Holy shit, seriously?”

Beca proceeded to tell him everything over the next ten minutes, Jesse hanging onto every word. “Am I stupid? Trying so hard to help someone who clearly doesn’t want to be helped?”

“No, you’re not stupid. You’re a softie under that tough exterior and you care deeply about the people you love. Especially Chloe. I was in the front row, remember?”

Beca grimaced, some of that decade-old guilt surfacing. “Dude…”

“It’s fine. I’m definitely over all of that, but we both know Chloe is too important for you to just give up. And from how you described her, and that phone call? It sounds like she still cares, but she lost herself along the way and is now in so deep she has trouble coming back on her own. Maybe she just needs to hear that asking for help isn’t giving up, but rather refusing to give up.”

Those words echoed deep within Beca, and she found herself nodding, filled with newfound energy to fight for this. “I need to go by the club. Tonight. Her boss might kick me out if I show up inside, but maybe I can wait by the back door?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to, man. It might be hours before we see her.”

“That guy sounds creepy, you shouldn’t go on your own.”

Beca sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll pick you up around ten.”

Beca felt like they were on a stake-out as they waited in her car hours later, parked across the back alley of the club. Winter had definitely settled in in NYC and waiting in the cold for hours in freezing temperatures didn’t seem like a great plan.

She texted back and forth with Aubrey, who once more offered to come down, but Beca was concerned Chloe might think they were ambushing her.

It was pushing midnight by the time a familiar figure stepped out of the building through the side door. Chloe was on her own.

Beca slapped Jesse’s arm to wake him up. “She’s here.”

They both stepped out of the car and crossed the street when it was clear, Beca telling Jesse to wait by the corner as she tentatively approached Chloe, slipping her gloved hands inside the pockets of her dark grey wool trench coat.

She was smoking a cigarette, clad in her glitter dress under an open fleece jacket. Her gaze flickered to Beca when she spotted her, her posture turning rigid. “What are you doing here?”

There was no bite to her tone but soft curiosity, which reassured Beca further.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe glanced over her shoulder towards the door as she nibbled on her lower lip. “Five minutes, then I have to go back inside.”

She met Beca on the other side of the alley, the orange glow of the lamp post over their heads allowing Beca to trace her features. “You didn’t show earlier.”

Chloe dragged on her cigarette. “I changed my mind.”

“Is that the truth or did someone tell you not to?” She wasn’t dumb; after meeting Chloe’s boss and knowing she was his favorite, she had an inkling the two were somehow involved. And that guy just gave off a crazy possessive vibe. Chloe’s silence was her answer. “Chlo…”

“It’s more complicated than you think,” Chloe murmured, licking her lips.

“Then explain it to me,” she demanded, a desperate edge to her tone.

“Why are you doing this?” Chloe croaked out. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Her question took Beca by surprise, and her mouth moved wordlessly for a few beats. “Because I care about you. And you’re not okay, Chlo. I want to help.”

“Beca…”

She thought back on Jesse’s words. “Asking for help is not giving up, Chloe. It’s refusing to give up. And I’m here. You just have to say the word, I’ve got you.”

Chloe shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I’m not--” Her eyes were filled with so much sadness when they found Beca’s that Beca had to remind herself to breathe. “I’m not worth it.”

Those four words felt like a knife lodging itself inside Beca’s heart. They stole all the air from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. “What?” She whispered, her voice nowhere within reach as a huge lump formed in her throat. “That’s not true,” she said, with more forcefulness this time around. “It’s not, you hear me?”

Chloe kept shaking her head. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t know this version of you, but I know Chloe Beale is still in there, somewhere. I heard her on the phone the other day, remember? And I can see her now, under all those layers of sadness and lack of self-worth triggered by outside factors. I know her soul hasn’t changed, deep down. It couldn’t have, because you are the purest, kindest human being there is, and that has to still be somewhere in there.”

“I’m broken, Bec,” Chloe cried, her eyes filled to the rim with tears threatening to spill over. “I’m a crack addict. I don’t--” A sob spilled from her throat. “I spend all my money on coke and all I know how to do anymore is show my breasts for money.”

A tear rolled down Beca’s cheek as she reached for Chloe’s hand. “Then I’ll help put you back together. Piece by piece, for however long it takes. Whatever it takes, Chlo. I promise.”

“Chloe?”

Both their heads snapped towards the open door, where Marco stood. His features hardened when he saw Beca there, and Beca released Chloe’s hand, looking over her shoulder towards Jesse, who made his way over.

“What is she doing here?” He spat out as he climbed down the set of steps.

Chloe visibly swallowed, her fear radiating off her. “She’s just leaving.”

“No, I’m not,” Beca stated, loud and clear as her eyes shone fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere without Chloe.”

“You fucking homewrecker,” he muttered, crossing the alley in quick strides. Chloe stepped in front of Beca, as though to shield her with her own body. The anger swirling in his eyes shot a chill down Beca’s spine. “Move, Chloe.”

Chloe shook her head. “You should go back inside, Marco. Please don’t make a scene, it’s not worth it.”

Beca had never understood the expression ‘to see red’ until now; until she witnessed Marco backhanding Chloe with so much force she staggered back with a cry.

Unparalleled rage filled her, the kind of rage she couldn’t control. She stepped forward and raised her fist, clocking him in the face with a mean right hook. She wasn’t sure if the cracking sound came from her knuckle or his nose breaking, the pain in her hand muffled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Marco stumbled a few steps backward with a grunt, his eyes screwed shut as he covered his nose with his hand. But Beca wasn’t done, taking advantage of his dizzy state and stepping forward to knee him in the balls as hard as she could so he couldn’t walk until they were all safely inside the car.

“You guys get into the car,” Jesse ushered them, keeping an eye on Marco as he doubled over in pain.

“Chloe, come on,” Beca coaxed urgently, grabbing her hand and pulling. To her surprise, Chloe didn’t fight her. She seemed absolutely shell-shocked, even once they reached the car, as though her legs were carrying her on their own accord and her brain was miles behind. “Get inside, Chlo.”

Jesse jogged over a few seconds later and slid behind the wheel without Beca having to ask him, and she climbed in the backseat beside Chloe, relief washing over as the doors locked behind them and the car pulled onto the road towards safety.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #chloe beale #beca mitchell #pitch perfect fic

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bokoutoe-retired · 4 years

Text

— setups, haunted houses, and confessions

characters; daichi sawamura, gn! reader

synopsis; after being set up by sugawara, a pining captain and a smitten team manager stumble their way through a very unplanned ‘date’

total w/c; 2154

warnings; a little mentioned of (implied) fake blood, and i mention clowns and zombies like once, just some normal haunted house stuff. otherwise nothing but awkward pinning here

「 a/n 」 requested by @girlontumblur! so i obviously failed at getting this out like i wanted (i went back and edited last minute smh) 😔🤚 but it’s here now! 😼😼 and i hope this does decent because although it doesn’t flow as well as i wanted it to, i still kinda like it lmao. anyways, daichi simps unite 🤝 enjoy!

you honestly should’ve known something was up the second sugawara approached you after practice with a sly grin plastered on his annoyingly pretty face. you should've known when everyone texted the team group chat with last minute cancelations or excuses for running late. and you definitely should’ve known when daichi was the only one you found sitting at the planned meeting spot. but, you didn’t and neither did he.

now you two were sat alone on the small blue bench. daichi had one of his hands tucked into the pocket of his thick army green jacket and the other hand scrolling through the same group chat you were looking at minutes prior. the two of you had agreed to wait for a little in hopes that maybe one or two other team members might show up. but unbeknownst to either party, both of you also hoped someone would show up and save you the pain of embarrassing yourself in front of the person you had been pining after for nearly three years. daichis phone pinged, interrupting the awkward silence. it was a text from suga and daichi can feel the tips of his ears grow warm as he reads the message;

have fun on your date! ;) -suga

of course it was suga. he shouldn’t have expected anything less from his scheming vice captain. how he got the whole team to go along with it, is a mystery he decides to leave for another day when he hears you speak up from your spot next to him.

“is anyone else coming?” he’s thrown out of his thoughts when he feels you nudge his shoulder with yours and sees you nod to his phone. he quickly turns it off and pockets it before he turns his attention to you completely.

“i don’t think so, asahi was the last one to check in and he just canceled,” he sighs and shoves his other hand in his pocket. you two have been close friends for years, but a few recent incidents, (perhaps incited by suga now that he thinks about it…) have left you walking on eggshells around each other. all in attempt to not admit your feelings, the same feelings that are completely obvious to everyone except yourselves.

“oh.. well, i don’t mind if you don’t?” you wring your hands together in your lap as you look at him.

“yeah, yeah of course not. we’re already here aren’t we?” he gives you that big, warm smile you love so much. it’s practically infectious as you feel a wide grin spread across your face too. “lets go, yeah?” he stands up from the bench, and doesn’t hesitate to offer you his hand. you happily allow him to help hoist you up off the bench, but have to resist the urge to intertwine your fingers with his.

the walk to the pumpkin farm and haunted house combination is only about fifteen minutes, but the awkward silence from before is gone. replaced by comfortable conversation about your responsibilities as team captain and manager respectively, funny stories about your friends or talk about your shared classes. you’re so involved with the conversation neither of you notice the way you walk with your shoulders pressed together. maybe it’s a subconscious pull to one another or maybe just an attempt to escape the chill of the late fall air.

upon your arrival, you can see the towering entrance archway, made of large sticks and corn stalks. built up into a curve with twinkle lights woven throughout. it welcomes you into the family owned farm turned halloween attraction. underneath the arch, families enter and exit, some with children in their costumes and some with parents carrying pumpkins. some young couples and teenage friend groups pass through as well. the small apple cider stand surrounded by hale bales emits that sweet spiced scent that so perfectly encapsulates autumn.

the original “plan” as stated by suga was to just go through the haunted house together and get some food together, just some team bonding. but without the lovable burden of the entire karasuno volleyball club with you, it’s easy for you and daichi to leisurely make your way around the entire farm and participate in all of it’s available activities. you made your way through a hay bale maze together. it may have been meant for children but you had fun regardless, laughing when you got separated and teasing each other when you hit a dead end. you got the treat of watching daichi attempt to bob for apples, and get nothing except for a slightly damp shirt collar.

you even purchased a bag of animal feed for you and daichi to share. you went around petting and feeding goats and a few chickens. at some point you reached into the small brown paper bag right when daichi did. your fingers brushed his and you both pulled back like you had been burned. each of you flusteredly spitting out apologies, until he takes a deep breath, chuckles and shakes head, telling you not to worry about it and it’s no big deal. his strong voice and calm words are a stark contrast to his worried apologies just seconds earlier, but it’s enough for you to relax and continue on with the afternoon.

eventually, daichi leads you to sit down across from him at a wooden table and you’re quick to fall into comfortable conversation. all while the warmth of the apple cider he had just bought you seeps into your fingers and keeps them warm.

if you didn’t doubt yourself so much, you would’ve thought this felt exactly like some sort of date happening. the two of you together, spending time doing things any real couple would. at the same time, similar thoughts raced through daichis mind. he thought about how much this must look like a date to any people passing, and how much he really did wish that was the case. to be able to call you his own and take you out on cute dates like this whenever you wanted. too concerned with his cheeks dusting red at the thought, he fails to notice the similar blush presenting itself on your face.

it’s so easy to get caught up as you keep talking with daichi, you don’t notice the sun starting to set and you don’t even catch him gazing at you with that soft look in his eyes.

you crack a joke during your story about some of tanaka and noyas shenanigans and he laughs. he laughs this hearty, bright laugh that makes your chest tighten and your own smile widen. i’d like to make him laugh like that for the rest of my life you think.

“you know, i’m a little relieved. with the entire team here it would’ve been hectic to say the least,” he lets out another laugh at the thought of the whole club wreaking havoc on the poor farm, “and you know… i’m glad i got to spend time with you too. it was nice and i’m having a really good time” his soft smile is just as sincere as his words.

“i did too, daichi. thank you for today, i really had fun” you smile back at him and take a sip of your cider.

“ah ah! don’t say thank you yet, y/n. we’ve still got one last thing to do,” he shoves a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the haunted house. from your spot at the table you can see the flash of the strobe lights and artificial fog trickling from the attraction. “maybe we should go get in line?”

you nod, and he once again offers you his hand to help you stand. and just like before you resist the nagging push in the back of your mind to just intertwine your fingers with his. you make your way over, tossing your empty cider cups into the trash as you walk.

you purchase your tickets, or more so daichi buys both of them despite you insisting it’s your turn to pay after he bought cider, and get in the line of about ten people.

“you know i didn’t really consider the fact i wouldn’t have the whole team to hide behind anymore” you rock and back and forth on your feet, as you hear a couple of screams echo from inside the house.

“what, is your captain not big and strong enough to protect you?” he teases while flexing one arm.

“oh stop it, you know what i meant” you playfully roll your eyes and poke him in the ribs right before he swats your hand away.

“just remember, if you take me out now you won’t have anyone to hide behind” by now the line has moved up and there’s only two or three people in front of you.

they group in front of you goes and suddenly you and daichi are up next. the front of the haunted house is decaying and covered in those sticky store-bought cobwebs. you drop your tickets in the box and with a wave of their hand an employee motions you forward into the entrance.

you make your way through the halls of the attraction, going through different themed sections. a circus tent full of crazed clowns, a bloodied butchers shop, and zombies kept back by chain fences. each hall comes with its own set of spooks and scares. creepy sound effects, banging on the walls all around you and air machines puffing air into your face. you don’t even attempt to hide your terror as you scream and even grab onto daichis arm. he lets out his own shouts of fear, but manages to put on his tough act at least partially. you notice him place himself in front of you slightly as you walk, the arm you cling to held in front of your body protectively, although there was no true danger. you’d probably think something of it if you weren’t too distracted by the adrenaline pumping in your veins. it’s not all scary though, a couple of daichis screams make you giggle and act as momentary distraction from your surroundings. a particularly high pitched yelp of his has you gripping the back of his shirt, doubled over laughing. but a loud bang that rattles the wall next to your gives you a start and you keep venturing forward through the house.

you think you’re finally in the clear when you're walking down the hall that leads to the exit off the back of the house. you see an employee dressed in all black at the end directing people around the side of the house and back to the front. but it’s only when you feel your heartbeat start to slow that you hear the chainsaw start and the screams of the group behind you and daichi. you’re heartbeat picks up again and out of pure instinct you lurch forward. you make it out the hall and into the small gravel field behind before you realize daichi still had himself in front of you. you’re too late to react and go barreling into him. the momentum brings both of you tumbling forward into the gravel. you land halfway on top of him but his reflexes are much better than your own and they help keep you from going too far. one arm keeps you from rolling and the other cradles your head to his chest to prevent you from hitting it. the loud buzz of the chainsaw fades as the actor chases the friend group around the side of the house for a short distance. you immediately sit yourself up and attempt to apologize between labored breaths.

“oh god, daichi. i- i’m so sorry, i just heard the chainsaw and i started moving. i didn’t even think. i understand now why you don’t like me back now. i’m so sorry” you hang your head in apology, not even registering the words that slip from your mouth in your scramble to say sorry.

“what?” he asks, stunned.

“...what?” you echo back slowly before the realization hits you hard. you struggle to spit out an explanation and you feel your face heat up, “i just meant-”

daichis look of shock morphs into a soft smile as he cuts you off with another one of his warm laughs and uses the hand at the back of your neck to pull you down. his lips meet yours in a kiss thats just as warm and solid as him. he pulls away after a moment only to rest your foreheads together and smile at you softly

“does that mean?” you breathe out, smiling back hopefully.

“yes, yes it does,” he chuckles and stands up from the ground. daichi offers you his hand one last time, you take it and pull yourself up. but unlike any previous offers, you don’t hesitate to lace your fingers with his.

#i know i said 4pm in my post #but i decided to wait a little for maximum exposure~#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu oneshots #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #hq daichi #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x you #daichi x gender neutral reader #daichi oneshots #haikyuu fic #anyways i'm so soft for him no one talk to me ;-;#haikyuu x reader oneshots

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mint-yooxgi · 4 years

Text

All Consuming - Yandere!Powers!Jimin X Powers!Reader

Yandere!AU - Part of the Yandere!BTS X Reader Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Semi-Smut (Mentions of Masturbation)

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Words: 12,780

Warning: Minor assault. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Damn this turned out way longer than expected, but it’s finally here! Yay! After how many months of me saying it’ll be posted soon over and over again lmaoo. My apologies about that, life got crazy and I was severely demotivated to write this story for the longest time. Anyways, I'm glad it’s done now, though I think the first half is a bit slow to start. Hopefully it lives up to everyone’s expectations! Loosely inspired by X-Men. As always, I do not believe Jimin, nor any member of BTS would act like this. This is just my interpretation of the archetype. Feedback is greatly appreciated, enjoy!

Another day, another summer that has come and gone within the blink of an eye. This year in particular has gone by quicker than all the rest, and you’re not sure why. You’re just glad to be back at the academy and away from your brother.

A sigh slips past your lips as you stare up at the large stone building, standing almost castle-like in appearance. You watch as hundreds of students mill around you, some returning for another year, while others take in the grand sight before them for the first time. You can hear all their thoughts in your mind, jumbled over one another as their emotions over power you for the time being.

The first day is always the hardest.

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you focus on casting out all the unwanted voices from your head, something which you learned to do last year, and worked hard to perfect over the summer. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you manage to find peace and quiet within your mind once more.

Being able to read minds can be tough, especially when some thoughts others have just simply demand to be heard. The whole reason you came to this school in the first place is to better understand yourself and your powers. So far, it’s been pretty helpful, and you’ve made some good friends along the way. You can’t help but think of the academy as a second home.

“It’s good to be back,” a small smile tugs at your lips as you begin to make your way inside the building.

Turning a few corners, you allow your feet to take you to the room you’ve been staying in during all your previous years here at the academy. You can faintly hear shouts coming from other rooms as people move in, or see their friends for the first time in what feels like ages.

Opening the door to your room, you take a quick look around. Everything appears to have been left exactly in the same spot as before, only now, a thin layer of dust resides on all the shelves. Your father will be by later to drop off all your other things that you’ll need for the year, like spare sheets, towels, and most importantly, your clothes.

Moving over to the shared bathroom, you give a soft knock before opening the door. Giving a quick look around as you flick on the lights, you notice the door to the adjacent room closed. However, in the next moment, it’s flinging open to reveal Jihyo, your roommate for the past two years.

“Oh my goodness, (Y/n)! Is that you?” She squeals, tackling you in a hug and nearly sending the both of you crashing to the floor.

“Hey, Jihyo,” you chuckle, hugging her back as you steady yourself on your feet.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggles, “I must have got too excited to see you again.”

“It’s been, what? Three or four months?” You smile, quirking a brow as you pull away from her to look into her eyes.

“Seems like forever ago!” She smiles back, eyes crinkling at the sides. “How’ve you been? How was your summer?”

“Not too bad. Though, I wish I didn’t have to spend so much time with Harold,” you roll your eyes slightly, noticing that she shoots a sympathetic look in your direction. “I swear he can do no wrong by our parents.”

“Hey, well, at least you don’t have to see him now for a couple of months,” she says, you nodding along with her statement.

“Yeah, at least,” you sigh, lip quirking slightly. “Anyways, how was your summer? Any big splashes?”

“Will you stop with the water puns?” She rolls hers eyes, exasperated as you simply grin in response. “No, not really, though I did make a wave crash into my cousin at the beach cause she called me a tramp.”

The casual shrug of her shoulders as she says this sends you into a fit of laughter, “remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Hun, it’s been how many years and I still put up with your water-based puns,” she nudges your shoulder. “You couldn’t get on my bad side even if you tried.”

“You put too much faith in me,” you grin, shaking your head slightly as you cross your arms in front of your chest. “One day you’ll get sick of my puns and leave me for someone more fluid with their words.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god,” a look flashes through Jihyo’s eyes and you jump back into your room before she can smack you. A large smile is on your face as a few giggles slip out, watching her shake her head at you. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” your voice singsongs, a slight tilt to your head. “Love you, too.”

Before you two can continue your conversation, a knock sounds at your door. Moving over to see who it is, Jihyo casually leans against the side of the bathroom doorframe with her arms crossed. Opening your room door, you’re greeted by your father and brother, both holding two of your bags.

“Hi sweetie! Guess who wanted to tag along to say goodbye one last time!” Your father cheerfully greets you, stepping past you and into your room.

“Oh, hi there, Jihyo,” Harold greets her with a smile, noticing her presence as he steps into your room after your father.

“Hello,” she greets back politely, shooting you a look once both their backs are turned. Your eyes plead for her to stay, but she only sends you an apologetic look. “I’ll leave you all to it then, since you’ll probably want to talk with (Y/n).”

With a final polite smile, she closes the bathroom door in order to retreat into her room, leaving you alone with your dad and brother. You nearly sigh at her thoughts of good luck aimed towards you.

“I think this was everything you wanted me to bring for you,” you father smiles, placing your bags near your bed.

“It should be,” you smile back. “Thanks for bringing this stuff.”

“Of course! If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to phone,” you dad says.

“Well, we won’t keep you for too long then,” Harold says.

“That’s okay,” you reassure him. “Did you want to stay? We could grab dinner and I could show you guys the new west wing of the school if you wanted?”

“Maybe another time, we should probably get back home soon, before the traffic gets really bad,” Harold frowns slightly, along with your father.

“Your brother’s right,” you father sighs. “Maybe we can all come visit you soon though, and stay for the whole day. I do have to drive him back to his university early tomorrow morning anyways.”

“Alright,” you smile, somewhat sadly. “Thanks for bringing my stuff.”

“Of course, sweetie,” your father smiles, pulling you in for a hug. “We’ll talk with you later, okay?”

“Okay, dad,” you mumble into his chest before pulling away.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Harold jokes, pulling you into a hug of his own.

“No promises,” you tease, hugging him back briefly.

Waving a final goodbye, you close your door behind them as they leave. Once the door is closed, you find yourself letting out a sigh.

“You okay?” Jihyo’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts.

You turn to look at her, a hint of sadness in your eyes, “yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m used to them not spending time with me anyways. Harold’s more important than I am. Always.”

“(Y/n), you know that’s not true,” she crosses her arms while sending you a firm look. You can practically feel her sympathy radiating off of her before her thoughts even reach you.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” you state, turning around to pull one of your suitcases onto your bed to start unpacking.

You hear her sigh before her mood is shifting to become her usual cheerful self, “well, why don’t we grab food after you’re done unpacking then?”

“Sounds good,” you shoot a smile at her from over your shoulder. “Feel free to keep me company in the mean time.”

“Sure!” She chirps. “Here, why don’t I dust your room while you unpack?”

“That’d be a big help, thanks,” you reply, already opening the drawers to your dresser to start placing your clothes into.

The two of you move around your room soon after, working around each other as you talk about your summers. It feels nice catching up with one of your closest friends, and having her help you clean your room makes the time fly by.

Soon enough, the two of you have finished, and are ready to make your way down to the mess hall in order to grab some dinner. You’re excited to see if any of your other friends have made it back today, or if they’ll be here tomorrow.

Stepping into the mess hall, it seems a little busier than normal at this time of year. Usually, most people move back to the dorms in the upcoming days, but it looks like more moved back early this year. That, and there seems to be a new guy sitting with the most popular group of students.

Your eyes narrow slightly as you walk past, hearing the curious thoughts of the students surrounding the mystery new guy. You manage to catch his eye briefly before turning your attention back to Jihyo. However, a new thought sticks out among the rest - cute.

Seeing as how Jihyo is standing right next to you, you’re assuming she’s caught this new guy’s attention. A subtle smirk pulls at your lips.

“Hey, sounds like the new guy thinks you’re cute,” you nudge her as you step in line to place your orders.

“Shut up, he was totally staring at you,” she responds, nudging you back.

“Who is he, anyways?” You inquire, interest peaked considering the amount of fuss he’s created so far.

“I’m not sure, but give me ten minutes and I’ll let you know,” she answers, looking around the mess hall to see if she can spot anyone else she might know to tell her what’s going on. “Order my usual from last year, I’ll meet you at our spot in a few.”

With that, she leaves you standing in line, off to talk with a few of her friends to update her on the new guy. You watch her walk up to Eric, your friend that you both made last year from your history of mutations class. A slight chuckle escapes your lips as you see them greet each other, almost immediately jumping into a conversation as they not so subtly eye the new guy.

Turning your attention back to the front, you realize that you’re next to order. Placing your orders, you patiently wait for your food to be made, standing off to the side as you quickly check your phone.

Scrolling through your notifications, you’re currently zoned out to the world around you. What you don’t expect though, is to feel a slight bump on your back, followed by a small ‘oof’.

Turning around, you’re met with the apologetic face of the new guy.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he says, a nervous look crossing his features.

“No worries,” you smile at him, “no harm done.”

“I’m Jimin, by the way,” he introduces himself, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “The new guy. Or at least one of them.”

“There’s more than one of you?” You quirk a brow questioningly, curious to know of the other new students that have joined the academy this year.

“Well, I’m actually not so sure, but I’d assume so,” he begins to say. “I mean, big school, there are bound to be a few new students every year, right? Unless I’m the only one, then that’d be weird, too, right? Oh god, I’m rambling again, I’m so sorry, I need to stop, oh my god.”

You let out a small chuckle, “it’s alright. I get it, don’t worry. We were all in your shoes at some point or other, being the new kid and all.”

You can practically hear his thoughts running wild just by looking at his face, but at your words, he seems to calm down slightly, even going so far as to breathe a small sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards. “Anyways, I should probably get going, still got a lot to explore and everything.”

“Well, if you need a tour guide-“

He cuts you off before you can continue, eyes widening slightly, “oh, no, that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to trouble you! Thanks though. I’ll see you around.”

With a final smile and a small wave, he’s heading off to join the group of people you saw him with when you walked into the mess hall. You simply smile to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you turn around, hearing your name get called to alert you that your food is ready. You weren’t even going to offer yourself as a tour guide, just wanting to point him in the direction of the campus lead tours they host every year for new students. You let out a small chuckle.

Grabbing the two containers, you make your way over to your usual spot where Jihyo and Eric are already sitting and waiting for you. Placing the two containers down, Jihyo grabs hers, thanking you shortly after.

“So, we saw you talking to the new guy,” she wiggles her brows suggestively at you.

“Yeah, he seems nice,” comes your reply, taking a bite of your food shortly afterwards.

“I was just telling Jihyo here that apparently he comes from the prestigious Park family that practically sits at the head of every governmental council powers are involved in,” Eric tells you, causing you to tilt your head slightly in curiosity. “Apparently, he comes from a family of powerful powers.”

“Has he expressed his gene yet?” You ask, turning to catch one final look at Jimin as he exits the mess hall.

“Apparently not,” Jihyo replies. “That’s why his parents sent him to this academy, in order to assess his skills and find out what kind of mutation he has.”

“So, you’re telling me, he could be just a regular human?” Your brow furrows in confusion, momentarily halting your eating.

“I mean, it’s possible,” Eric replies. “Mutation of a mutation, in some twisted way.”

“Woah,” Jihyo gasps.

“That’s pretty cool though, if you think about it,” you say, continuing to eat in the next moment. “Human or not, that’s still pretty neat.”

“Poor guy, though,” Jihyo adds, causing you and Eric to both look at her. “To have that kind of family, the expectations are probably really high, and considering he hasn’t expressed his gene yet… I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pressure he must be under.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Eric nods.

“You never know, maybe he has expressed it, but just no one knows yet,” you shrug, finishing off your dinner.

“That’s true,” Jihyo nods. “Either way, he’s cute and from what (Y/n) says, he seems nice enough. Considering he’s already in with the popular crowd must mean something.”

“Yeah, that he’s part of a major family,” Eric grumbles.

��Careful, Ric, your jealousy is showing,” you tease, watching as he crosses his arms in the next moment.

“I’m not jealous,” he pouts, though his thoughts suggest otherwise.

“Uh-huh, sure you’re not,” Jihyo gets in on the teasing. “It’s okay, we still love you.”

“Yeah,” you nod along reassuringly. “Besides, who else would be able to put up with you.”

“Hey!” He whines, causing both you and Jihyo to burst out laughing.

“We’re only kidding,” she grins, you nodding along with her.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs. “You guys would be lost without me.”

At this point, the three of you stand up, seeing as you and Jihyo are finished eating, and make your way out of the mess hall after throwing away your trash. The three of you continue to bicker and tease each other back and forth all the way back to the dorms, smiles never leaving your faces. You’re glad to be back, and glad to see your friends once more.

The next few days are spent with Jihyo and Eric, talking about the upcoming school year, getting resettled into the dorms, as well as catching up with some of your other friends. You’ve just gotten your schedule for the year, and it looks like you have half your classes with Jihyo, and the other half with Eric. Luckily, you all have the same lunch period and free time.

You haven’t run into the new guy, Jimin, lately, so you’re assuming he’s been hanging around with the popular kids all this time. They usually don’t reappear or show up until the first day of classes anyways.

The night before classes start, you’re just heading back to your room with Jihyo when you notice the room across from you still vacant. You send her a questioning look, since it’d odd to not have all the dorm rooms filled, especially the once across from yours considering it’s one of the biggest on this floor.

“Maybe whoever is moving in is late this year cause they’re on vacation?” Jihyo suggests.

“Maybe,” you shrug. “Or maybe there’s an actual empty room for once.”

“That’s true,” she nods.

The two of you enter your room at this, letting the door fall shut behind you. With a sigh, you plop onto your bed while Jihyo sits in your desk chair, spinning around to face you.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you something!” She says, an excited look crossing her face, of which you nod for her to continue. “Apparently, that new kid, Jimin or whatever, has been asking about you.”

“Really now?” You quirk a brow. “Why the hell would he be doing that, it’s not like we talked for longer than a few minutes.”

“He probably thinks you’re cute!” Jihyo winks. “I told you he was staring at you that night in the mess hall.”

“Doesn’t mean he thinks I’m cute,” you joke with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Still, don’t be surprised if he finds you to ask you out sometime soon,” she wiggles her brows suggestively.

“Jihyo, it’s only the beginning of the year, I doubt anything like that is going to happen so soon,” you huff.

“So, you’d like it if he asked you out?” She smirks, and you can hear her raunchy thoughts teasing you.

“Well, maybe, but I hardly know him,” you reply, throwing one of your pillows at her since she’s started chuckling at you. “Oh, shut up, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” She teases.

You let out a sigh, “Jihyo.”

“(Y/n),” she mirrors the exasperation in your tone, looking at you expectantly.

“I talked to him for five minutes, it means nothing!” You defend yourself.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, “sure it doesn’t.”

“It’s not like I like him like that, I don’t know him,” you repeat. “The semester hasn’t even begun, so all I can do is just take it day by day.”

“Fair enough,” she nods at you, leaning back deeper into your chair.

With that, the two of you move on to another topic, talking late into the night until Jihyo retreats to her room to sleep. You bid her a goodnight and that you’ll see her tomorrow for class. Once you’ve finished getting ready for bed, you climb under the covers, thinking about what tomorrow will bring. You can’t wait to see who else is in your classes, and you hope that the semester goes by quickly.

The next morning, you groggily pull yourself out of bed. You silently curse yourself for staying up so late last night as you get ready for the day. A soft knock on your door manages to pull you from your thoughts. Opening your door reveals both Eric and Jihyo standing in the hallway with smiles on their faces.

“Ready for breakfast?” Eric asks.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you reply with a smile, stepping into the hallway with your bag and shutting the door behind you.

The three of you make your way to the mess hall, talking amongst yourselves. Once you’ve all grabbed food, you’re sitting in your usual spot.

“Don’t look now, but it looks like someone is staring at you,” Jihyo nudges your arm while motioning across the hall with her head.

Your brow furrows as you look up from your food and over to where Jihyo has directed your attention. You do your best to drown out the voices of all the students in the hall, both in your head and not, as your gaze zeroes in on Jimin. Once he notices he’s been caught staring, he looks away quickly, and you swear you hear a loud ‘shit’ in your head as he looks away, embarrassed.

“I told you he’s interested in you!” Jihyo squeals.

“Wait, what?” This time it’s Eric’s brow that furrows in confusion. “Who are you talking about?”

With that, he turns around to see if he can catch a glimpse of whoever was staring at you.

“Jihyo insists that the new guy, Jimin, has a thing for me,” you huff, clearly amused as you lean back in your chair.

“Maybe he does,” Eric shrugs, turning back around to face you. “You never know. You could always do some snooping you know.”

“You know I would never willingly read someone’s thoughts, that’s an invasion of privacy,” you respond, eyes narrowing slightly at him for even suggesting that.

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in defence. “My bad.”

“Anyways, we should get to class,” Jihyo says, collecting her things and standing up.

You simply nod your head in agreement, standing up with her and gathering your own things, “see you later, Ric.”

He sends the two of you a final wave goodbye as you make your way out of the mess hall and towards your first class of the day. The whole time, you can feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You wonder if it was Jimin who returned to staring at you. You shake your head in order to clear your thoughts. You have more important things to worry about right now.

The first few classes you have pass by fairly quickly for you, and before you know it, it’s lunchtime. Both you and Jihyo meet Eric in the mess hall once more to eat. The three of you joke around, and you double check your bag to make sure you have everything you need for your next class. With a loud sigh, you realize you forgot your textbook.

“I forgot the fucking textbook,” you voice your thoughts to your friends. “I have to run back to my room to grab it quickly, but I’ll meet you in class, okay Ric?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he nods at you as you stand up.

“Save me a seat, will you?” You grin, tossing your bag over your shoulder and seeing him nod out of the corner of your eyes.

“See you soon,” he calls before turning back to talk with Jihyo.

Walking quickly, you weave your way through the halls of the school and back to your dorm room. Once you unlock your door, you grab the textbook you forgot earlier and head off to class. Checking your phone for the time, you see you still have a few minutes to spare, so you no longer have to rush as much as you were before.

Just as you reach the classroom, you manage to bump into someone coming out from the class. You let out a small ‘oof’ before apologizing for not watching where you’re going.

A chuckle reaches your ears, “it’s alright, I wasn’t watching where I was walking either.”

“Oh, Jimin,” you shoot him a polite smile, hearing his thoughts of amusement run through his head, “are you in this class, too?”

“Yep,” he returns your smile, eyes forming little crescents. You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at his happy thoughts of actually knowing another person in his class.

“Anyways, I’m going to head inside now,” you say, stepping around him without another word. You notice his eyes following you even after you walk over to Eric who has so graciously saved you a seat.

“Damn, looks like you have a thing for literally running into guys who like you,” Eric teases once you sit down.

“Shut up, I wasn’t paying attention,” you nudge his arm slightly before pulling out your supplies for the class.

Eric only hums in response, eyes twinkling in amusement, to which you roll your own. You barely know Jimin, it’s not like that at all.

Meanwhile, Jimin stands outside in the hallway for a few more moments, thinking over the past two interactions he’s had with you. You’ve definitely caught his eye, especially since you didn’t throw yourself at him the first chance you saw him, or talked to him for that matter. You actually treated him like a person, not some prodigal son from the Park family.

He begins to make his way to the snack area to grab the drink he originally came out to get, thinking over what he felt when he touched you. He could feel the slight guilt and annoyance that comes with bumping into someone, but once you saw it was him, your feelings shifted. He could sense the curiosity and slight nervousness in you, as well as intrigue. Just like the first time he bumped into you, though this time, you got shy.

Entering the classroom once more after he’s gotten his drink, a smile tugs at his lips. Maybe you like him like he’s starting to like you. He doesn’t know much about you, and you don’t know much about him, but you don’t seem to hold any high expectations of him. He doesn’t even know what kind of powers you possess, and he doesn’t want to be rude and just straight up ask you. He hates it when people do that to him, and he hates it even more that he has to lie every time.

Jimin, although coming from a powerful family of Powers, has what his parents consider a ‘weak’ power. He’s able to feel and understand a person’s emotions when touching them. Everything they feel, he feels, if he’s touching them, that is. However, his family doesn’t consider being an empath anything extraordinary, so he’s been told to hide what he is, to be ashamed.

This is why he hates when people expect so much of him, or are only friends with him cause of his name. His family is nothing special, just a bunch of entitled Powers who think they’re better than everyone else. He only really has one real friend, and that’s Taehyung, who luckily, also goes to this academy. This is also why he likes you so much already. He knows you won’t treat him any different than anyone else just because of his family name.

He’s used to it by now, though, so he’s able to play along with the people who only give him attention due to his name. It does get tiring, pretending all the time, but that’s why he’s so intrigued with you. He feels as if he’ll never need to pretend with you, as crazy as that sounds. What he does know, is that he wants to get closer to you, and maybe, just maybe, take you out sometime. The first step, is becoming your friend.

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung jokes once Jimin returns to his seat before the start of class, successfully pulling the aforementioned boy out of his thoughts. “Saw you ran into that girl that’s caught your eye, how’d that go?”

Jimin lets out a small sigh at the suggestive wiggle of Taehyung’s eyebrows, “I’ve only just met her, Tae. We just happened to bump into each other again.”

“Right, and that’s the reason you haven’t taken your eyes off of her since you’ve sat down,” Taehyung nudges him with his elbow.

At this, Jimin’s eyes widen. He hadn’t noticed he’d been staring at you, for his gaze naturally drifted towards where you’re sitting with your one guy friend. Well, he only hopes he’s just a friend.

“Do you know anything about her?” Jimin inquires, sitting up straighter as he watches you laugh at something the boy beside you has said.

“Just the same as you, that her name is (Y/n), and she’s been going to this academy for a few years,” Taehyung shrugs. “I know the guy that’s sitting beside her is Eric, he’s in one of my morning classes.”

Jimin simply hums in response, attention now being drawn to the front at the arrival of the professor. His mind begins to wander again as the professor introduces their course content for the semester. He has one more class after this, and he hopes that it’s also with you, so he can get another chance to talk with you, and try and become closer with you. He’s just in the middle of wondering what powers you possess when the prof’s words manage to pull him out of his thoughts.

“There will be a final assignment this term, of which you will work in pairs and give a presentation on what you’ve researched at the end of the semester,” at the shifting and murmurs starting up in the room, the professor continues, “I will be picking your partners, so you should all look forward to working with someone new. The sooner you know your partner and your topic, the better, hence why I will be assigning the groups before the end of class. I expect a topic to be chosen by Monday next week, that way you have the weekend to discuss with your partner what you’d like to work on from the approved topics. Have two backups ready incase you don’t get your first choice.”

You let out a sigh as you jot down ‘Monday, topic due’ for this class. You wonder who your partner will be, and unfortunately, you don’t think you’ll be lucky enough to get partnered with Eric.

Since the start of class, you’ve been zoning out everyone’s thoughts, wanting to not only practice this skill, but also not have to listen to everyone thinking at once. You’re glad you learned this technique last year, now, you only need to perfect it.

Soon enough, it nears the end of class and the prof starts calling out the partners for the final assignment. They explained that the final is worth eighty percent of your entire grade, the other twenty percent on attendance and participation. This only causes your anxiety to skyrocket, hating that your mark weighs heavily on one thing only. You just hope you get paired with someone decent and who doesn’t slack off.

“Eric and Taehyung,” they call, followed by, “(Y/n) and Jimin.”

At this, some heads turn to face you while some turn to face Jimin. You glance over to see he’s already staring at you with a smile on his face, so you send him one back. At least it’s someone you’ve actually met before, albeit briefly.

Class ends shortly after the last names are called, and you notice Jimin and his friend heading towards you and Eric.

“Hey,” Jimin greets you once they’re close enough.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” you joke, and you notice his friend grinning at your response.

“I’m Taehyung, by the way, and I believe you’re my partner,” he says, turning to look at Eric beside you.

“I’m Eric, nice to meet you,” Eric nods in greeting.

The two of them start to talk about class and the project, Eric calling an ‘I’ll see you next class’ over his shoulder as he walks down the hall with Taehyung.

“Damn, they really hit it off,” you laugh, gathering the last of your things and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“No kidding,” Jimin replies, letting out a huff of amusement. “So, partners?”

“Well, yeah,” you grin, “we kind of have to be.”

“True, true,” he hums as the two of you make your way out into the hall. “What’s your next class?”

“I’ve got practical training with Eric, what about you?” You reply, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.

“History of mutations, upper year one,” he tells you, to which you nod.

“I have that in the mornings with Jihyo,” you say.

“Here, how about we exchange numbers so we can talk about this assignment more when we’re both free,” he suggests, and you don’t need to hear his thoughts to see the hope shining in his eyes.

You giggle, “sure.”

Stepping to the side of the hallway, you both input your numbers into the other’s phone. Checking the time on your phone once you get it back, your eyes widen slightly. You’ve only got three minutes to get to class now, so you wave goodbye to Jimin and head on your way.

Jimin watches your form disappear around the corner with a sigh. He was hoping that you two would have the last class of the day together as well, but it looks like luck isn’t on his side. Oh well, at least he has your number now.

That night, you receive a text from Jimin asking you if you’re free Saturday to possibly discuss the project in full. You agree without question, letting him know that the sooner you get this done, the better.

Saturday comes and you end up meeting Jimin in the little café by the school gardens. It’s a beautiful day so you both decide to sit outside and enjoy the sunshine before the weather takes a turn for the worse.

Luckily, the two of you manage to decide on a topic pretty quickly, and choosing your two backups is a breeze. So far, the two of you have been sitting by the rose bushes for almost two hours now, falling into a natural conversation after deciding on what you’ll do for your project.

The whole time, Jimin watches you speak with a twinkle in his eyes. He can tell you’re not afraid of being honest with him and actually talking to him instead of trying to impress him like so many others. He enjoys getting to know you, and he likes how you listen to what he has to say, and actually respond to it instead of just agreeing with everything like so many others.

While you’ve been talking, you’ve also been working hard to maintain your silence in your head, making sure not to allow any stray thoughts from anyone into your mind. You’re pretty proud of yourself, so far, you’ve been able to maintain it and not give yourself a headache. Granted, there aren’t too many people around thinking loudly, which you couldn’t be more grateful for.

From what you’ve observed of Jimin so far, you can tell he’s a bit more reserved than he wants people to think. This only makes you think he’s hiding something, but his business is his own and he seems like a decent guy, so it can’t be anything bad. Maybe he’s just a shy person underneath everything. Either way, you enjoy spending time with him.

Currently, he’s nodding along intently to everything you have to say, eyes trailing over your face occasionally. He enjoys watching you, noting all the little quirks you have when you tell a story. He can’t even help himself when his eyes begin to drift towards your lips, wondering how they’d feel against his own, and if it’d be too early to make a move. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t register the small shift in your voice.

“Oh, hi Jimin!” A voice interrupts you mid-sentence as you’re telling Jimin about your first year at the academy.

He turns his head, and you notice his eyes droop slightly in recognition, though his fake smile fools the girl easily enough, “oh, hi Sharen.”

“I saw you sitting by the roses and I just knew I had to come say hello,” she giggles, twirling a strand of her hair with her finger.

Checking your phone for the time, you shift uncomfortably. Sharen is one of the most popular Powers of the school. She has the ability to control plants, of which you were envious of in first year, before you got to know how rude she is to everyone who doesn’t have an elemental power.

“Oh shit, it’s getting late,” you say, your chair making a small scraping noise as you push it back to stand up. “I better get going.”

“No, wait, (Y/n),” Jimin goes to stop you, but Sharen gets in his way.

“It was nice talking with you, let me know when you’re free to work more on the project,” you shoot him a tight smile before rushing off, not wanting to remain under her scrutinizing gaze any longer.

Jimin hardly gets to watch you leave as Sharen steps into his line of vision once more, going on and on about something he really doesn’t care about. He sits back in his chair, defeated, but also irritated at Sharen for interrupting such a nice time he was having with you. Now, he zones her out, thinking about you, and how this evening could have went instead.

Maybe he could have invited you back to his dorm to watch a movie, getting to know each other more. He was hoping to at least graze your arm and get a sense of how you feel around him, but it looks like that will have to wait for a while longer. Even though he’s only known you for about a week, he can tell he’s starting to fall, and fall hard.

Instead, in order to keep up the appearance he’s created for himself, he watches Sharen, now in your spot ramble on about how powerful and in control of her powers she is. He nearly rolls his eyes at this, for he couldn’t care less. He hears enough of this shit at home.

Using the same strategy you just did, he checks his phone, but instead, he acts like he’s gotten a text from his parents. He goes to leave, but Sharen grabs his arm and he hates how he can suddenly feel her emotions. She’s disappointed, but also curious, not to mention interested in him. That much is clear even without him being an empath.

“You know, I’m here for you Jimin,” she says, attempting to be sincere but coming across as fake as she is to everyone else. “If you ever need somebody, for any reason, anything at all, I’m here.”

He nearly shivers in disgust at the shift in emotions he feels come from her, as well as the double meaning of her words. He’d rather stick a thorn in palm of his hand, and then set it on fire.

Still, he politely thanks her before taking off back to his dorm room for the evening. Appearances are everything, or so he’s been conditioned to believe. If you can’t make friends of your enemies, you’ll never be able to get far in this life.

The next month passes by fairly quickly, and before you know it, midterms have arrived. Luckily for you, both you and Jimin managed to get your first topic choice for your project, so you’re grateful for that. You’ve been meeting every Saturday for an hour or two to discuss the project and do some research on your topic, and you’ve both grown closer during this time.

You’ve caught some of his stray thoughts around you when he begins to think too loudly, and even though you do your best to block him out, it doesn’t work. Some thoughts just want to be heard, not to mention the ones that people want you to hear. Though, you doubt he wants you to hear him thinking about kissing you, or even giving you a lingering hug. It’s just a simple crush, at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

He hasn’t made any type of move yet, so you can safely say you’re not leading him on. Nor have you given him false hope, for you’ve never really talked about relationships before, and you’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. Besides, you can tell Sharen has the hots for him, and the last thing you need is to become the target for her incessant bullying by ‘getting in her way.’

Speaking of Sharen, she seems to always appear wherever you and Jimin are working. Whether it be the garden café on the last few nicer days of the season, the library, or even the mess hall, she has a habit of showing up either in the middle of your research sessions, or near the end. One time she even turned up right at the beginning and you couldn’t even get any work done.

She always has a way of getting into your head, and every time, you can hear her spewing insults and laughing at you. It’s getting quite tiresome, honestly, having to deal with her throwing herself at Jimin, and acting like a child. It doesn’t take a telepath like you to know how uncomfortable he is when she shows up. Unfortunately, she cannot take a hint.

Jimin, for one, could not be happier about spending more time with you. He knows all this time spent with one another is only making what he feels for you stronger. He really wants to ask you what your power is, since he still doesn’t know, but he holds off ever time. He’ll wait until you’re ready, he doesn’t want to push your trust.

However, every time Sharen comes along he gets closer and closer to blowing his facade. She makes him so irritable, and he hates being able to feel her attraction to him grow every time she touches him. He swears that she’s become obsessed.

The final straw for him is when she follows him back to his dorm room one evening despite the fact that he’s told her he has an important call with his parents. He sent a text to Taehyung while heading back to his room just in case, using the pretence of texting his parents to make sure Sharen didn’t suspect anything.

Once he gets to his room, he tells her, somewhat through gritted teeth, that he needs to be alone now. He opens his door only to be pushed into his room by her, and he shudders at the lust he feels seeping through her skin.

“Okay, I’m going to be level with you,” she begins, holding his wrists in her hands as she pins him to the wall, “I’ve had my eyes on you since the minute you walked into this goddamn academy, and for some reason, you’ve ignored every single fucking advance I’ve made. I want you, but you don’t want me. Why is that?”

He figures it’s a rhetorical question, but he answers anyways, “I’m sorry, Sharen, I don’t like you in that way. I think you’re a nice girl, but-“

“But what?” She nearly shrieks, grip tightening on his wrists. “Am I not good enough for you? For the mighty Park,” the way she spits his family’s name makes him cringe.

“No, that’s not it,” he shakes his head, counting the seconds that tick by the longer she has him in her hold.

“Then what is it? Huh?” She tilts her head, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me someone else has caught your eye, I’m the hottest piece of ass in this place.” He remains quiet, and he can feel her anger and jealousy before they flash in her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that bitch, what was her name again…” she takes a moment to think, which only causes Jimin’s own anger to flare, “oh yeah, (Y/n). That good for nothing, bitch.”

“She’s better than you,” he snaps, eyes narrow as he glares at her.

“Excuse me,” she seethes, face contorting in anger.

“You heard me,” he spits back. “Now, get off of me.”

“I don’t think so,” she smirks, stepping closer to his body and pushing him further into the wall.

“You’re going to loosen your grip and let go of him slowly while backing away,” a deep voice breaks through the tension in the room.

Turning his head, Jimin nods in thanks to Taehyung as he uses his hypnotic voice on Sharen. Her eyes glaze over and she does what she’s been told.

“Thanks man,” Jimin says, rubbing his now red wrists to ease some of the pain in them. “I had a feeling she was going to try something.”

“Come on, let’s go tell the dean,” Taehyung motions down the hallway with his head, turning to Sharen in the next moment to instruct her what to do next while he still has her in a trance. “You’re going to come with us and tell the dean what you’ve done, and what you’ve said here tonight.”

Almost robotically, she nods her head, slowly walking out of the room and leading the way to the dean’s office. The two boys follow behind her, silently conversing with each other the whole way about what they’re going to do once they reach the office. Jimin already has a plan in mind, and he just hopes he can pull it off.

About a week ago, he remembers you saying something about the room across from yours remaining vacant for the school year. If he plays his cards right, he’s hoping to be able to move rooms. That way, he can be closer to you.

The next morning, you’re awoken to the sounds of something being moved outside your dorm room. Groggily getting out of bed to see what the commotion is all about, you open your door. It takes a moment to register that the door to the room across from yours is open, and a figure can be seen moving stuff around on the inside while some suitcases still reside in the hallway.

“Oh, good morning (Y/n),” Jimin says, shooting you a smile once he sees you standing in your doorway looking at him through sleepy eyes.

“Jimin? Is that you? What’s going on?” You rub your eyes, thinking you’re still dreaming, considering you swear you’ve heard Jimin’s voice in your head echoing the word beautiful a few times.

“You would not believe the night I’ve had,” he chuckles, grabbing his last few suitcases and rolling them into his new room.

“I really can’t even try and guess what could have possibly happened,” you say through a yawn. “What made you change rooms?”

“Well,” he pauses, taking a moment to look down the hallway to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “Sharen assaulted me last night.”

At his words, your eyes fling open, “oh my god, are you okay?”

“Fine, now, thank you,” he smiles faintly at your concern. “Luckily, it was only her grabbing my wrists and acting intimidating. Also lucky I sent a text to my friend Taehyung that she was giving me bad vibes and to come rescue me.”

“Lucky indeed,” you nod. “Still, why the sudden change of rooms?”

“Well, I felt uncomfortable staying in a room where she knows is located, considering what she did last night,” he says, and you nod once more in understanding.

“Yeah, that’s true,” you agree, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean against the doorframe. “Do you need any help unpacking?”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t possibly bother you any more than I have,” he replies, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind keeping you some company,” you smile reassuringly at him. “Especially after the night you’ve had.”

“Only if you want to,” he replies, a blush rising to his cheeks as he thinks about you finally being in his room, even if it’s one he hasn’t even slept in himself yet.

“Sure, let me put on a sweater first,” you send him another smile before retreating back into your room to grab the aforementioned item of clothing. Not even a minute later, you’re exiting your dorm room and crossing the threshold into his. “Did you want me to close the door?”

“It’s up to you,” he replies, placing books on his desk. He wants you to decide what you’re most comfortable with, though he’d prefer it if you closed the door.

It’s like you read his thoughts, for he hears the soft click of the door closing in the next moment. He smirks to himself. Finally, he’s alone with you in his room.

You opted to close the door to give him some privacy from anyone who could walk down the hallway. You figure he probably doesn’t want people snooping in his business, considering the night he’s had. You also make sure to put your mind barrier up before anything else, just in case he has some stray thoughts. You don’t want to invade his privacy.

“Well, at least this’ll make it easier for when we want to work on our assignment,” you joke, successfully lightening the mood as you hear him let out a laugh.

“For sure,” he smiles. “Just so you know, you’re welcome in my room anytime.”

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile of your own. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that you offer to help him unpack once more, but he insists you simply keep him company. Sighing while shaking your head, you climb onto his unmade bed and sit against the wall. The two of you continue to make conversation with each other as he unpacks, and before you know it, it’s lunchtime.

Jimin suggests getting lunch together, but you politely decline. After all, you have some assignments you need to get done for tomorrow, plus you want to take a nap. You’re still tired from being woken up so early this morning. However, you fail to see the small pout that resides on his lips as you exit his room to retreat back into your own.

The next month flies by just as the previous one did, during which time the whole school found out about Sharen assaulting Jimin. Needless to say, she’s no longer in with the popular crowd. You’ve grown closer to Jimin still, but you’ve noticed his thoughts have become more prominent every time you’re with him, and they always seem to concern you. You do your best to block them out, but it’s as if he wants everyone to hear them. There’s no way he knows about your powers, at least, you don’t think so. However, you can never know for sure.

It’s currently Friday afternoon, and you’re sitting in your class which you share with both Eric and Jimin. You, as usual, sit beside Eric for the class, and the two of you are discussing plans for next weekend, seeing as it will be Jihyo’s birthday.

Jimin cannot help but glare at Eric as he makes you laugh once more, gripping his pencil so hard that it snaps. He’s been finding that he grows jealous easily over you lately, and he knows he should ask you out soon, before it gets out of hand. He can’t help the dark thoughts that crawl into his mind, especially at night, whispering that only he should be able to have you to himself. Nobody else deserves you, and no one else understands him like you do. You’re the only one for him, the only person he can envision a happy future with.

“Woah, dude, are you okay?” Taehyung’s voice manages to pull Jimin out of his ever consuming thoughts about you.

“Fine,” Jimin clears his throat, grabbing a new pencil out of his bag as he tosses the now broken one away.

“You don’t seem fine,” his best friend quirks a brow, gaze drifting in the direction Jimin’s is in to see what has his attention. “Ah, I see. Trouble in paradise?”

“I’m not in the mood to be teased right now, Taehyung,” Jimin says, clearly irritated.

“What? She reject you?” Taehyung muses, and that thought alone nearly sets Jimin off, yet he manages to remain calm. His emotions are all over the place lately, and he has a feeling he knows why.

You’ve been subtly pulling away from Jimin since the beginning of the week. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, and he can’t figure out why you’ve been avoiding him. It doesn’t help that you’ve been hanging around with your friends more than usual. Only he deserves your attention, and now that you’re barely giving him any, he wants it all.

You’re scheduled to finish up the final touches on your project tomorrow with him, and he just hopes you don’t rush out. He wants to know what he did so he can fix it. He wants you.

The next twenty-four hours feel like absolute agony to him, for they pass by extremely slow. You’re supposed to come to his room around six to finish up the project, and he can hardly wait. He grabbed some food earlier just incase you’re hungry when you come over. Even if it’s in the smallest ways, he wants you to know that he’s thinking of you, that he can provide for you and take care of you.

At long last, a knock sounds at his door at six o’clock, and he practically springs off of his bed to let you into his room. Just like the first time he saw you, you manage to take his breath away. You’re so beautiful, and soon, you’ll be all his.

“Hey, you ready to finish this monster?” You smirk, stepping into his room with your laptop held in your arms.

“More than you could ever believe,” he responds, and he smiles as he hears you laugh.

“Oh, come on, I can’t be that horrible to work with, can I?” You tease, and he tenses slightly as the door falls shut.

Is that what you think? Is that the reason you’ve been avoiding him? Do you think he’ll want nothing to do with you once you’ve finished this assignment? To him, the idea is preposterous, but doubt starts to cloud his mind. He would never let you go again if he got the option, but he needs to make you his first, and let you know that he’ll always want you. You, and only you.

“Of course not!” He replies, eyes wide. “You’ve been the best partner I could have hoped for!”

“Phew,” you wipe imaginary sweat off of your forehead in mock relief, “and here I was, worried for nothing.”

The two of you share a laugh, smiles on both your faces until Jimin breaks the small silence that’s settled over the two of you.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to stay and watch a movie or something after we’re finished?” he asks, suddenly nervous you’ll say no. “You know, as a sort of celebration for completing the assignment?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, a soft smile gracing your features. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great!” Comes out a little bit too enthusiastically, which has him clearing his throat in the next moment, “shall we, then?”

“We shall,” you reply with a nod, and in the next moment, the two of you are sitting around his desk finishing off the final touches of your presentation.

About an hour passes by and you lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head as you let out a groan. Jimin can’t help but glance down at the small piece of skin that gets revealed to him near your stomach when you do this. He licks his lips and swallows hard.

“Well, that should do it!” You grin, letting your hands fall to your lap as you turn your gaze to him.

“I’m so glad we’re done!” He mirrors your grin.

“Ugh, an I ever tired,” you groan, standing up from your chair only to flop on top of his bed.

“Me too,” he says, joining you on the bed.

He lays on his side, staring at your figure as your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. So badly he wants to reach over and cup your cheek with his hand, leaning over to kiss you to celebrate a job well done. He settles on memorizing your features for now.

“You got any snacks, I’m starving,” you say, sitting up in order to shift your position to leaning against the wall.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he shakes his head, seemingly distracted.

Standing up, he pops open his mini-fridge as well as a small cupboard filled with various foods and drinks. He notices your expression of awe and can’t help but smile. A warmth fills his chest at knowing he’s made you speechless, in a good way. Of which he hopes to do many times tonight, and throughout the rest of your lives.

“Are those what I think they are?” You gasp, hopping off the bed to pull out a familiar red package which contains your favourite snacks from when you were a kid. Your eyes sparkle with nostalgia as you rip open the package, “gosh, I haven’t had these since I was a kid. My parents would always take me and my brother to the cottage in the summer and would buy these for us for the car ride.”

“You have a brother?” He inquires, face reflecting the surprise he feels. In all the weeks you’ve been getting to know each other, you’ve not once mentioned having a brother.

Immediately, your expression falls, “yeah.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess that might be a tender subject for you, given that you haven’t mentioned him before,” Jimin says, face showing clear concern for you at how sad you look all of a sudden. He lets the door to the fridge fall shut.

“No, it’s okay,” you shake your head, lips twitching upwards briefly. “It’s not like he’s dead.”

You take a seat on the edge of his bed, snacks still held in your hand. You lean forwards slightly, staring at the floor.

“What happened?” He sits beside you, close, but not too close. “If you’re okay with telling me, of course.”

“I haven’t heard from him or my parents since they dropped my off here at school,” you begin, biting your lower lip. “Ever since they found out I had powers, they’ve treated me differently. They’re nice enough to my face and for appearances sake, but they always treat him better. He’s the normal one in a normal family. He got into a good school, kept good grades, always did what they wanted him to. They always cared more about him than me, and he knows it. He knows he’s better than me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that’s not true,” he places a gentle hand on your shoulder in comfort, and he’s hit with a wave of emotions. Sadness, anger, bitterness, resentment.

“It is, though. He’s told me so himself,” you chuckle humourlessly as tears dot your vision. You don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over your family all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because you’ve kept it all bottled up inside since you’ve been dropped off at school this year. You continue, “my parents thought I was crazy when I was a child. So much so that they shamed me for the power I developed, and I don’t like having it. I’m not normal to them, I’m a mistake.”

“You are not a mistake,” his voice is soft, comforting, as his hand draws small circles on your back. He can feel your sadness growing with each passing second, and he’ll do anything to cheer you up, but he doesn’t know how. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and caring, both inside and out. I’m glad I met you, for I feel like you’re the only one who truly knows me, and sees me for who I am. You’re special, and you shouldn’t let anyone take that away from you.”

You send him a weak smile, “thanks Jimin, thats very sweet of you.��

“And hey, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he takes a deep breath, “I’ve known my power since I was eight, but my parents were so ashamed it wasn’t a power like theirs that they shamed me into hiding it from others. People expect so much from me because of my family, but I’m just me. Just like you’re just you, and you shouldn’t change a goddamn thing about yourself because to me, you’re perfect.”

“Jimin, I’m so sorry,” you meet his gaze, and he can sense the slight shift in your emotions at his words. “Your parents are wrong. I’m sure your power is wonderful no matter what it is.”

“Empathy,” a small smile tugs at his lips. “I’m an empath.”

“That’s perfect,” you smile at him, and his heart soars. “How does it-“

“Work?” He finishes for you, and at seeing your curious nod, he continues, “through touch. When I touch someone, I can feel exactly what they’re feeling.”

“Oh,” you say, glancing at where his hand is, now touching your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, it was more for comfort than wanting to know what you were feeling,” he assures you, and you nod slowly.

You meet his gaze once more, “thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for telling me about your brother,” he replies, staring deeply into your eyes.

He can feel your emotions changing, the sadness becoming drowned out by a feeling of comfort and calm, but also, nervousness. He wants to pry deeper, to know everything you’re feeling in this moment, but he dwells at the surface, not wanting to overstep his boundaries at the moment. The two of you have just shared an intimate, emotional experience with each other, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

His heart nearly beats out of his chest when he notices you glance down at his lips. He can feel the curiosity growing in you, the spark of interest, and he cannot let this opportunity go to waste. This is his chance, and he takes it.

Slowly, so as not to scare you away, he trails his hand to your lower back, shifting closer to you ever so slightly. He begins to lean in, and he can feel the anticipation building within you. Your eyes flutter closed.

The moment his lips meet yours, it feels as if fireworks are igniting within his entire body. The feeling of your lips against his feels so natural, so right, that he never wants it to end. He pulls you closer, bringing his other hand up to cup your cheek gently, stroking his thumb over your skin. This is all he’s ever dreamed of, and more.

Deepening the kiss, he hears the snack bag in your hands fall to the floor, pushing you back onto his bed as he settles on top of you. His heart races in his chest and he has to pull away to catch his breath. Staring deeply into your eyes, he smiles, diving in for another kiss, much more heated this time around.

The two of you lay there for a few minutes, simply letting your lips explore the other. He can’t help but smirk at the gasp you let out when you feel him bite down on your neck, nibbling softly on the skin. He wants to mark you all over tonight, and make sure that when everyone sees the marks he’s left on you, they know that you’re his.

He pulls away, and he can sense some hesitance on your part, reluctance swirling beneath the surface of your skin that’s come on so suddenly. He parts from your body when he feels your hands on his chest pushing him off of you, confusion evident on his face.

Rolling onto his side, concern crosses his features as he watches you get up from his bed. Immediately, he sits up, thinking he’s done something to upset you when all he wants is for you to be back in his arms.

“(Y/n), I-“

“I should really go,” you cut him off before he can say anything else. “It’s late. Goodnight.”

With that, you’re grabbing your laptop and exiting his room without a single glance back at him.

To say Jimin is stunned would be an understatement. He thought things were going well between the two of you and that opening up to each other was a sign you trusted one another. He thought you were making progress, he thought you were finally becoming his.

A groan of frustration escapes his lips as he falls back onto his pillow. For a fleeting minute, you were his, laying beneath him, letting out the cutest sounds for him, and only him. Yet something, something scared you away.

Maybe he moved too fast at first, or was expecting too much from you. God, he’d never force you into anything like that. Never in a million years; he’d hate himself if that ever happened. He just hopes that you know that.

Letting out a sigh, he stares at his ceiling. Sleep won’t come easily to him tonight, not with these thoughts of you racing through his head, and most certainly not when only minutes ago he had you in his bed, beneath him, kissing you.

He closes his eyes, recalling the soft feel of your lips against his, the way you tasted. How he wishes it could have lasted longer, that he could have shown you exactly how he feels for you. So badly he wants you to know that you’re the only one for him, the only one he loves, the only one he’ll ever love.

He lets his mind wander, allowing for images of how the night could have went to fill his mind and take over his senses until the only thing he can think of, is you.

Meanwhile, you quickly get ready for bed once you’re back in your own room, making sure to double check the lock on your door before sliding underneath the covers. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at your ceiling, recalling exactly the moment that made you hightail and book it out of Jimin’s room.

Your mental block was up, but it began to slip the longer Jimin kissed you, causing you to lose your grip on reality. Just as you were getting ready to let the barricade drop, seeing as you trusted him, a wave of possessive thoughts entered your mind.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. The darkness you felt surrounding his thoughts scared you. Never have you heard, or felt, anything like it before. You worried for yourself and what he might have done once he actually got you to himself. You’re not even dating, and he’s having these kinds of thoughts where just a glimpse at them has you running away.

Now, you’re pulled out of your own thoughts about the matter when you hear your name being whispered in your mind. It sounds like Jimin, and you have no idea how he’s managed to penetrate your walls.

You concentrate, focussing on strengthening your mental blockade, and it works for a few minutes until another call of your name breaks through. Furrowing your brow, you wonder how he’s managing to do such a thing, for you know he’s not a telepath, and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t know that you’re one.

With each passing moment, you can feel his thoughts getting louder, getting stronger, and you are horrified all the same. Your eyes are wide open as you can hear his thoughts clear as day, ringing through your head, painting a vivid portrait of what he’s imagining.

Doing you best to block out the images, your heart pounds. One second you see yourself beneath him with your arms around his shoulders and your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolls his hips into yours. The next, your hands are bound to the bed frame as he eats you out, a blindfold covering your eyes. Soon, another image of you riding him slowly, sensually, fills your mind, his praises following shortly after.

You can hear each and every thought he has during these moments, overcome with the need to make you his. To show the world that you belong to him, and only him. A shudder of disgust runs down your spine as you hear him think about how he’ll be able to feel your pleasure through touching you during these times, only increasing his own pleasure at the same time.

His thoughts demand to be heard, to be seen, and no matter how hard you try to block them out, you can’t.

You can tell he’s come after a few minutes, for the vivid images have finally stopped, and now he’s thinking about basking in your afterglow. Luckily, you’re able to block him out now, but the damage has been done.

His thoughts screamed his love for you, but what you felt was not love. It is obsession, a need to possess you and keep you all to himself. You need to keep away from him, before this situation becomes worse than it already is. And to think, all of this was just because you were nice to him and treated him like a regular person.

Finally, you manage to get some sleep, but your dreams are filled with nightmares of Jimin always chasing you and never being able to let you go. To say you don’t sleep well would be an understatement.

For the entire week, you manage to avoid him. Rushing off when you see him approaching you in the hallways, and ignoring his calls. Even the students have started whispering about it, wondering why anyone could ever ignore Park Jimin, the nicest guy in school. However, you know the truth, that beneath that facade is a dark monster lurking beneath the surface, waiting to strike.

To Jimin, that week feels like an eternity of agony. He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding him, and it drives him crazy. Every time he sees you giving your attention to someone who is not him, someone undeserving of you, it causes his blood to boil. That should be him you’re giving all your attention to, not anyone else.

Your presentation is in a few days’ time, which worries you. You know you have to practice in order to get a good mark, and you’ll have to make sure you both have your facts down. At least after this, you can avoid him for good.

The whole time you practise the presentation with him in the library the night before the presentation, you expect him to confront you about what happened in his room the last time the two of you saw each other. As much as it pains him though, he’s decided to let you approach the subject first. He doesn’t want to push you away, nor make you run away from him again. If you go back to ignoring him after your presentation, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

Soon enough, your presentation comes and goes, and the two of you end up getting the best mark in the class, of which you could not be happier about. You notice Jimin still looking gloomy, and he scowls when he sees you hug Eric out of happiness. He’s getting tired of waiting for you to go to him. No matter, he has a plan in mind, and in order to set it in motion, he’ll need to make a few calls.

That evening, a knock on your door pulls you out of the notes you’re currently reviewing. Standing up, you stretch briefly before moving over to see who could be at your door at this time of night. Opening your door reveals Jimin standing there with his jaw clenched, clearly not happy.

“I need to talk to you,” he says, not even giving you a chance to respond before barging into your room.

“Jimin, what the hell, you can’t just barge into my room like this,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest as the door falls shut.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He cuts straight to the point, turning around to face you, eyes dark as he meets your gaze.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” comes your reply, but your voice is a little too tense for your statement to be true.

“Yes, you have,” he counters, mirroring your stance. “I was worried about you, so I did some digging. Normally I don’t like using my status to do these things but you left me no choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your brow furrows.

“You’re a telepath,” he states, and you’re caught off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“I looked into you, found out everything I could,” he says, taking a step towards you to close the distance between your bodies, only for you to take a step back yourself. “I know where you were born, where you grew up, everything about your family, even your power which you hide from everyone. But now? Now I understand why you’ve been avoiding me. Well, partially. While doing my research I happened to find out that you’ve been practicing mental blocks, so I looked into it. Turns out, if you experience high emotions, or if another person in close range experiences high emotions, it can penetrate that defence occasionally.”

“What are you implying here?” You frown, taking another step back as he takes another forwards.

“You know exactly what I’m getting at,” he smirks as your back hits the wall. “Obviously, despite your mental block, you’ve overheard some of my thoughts about you, though I don’t know why you don’t like them. I don’t like playing this card, but I’m a fairly desirable man with a powerful family, and I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I only want for you to become mine.”

“What makes you think I’ll agree,” you reply, eyes narrowed slightly at him. “I don’t care about any of that.”

“That’s exactly why I love you,” he hums, amused. “I knew you were going to say that, and I also knew you wouldn’t agree willingly. So, I made some more calls. Turns out I’m getting to that age where my parents think it’s best for me to get engaged, and who better to have as a daughter-in-law to my parents than a simple girl who came from a regular family. Humbles the Park family in the public eye while simultaneously keeping up appearances. Shows we’re not so narrow-minded about Powers. Besides, it’s the least they can do for me after the hell they’ve subjected me to.”

“I will never marry you, you’re delusional,” you say, leaning your head as far away from him as you can as he presses himself against you, successfully pinning you to the wall.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” his grin turns sinister. “Your parents have already agreed to the arrangement, and there’s going to be an announcement in the morning about our engagement. Who’s going to believe you, anyways? Everyone knows me as the kind son and heir of the Park family. You’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

“I can’t believe you,” you swallow the lump that’s in your throat.

“No, no, don’t be scared, baby,” he coos, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek. “I would never hurt you, I love you too much.”

“You really expect me to love you after all of this? Forcing me into a marriage I don’t want?” You seethe, pushing him off of you and causing him to stumble back a few paces.

“You’ll warm up to it eventually,” he chuckles, “and in time, you’ll be consumed by my love just as I’ve been consumed by you. Now, let’s go to bed, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. After all, soon the whole world is going to know that you’re going to be my wife.”

#part of the BTS dark & wild series #yandere bts #yandere jimin #yandere kpop #yandere au #yandere #bts au #bts scenario #kpop #kpop au #jimin scenario #park jimin

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

Text

Ghost Guitar Battle (2/3)

((Part 2 of I have no impulse control and squirreled on this random idea, ignoring those asks in my inbox. Don’t @ me this concept is fuckin awesome if only to me.))

Part 1 here.

Part 3 here.

Warnings: mentions of mind control.

...

12 days ago

“You what?”

Julie was pretty sure she was hallucinating, because this was something she had honestly never expected to happen.

Sure, there were days when she missed this certain ex-friend, but she’d never expected her to actually let go of her ego long enough for something like this to happen.

Carrie sighed before repeating herself, “I need your help.”

“Oh, we heard you,” Flynn said, “We’re just trying to think of reasons why we would ever help you with anything.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Flynn.”

“It concerns Julie, so it concerns me. Why would either of us ever help you with anything?”

“Because I’m not asking for myself,” Carrie snapped, “It’s about Nick.”

...what?

Nick and Carrie had broken up weeks ago. Why would she be asking for help involving him?

“What’s up with Nick?” Julie asked.

Simultaneously, Flynn laughed out, “We’re not helping you get him back.”

“It’s not about getting him back,” she insisted, “He’s acting weird. Like, really weird. And no matter what’s gone down between us recently, I’m worried about him.”

“Have you tried talking to him about this?” Julie asked, honestly unsure what was going on.

“No, because...” Carrie made a frustrated huff, “Because have you been paying attention to him at all recently? It’s like he’s a completely different person.”

By the look Flynn was getting in her eyes, it was starting to dawn on her that Carrie was being serious about this.

Julie, for one, still wasn’t sure what to think. Truthfully, she hadn’t been paying much attention to Nick lately. She’d been pretty preoccupied with the band, with the guys now able to give hugs and stuff and be seen whenever directly touching her. Plus, there was the new weirdness of figuring out if she and Luke wanted to try out some form of dating. Honestly, that uncertainty was creeping into their songwriting, which they’d still been doing a lot of.

In short, she’d been pretty busy.

Nick had been hovering around but barely starting a real conversation lately, which was weird now that she was thinking about it, but... was that just awkwardness left over from when Julie rejected him?

“How do you mean?” she asked cautiously.

“Well for one thing, he’s actually talking to me,” Carrie explained, “Which he really hasn’t done since the breakup at all. And for another, all he does is ask about you.”

Flynn rolled her eyes, “This is weird how?”

Carrie glared at her, “It’s weird because mostly, he keeps asking if I’m mad about Julie and the Phantoms upstaging Dirty Candi. Bringing up the fact that it happened twice, as if I’m supposed to hold some kind of major grudge.”

“Okay, that’s weird,” Julie admitted.

“You don’t know the half of it. As if that’s not suspicious enough, he asked if I found your band members suspicious. Like, sure, I knew you’d only hurt him cause you’ve got a crush on your guitarist, but—“

“What?!”

“Oh honey, it’s obvious,” Flynn admitted.

Julie really, really hoped it wasn’t and Flynn and Carrie just knew because they’d known her for a long time.

“Whatever,” Carrie said strategically, “Getting back on topic, what really tipped me off is... he asked about my dad. He asked how much I knew about his past, about bands he was in before he made it big, or whatever.”

Okay, that was a big red flag, Julie had to admit. Rule #1 of being friends with Carrie had always been to make sure she knew you weren’t in it because of her dad’s fame. Bringing up Trevor at all as anything other than a dad was off limits, and would have been even more so to Nick.

If he was acting that off, Julie felt a bit guilty for not noticing.

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with him,” Carrie admitted, “But I know something is. Besides just what he’s been talking about with me, he’s been playing jazz in music class. He carries himself differently when he walks. And if nothing else, have you both seriously not noticed how much not like himself he’s been dressing the last couple days? Nick doesn’t wear that many dark colors except for dance performances.”

Wait... there was something familiar in that description.

Reggie had done a good enough impression, according to the others, that Julie and Flynn had a good idea of the style of a certain dark color-wearing, jazz-loving ghost.

A ghost with magical powers they didn’t really know the limits of.

Flynn was clearly thinking the same thing, so there was only one last decision to make.

Unfortunately, Flynn would probably hate Julie’s call on this one, but Carrie had brought this to their attention in the first place and probably deserved to be kept in the loop.

“Are you free to meet at my house after school?”

Carrie nodded, but looked kind of surprised.

Flynn also looked surprised. And mildly horrified. Julie ignored that.

“Good. And fair warning, you’ll need to get real cool with some weird stuff real quick.”

...

Now...

“So you haven’t heard from your boyfriend at all?” Carrie asked, frowning.

Alex was pacing, which meant Julie had to pace with him so that Carlos, Carrie, and Flynn could keep seeing and hearing him.

Maybe that was for the best. She was pretty anxious, too.

“Well, Willie’s not exactly my boyfriend,” Alex mumbled, “We haven’t labeled anything. And plus, he’s risking everything every time he even sees me. That’s not—“

“Alex,” Luke said pointedly, despite the fact that half the room couldn’t hear him, “Get to the point.”

“Right. No. No, I haven’t heard from him. He said Caleb was possessing Nick and he was going to try to help him and that was it. It’s been a day. I’m getting worried. This is the first time he’s really ever stood up to Caleb openly. Who knows what could happen to him because of it?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Flynn said.

She didn’t sound very certain, but she was glancing over at Carlos like she was worried this would scare him.

Julie wasn’t that worried. She knew her little brother was tough. And that he actively sought out creepy cryptid videos on YouTube.

“I mean, he’s already dead, right?” Carlos said with a shrug, “So it’s not like he can kill him again.”

Luke raised his hand, beckoning Julie over to come and grab him so the other lifers in the room could hear him.

“No, he can’t kill him, but he can hurt him.”

“Yeah, death’s not the worst thing that can happen to a person, shockingly,” Alex muttered, the worry clear in his voice.

“Wait, what does this mean for Nick?” Carrie asked, “If Caleb’s controlling him, does that make him, like, partially dead?”

That was... that was a good point.

It was just starting to fully register that Nick was really in danger.

God, he didn’t deserve that. He was in danger and it was all because he’d gotten closer with Julie.

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted, “Willie made it sound like Caleb was... shoving him down. Like, Nick’s fighting it, but he’s losing.”

“But he’ll be okay, right?” Julie asked, “Once we figure out how to get Caleb out?”

“Willie said he’s still alive in there, and he’s okay, for now. But... but the longer he stays out of control, the harder it’ll be to get Caleb out of his head.”

Despite all the differences between them, Julie could see the same anxiety she was feeling reflected in the look Flynn and Carrie exchanged.

It had already been two weeks.

All the supernatural stuff aside, that had to be a nightmare, to be out of control of your own mind and body.

“He must be so scared in there,” Julie muttered.

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder so he’d be visible, “And we lost our inside man, so we don’t even know what’s going on in there now.”

Luke smacked him upside the head, “Dude, not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Carlos perked up suddenly, which was... alarming.

Julie knew that look. It was the look he got right before he was about to say something that in all likelihood would cause trouble.

“Do you think we should call Ryan and Chad?” Carrie asked quietly.

“Oh, how would that go?” Flynn shot back, “Just, ‘sorry, your son is under the control of an evil ghost and we don’t know how to get him out?’ That’s a great thing to tell a parent.”

“How long do you think it’s going to take them to notice something’s up on their own, Flynn? Sure, Lizzie needs more attention than Nick does, but he’s still their son and it’s only a matter of time. Heck, they probably know something’s weird already and just don’t know why.”

“They probably just think he’s going through his emo phase. Why make them panic when there’s nothing they can do, anyway?”

“Wait,” Carlos said slowly, “We don’t know what’s going on in there... but what if we did?”

Carrie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, but we don’t anymore.”

“Not in the Hollywood Ghost Club,” he clarified, “In Nick’s head.”

“I applaud your out of the box thinking,” Reggie said, “But we don’t really have a way to do that.”

“We don’t. You do.”

Julie slowly started to realize what he was suggesting.

“What happens if one of you tries to go in and possess Nick while Caleb’s already in there?”

“What happens if you can drive him out?” Flynn realized, “You’d be able to just let Nick go.”

“Theoretically,” Alex admitted.

“It’s worth a try,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s risky,” Julie corrected, “What happens if you can’t push Caleb out? Would you just be stuck in there, too?”

Luke shrugged, “There’s no way to know... I’ll do it.”

“Whoa, Luke—“

“Reggie, we’re already dead,” Luke said firmly, “Nick’s not. He got pulled into this because of us. It’s our responsibility to get him out of it.”

“But why you specifically?” he argued, “Why—“

“Because unlike you and Alex, Nick and I have something in common.”

Julie wasn’t sure if he was talking about guitar or her.

Either way, he had a point. She didn’t like the idea of the risk, but she couldn’t see another option that possibly ended in getting everyone back.

“You said you resisted Caleb before,” she pointed out hesitantly, “Before our Orpheum performance. At least a little.”

“Yeah, exactly. Alex and Reggie, neither of you could do that. Going in to try to get Nick out, I’m the only one that stands a chance.”

They both clearly wanted to, and honestly, Julie did, too, but none of them argued.

“Willie said Nick had a chance if he ‘dug deep enough,’” Alex said quietly, “Something about needing to not hold anything back?”

Luke nodded, “I’ll tell him. And I’ll try to find out about Willie if I get the chance.”

They were all well aware how much risk this was taking, and even Carrie seemed hesitant to send Luke into it.

Still, Julie nodded as they made eye contact.

“Make sure you both come out of this.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie and the himbos #juke #willex #it’s just in the background tho #flarrie #if you squint #nick danforth evans #julie molina #carrie wilson #flynn jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #carlos molina #ghost guitar battle #mind control tw #violet’s writing

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xoxo-ren-xoxo · 4 years

Text

smptwt as of 04/07/2020

Right. You asked for it, so you shall recieve. Below the cut is probably one of the most thought-out, in-depth, hopefully unbiased (but probably not) and above all helpful accounts of what the fuck is happening in the smplive and lunch club fandoms right now. I will be covering everything I can- but in the case that I’ve forgotten something, please let me know so I can have a crack at making an update.

Before the cut, I’d just like to link my first three posts about this same topic, covering my thoughts and the events of the last couple of months of drama. It feels so strange that I’ve made so many of these, but as long as they help people, I’ll keep making them.

Part 1: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619547090403622912/the-cscoopsmptwt-drama

Part 2: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619746266158661633/more-on-smptwt-long-post

Part 3: https://crunchy-corvid.tumblr.com/post/619886809143476225/smptwt-part-3-030620

I’d like to preface this with a huge thank you to everyone who helped me collect and compile information for this post- and those who helped censor twitter handles and edit screenshots. Without you, this post would have never been made.

Thank you to everyone on the Cancelled Heaven discord server: https://discord.gg/emrh2u

Now, onto the thing.

So we’ll start at the beginning with the easiest ‘drama’ (I hate calling it that) to cover. Charlie (slimecicle) tweeted on his second account and it caused a little upset. It’s not much but it feeds into a greater conversation that I think is relevant here:

We’ll start with Charlie’s original point, then move on to the reply. Obviously, this post was poorly timed, because everyone thought it was about the Cooper (cscoop) drama, when in reality it was just a general comment. I saw a lot of replies along the lines of ‘it’s okay you can @ cscoop’ and similar things. If you’ve read my previous posts you’ll know how I feel about the Cooper situation, but regardless, there are a few reasons why this is a Bad Take/poor interpretation of what Charlie said.

Charlie and Cooper are friends. They haven’t fallen out as far as we know. Charlie is left-wing, and definately doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be friends with someone who is racist/transphobic/sexist etc. So why would he be talking about Cooper in this post?

Also, Charlie is clearly talking about people who still say slurs, not people who have said slurs in the past. This is how I read it, a jab at streamers and gamers who use ‘dark humour’ to justifty their actions. A lot of people seemed to relate this to Cooper, despite him never trying to justify his use of slurs. The people who did try to justify his actions this way were fans, not the man himself. So again, this post doesn’t relate to Cooper.

On to the reply, which sparks a different conversation all together. While I see where the commenter is coming from, and agree with them to an extent, Charlie is allowed to have his own opinion on the matter. And he is right. Using insulting language against heterosexual people does create a larger divide and doesn’t get anyone on our ‘side’. It just makes us look immature and causes a lot of straight cis people to assume that we hate them.

On the other hand, I do think that saying things like ‘disgusting hets’ can be a funny joke if you are saying it to your friends who don’t have any issue with it. You probably shouldn’t get into the habit of saying things like that though, just in case you actually hurt someone with your words. Both sides of the argument have pros and cons, so anyone angry at Charlie for his opinion really have no reason to be.

Charlie’s reponse to this comment was reasonable, responsible, and mature, and he is clearly showing that he understands the concerns of his audience. This is all I’ll say about Charlie in this post. Honestly, he’s generally unproblematic and ‘safe’ to keep watching, if you enjoy a very drama-free environment. Have fun!

Now I’ll move on to Ted. He’s made some great points recently about cancel culture which I strongly agree with. Here’s his first tweets:

I don’t have much to add here, this is perfectly valid in my opinion- though I feel like sometimes you can tell a lot about a person by the people they follow. For example, if someone follows Trump, Ben Shapiro, and a bunch of right-wing youtubers, they probably agree with a lot of the things they say. But I think the point Ted is trying to make is that he shouldn’t be harassed about drama his friends fall into. If he isn’t involved, leave him out of it.

Next we’ll take a look at his tweets on stans, probably sparked by the drama with Carson, which I will be talking about later.

Again, I have no issue with what Ted is saying here. His idea is a good one, and a fun way to distinguish casual fans from people who create art, content, and (appropriate) fanfiction for the ‘flandom’!

Basically, how I see it, is that a ‘fan’ is a casual viewer who doesn’t really get involved in the flandom, maybe posting about smplive and/or lunch club occasionally, but not being too involved. A ‘flan’ is someone who interracts a lot, creates art and fiction that respects boundaries, and posts more about the boys than a casual fan does. A ‘stan’ is a stalker-fan, creepy and obsessive, too invested, maybe creates art and fiction that crosses boundaries, and obsessively posts about the boys.

I think this new terminology is really cool and Ted is smart for coming up with it (also, probably hungry when coming up with it too). I think that the term ‘stan’ should be thrown out and used to describe the ‘bad’ side of fandoms. There is a risk that people will hide behind the term ‘flan’ to disguise the fact that they are a stan, but this is still a good step foward.

But you’re not here to listen to me ramble about Ted or Charlie. You’re here for Carson. So let’s get on with it.

Carson made a series of tweets talking about stans, much like Ted did later. He seemed tired of stans harassing him about his friends, a sentiment shared by Ted (who faced very minimal backlash over his tweets). Here’s what he said:

Which is something I fully agree with. For big content creators like Carson and his friends, stan culture is absolutely insane. Recently they’ve been trying to ‘catch out’ many people who are part of smplive and/or lunch club, most obviously with Cooper and Schlatt but I’ve seen the others getting ‘called out’ too. Carson’s anti-stan stance is well-known in the flandom (yes I am using that word get used to it) so these tweets didn’t surprise me.

For some reason stans seem to think that if one creator is okay with their behaviour, every other creator is too. This is not the case. Carson was within his full right to say these things about stans.

Obviously the replies got out of hand. People became horribly angry very quickly, and clearly Carson had already had enough because pretty soon he started blocking stan accounts- which only made them more mad.

Of course, there were supporters and anti-stan comments out there too, such as this fun exchange:

But a whole lot of people got angry. Carson was trending for a while, too, after he started blocking stans. Unfortunately some people did get wrongfully blocked, which sucks, sure, but use of an alt account or logging off of twitter can solve that problem (this can also be said for stan accounts. Carson didn’t stop any of them from viewing his content, just blocked them so that he didn’t have to see their tweets).

Carson did this for his own mental health. After a long conversation with older people who have been in fandoms for decades, I can tell you that being at the top is always hell. New threads created about you every day, friends you can’t trust, and people giving you shit for things other people said. I can’t imagine how someone as popular as Carson has dealt with this for so long.

People who were blocked started to claim that they were having panic attacks, that they hyperfixate so they can’t help being obsessive, and that Carson doesn’t care about mental health for these reasons. They said some pretty toxic and manipulative things and a lot of people clearly didn’t know what they were talking about:

First of all, these comments on the Katerino and Fitz situation are honestly disgusting. These people are only proving Carson’s point that stans will be super supportive one second and turn around to hate you the next. To bring up something like this, something completely unrelated and highly personal- knowing Carson will see- is disgraceful. To speculate about a relationship that Carson has explicitly stated he doesn’t want people to speculate about just to try and make a point? Horrible.

A lot of stans seem to have this ‘we made you famous so we dictate how you feel’ mentality, which I hate. Exactly as the reply says, they sound like toxic parents with these words. To think you deserve ‘respect’ from someone after accusing their friends of horrible things and harassing them to the point that they block you is so manipulative and quite frankly cruel.

Again, Carson has the right to block anyone he wants. Creators are not your friends, they are entertainment. If you are making them upset and harassing them, you shouldn’t get mad when they block you.

Listen. It can be tough, finding out that someone you look up to has blocked you. Yes, I’m sure people had a not-so-nice time with their mental health when it happened to them. But in most cases, they were blocked for a reason. Some people were even literally asking to get blocked and then got mad when they did. But again, no one has been barred from viewing Carson’s content. He simply blocked people who he didn’t want to see in his comments section.

You have freedom of speech, but you don’t have freedom from consequence. If you say something that hurts someone else, you’re not always going to be free from their judgement.

Carson has been very open about his own struggles with depression and imposter syndrome recently, and people are viewing his actions as... hypocritical? This is flawed logic. Carson blocked stans because they were bad for his mental health, the fact that some claim to have had ‘panic attacks’ as a result is not on him. He has the autonomy to block who he wants to block.

Wilbur Soot made some comments about the situation, which can be found in this video from 7 minutes 30 seconds in, and goes until 10 minutes and 11 seconds in:

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/667971714

What Wilbur says here is completely understandable. He doesn’t have a problem with stans, but doesn’t speak for anyone but himself. Just because one person is okay with something doesn’t mean someone else is, too.

Also, a lot of people think that it’s okay to hate on someone like Carson or Schlatt, then turn around and stan Wilbur, which is kind of fucked up, because they’re friends in real life. How would you feel if someone was super nice to you, then turned around and harassed your friends?

A lot of people claimed to have ‘hyperfixations’ on Carson or lunch club, which they used as an excuse to be obsessive and creepy. This is bullshit, but someone else explained it a lot better than I could:

And I absolutely agree with this. You cannot use neurodivergence to explain away your creepiness. That’s just offensive to people who do hyperfixate, and leads to even more problems and misunderstandings.

Carson did a stream much later where he talked about all of these things, and boy did that go well (not). Here is a clip of him talking about hyperfixations:

https://m.twitch.tv/clip/SuaveBlushingDotterelBCWarrior

Now, here’s where my support for Carson falters. He should have done more research on what hyperfixations really are before he said things about them. He hurt some people with what he said, and just saying he’s uneducated on the topic isn’t really an excuse.

HOWEVER. Carson was given very little time to research (about 24 hours between his original tweets and his stream) and, more importantly, it is very obvious that the use of the term ‘hyperfixation’ has been warped and manipulated by stans who are misusing the term to excuse their behaviour. Carson probably saw stans using it and assumed it was something synonomous with ‘obsessions’.

What he said was poorly worded, but the point he was making is the same as the (much more researched and informative) tweet above. Anyone getting mad that he is somehow ‘invalidating mental health or autism’ with his comments clearly don’t understand the point he was trying to make in the first place.

And here’s a clip of Connor talking about it, too, as well as defending Carson’s right to block people as he wishes:

https://www.twitch.tv/connoreatspants/clip/YummySlickPlumageSpicyBoy

https://www.twitch.tv/connoreatspants/clip/JazzySpotlessMelonMoreCowbell

What he said here is completely valid, a little poorly worded in the same way as Carson’s statement, but overall something I stand behind.

Some people are claiming that Carson is being manipulative or ‘gaslighting’ fans and stans:

Carson is not against fans who create cool stuff for him and his friends. He is against the people who harass him, accuse his friends of horrible things, and try to look for every little thing they’ve said and done wrong. This is what he said, and people got mad at him for it, and so he blocked them. That is it. There is no gaslighting. There is no manipulation. I’ve seen much more manipulative things coming from the stans’ side of things.

Now we move on to Noah’s reply to Carson’s tweet. Which, yes, caused a whole new can of worms to be opened.

Now, for those like me who have trouble figuring out Noah’s way of speaking, let me translate: ‘stans are insecure people who start to feel entitled because they’ve started to view a streamer they like as a friend/someone who shares their pain.’

For those of you who don’t know, this is what ‘don’t negotiate with terrorists’ means:

However, almost predictably, stans saw the word ‘terrorist’ and lost their goddamn minds. That, coupled with the complicated phrasing of Noah’s words, caused a lot of stans to freak out.

This conversation is full of Bad Takes, but my main issue is that they are trying to diagnose Noah with an actual mental illness. That is not only offensive to people who have that illness (especially calling him ‘insane’ in the same sentence, as well as implying that having said illness makes you a bad person) but is also highly hypocritical since so many stans claimed to all be neurodivergent themselves.

Also, 90% of his fans aren’t stans. They’re mostly fans or flans. You are a loud minority. You aren’t as powerful as you think you are. Noah even started to retweet hate comments, that’s how few shits he gave. He also shows that he is concerned about people making things up about him, which is understandable.

Plus he outright said that stans are not fans of him, which in most cases, they’re not. Noah’s content isn’t as widely watched as some of his friends’ stuff, and a lot of stans don’t watch his streams.

But anyway, here’s one good take I saw floating around:

After this, before his stream, Carson deleted his original tweets and spent some time with his family, which was a sensible and mature thing to do at this point.

During Carson’s stream, someone notified him that his ‘fans’ had started to doxx stans. Here is his reaction:

https://m.twitch.tv/callmecarsonlive/clip/SpicySassyGerbilArgieB8

A lot of people got mad that he didn’t do more to stop the doxxings, but I want to raise the question: what was he supposed to do? He can’t control his ‘fans’ (another breed of stans who don’t call themselves stans were doing the doxxings, to be honest) and he said not to do it. He was streaming, he didn’t know how serious it was or even if it was true, at that moment, what was he supposed to do?

It did get serious. People I know were doxxed. Anyone posting anything (positive or negative) about lunch club, smplive, and Carson were in danger. It was not fake like some people claimed. The twt handles in this post are blurred out because of the doxxing threats. I am making this post at my own risk, but I do feel that tumblr is safer than twitter at the moment.

This being said, it is in no way Carson’s fault how out of hand this has become. He has been against doxxing in the past and his sentiments haven’t changed. He has said more about the doxxings in replies to tweets such as this one:

Also, here’s what the mods on Carson’s discord server had to say about the situation. They’ve clearly talked about this with Carson, and are strongly against anyone who is doxxing these people (especially since a lot of the people being doxxed are minors).

A similar sentiment was shared on Ted’s discord server:

Here is what ItsAsaii had to say:

So that’s basically where everything stands right now. If you want an even fuller update on everything, check out Carson’s stream ‘afternoon fellas and fellettes’ where he talks about everything.

Here’s the last tweets I have from Carson regarding the whole situation:

And I agree fully with what he has said. And again, Carson doesn’t owe stans anything. Just like what was said here, he had subs and fans before he had stans, they did not ‘make’ him, and they cannot control him.

This is all I have to say, for now. If I have missed anything or you’d like me to cover anything else, please let me know. If I have hugely missed the mark and said something super wrong/offensive, let me know. If you’d like me to talk about a streamer or youtuber not related to lunch club, throw me a DM or an ask and I’ll try to compile some things, even if I don’t watch their content or know who they are.

If you’d like up-to-date information about drama in smptwt, streamers, and youtubers, join the Cancelled Heaven discord server- which I linked at the start of the post.

I thank you all for reading, and suggest that you reblog this so that as many people as possible can see it. If you want to risk it, go ahead and link this post in a tweet or something, but please do be careful.

For some ‘extra reading’ (watching) I highly recommend Contrapoints’ video on cancel culture: https://youtu.be/OjMPJVmXxV8

And Philosophy Tube’s video on artists and fandoms, there’s some really insightful things about parasocial relationships: https://youtu.be/3IG0Y63LkDM

Lots of love, and have a great day <3

#smptwt #smplive #lunch club #callmecarson #ted nivison #slimecicle #cscoop #twitter #twitter drama #twt #lctwt #stan culture #cancel culture #long post

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helenarlett-rex · 3 years

Text

The Helen Arlet Lore Based Hunger Games

It’s time for another Hunger Game! This time the tributes will all be entirely based on the lore of Helen Arlet fiction. Let’s start out by meeting our tributes.

First up, our teams. From District 1, Team Author, featuring Helen Arlet and Violet S. Hunter. Helen, a T-Rex, is the author of various weird and sexual novels and short stories while her wife, Violet, a Midnight Lycanroc, is her editor. These two being a married couple may prove make things interesting with the nature of this game. Although Helen is highly popular in the vore community so hopefully her predatory nature will give her an added bonus in this game.

From District 2, Team Shark, featuring Nolly and Mai. Nolly is a leopard shark as well as a school teacher and swim coach. She’s no stranger to being a predator so we expect to see big things from her. Mai, a rainbow shark, is one of Nolly’s students and tougher than she looks, but it will be interesting to see if she is able to hold ground with her teacher. Both characters come to us from the Miss Nolly’s Class book series which currently has two books published with a third in development.

From District 3, Team Smalls, featuring Clawdette and Anny from the serialized Miss Smalls short stories published monthly on Helen’s Eka’s Gallery. As much as everyone it watching Helen and Nolly, I’m sure neither one of them are attracting the kind of anticipation Clawdette Smalls is. She is by far the most ferocious and accomplished predator in this game and her friend Anny is no stranger to that sort of thing either. These two may just be the favorites for the finale.

From District 4, Team Pre-Yiffpunk, featuring Sky and Jinx. Both characters appear in books taking place in the Yiffpunk universe but before the events of the series-proper. Sky is an extremely clever jackalope so while she isn’t much of a predator, like many of her competitors, she’s been known to hold her own against people like that. Jinx the Plague Rat on the other hand is something of a toss-up here. Not much is known about he considering her book is still in development so no one really knows what to expect from her.

From District 5, Team Less Popular Stories, featuring Terra and Amber. Terra is a platypus and the bass guitarist for the punk band, The Dank Wildcats, appearing in novels of the same name. Amber is a fox hailing from another one of Helen’s serialized short story collections. Who will go farther out of this pair is anyone’s guess. Terra is a thinker known for using her head to survive tough situations while Amber is clearly the predator on this team.

From District 6, Team Yiffpunk, featuring Cleo and Bella Foxx. These women, a lizard and rabbit respectively, have both been the protagonist of their own novel in the Yiffpunk series and have both proven that they have what it takes to survive regardless of what’s thrown at them.

From District 7, Team Books that May or May Not Ever Get Finished, featuring Space Vixen and Creepy Kangaroo Doll. This team is something of a mystery. Neither of the characters have ever been seen before now by anyone other than Helen Arlet herself. Who they are and what they are capable of will be a complete surprise.

From District 8, Team Deep Lore, featuring Marz and Mothman. And if the last team wasn’t enough of a mystery, this team features characters who’s involvement in Helen’s books has been kept under such wraps that most people don’t even realize they exist.

From District 9, Team Intentionally Bad Book Covers, featuring Fain and Helga. Fain, an Okeechobee Swamp Monster, and Helga, a spinosaurus, may both come from books that had rather bad covers, but both of these big girls have shown their ability to and willingness to eat others without feeling bad about it. That kind of attitude should get them pretty far in this game.

From District 10, Team Probably Plotting to Kill Each Other, featuring Real Helen Arlet and Paru Itagaki. One of these authors is psychically stealing ideas from the other and neither of them will own up to it. Oh but wait... This means we have two Helen Arlets in this game? Apparently one is the actual author and the other is just a fictional version of her, but neither one of them will own up to which is which either...

From District 11, Team Helen’s Just Fucking With Us Now, featuring Carrol and Aldry. Carrol is a psychic pterodactyl from Helen’s Dino Dimension Saga series of books and Aldry is a red dragon from a trilogy of short stories written by Helen. Both characters are a bit of a mind-fuck but it remains to be seen if that will help them in this game.

And from District 12, Team What Was Helen On?, featuring Elli and Heather. Elli is an eighteen year old human girl with living shark heads in place of breasts. She was seen in the only banned book Helen Arlet ever wrote. While Heather is an anaconda who doesn’t mind eating her co-worker as long as it will help her get laid. I’d place this team in the wildcard area.

But now that we know the teams, it’s time to get this game started.

The Bloodbath

As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.

Paru Itagaki runs away from the Cornucopia.

Elli takes a spear from inside the cornucopia.

Clawdette runs away with a lighter and some rope.

Real Helen Arlet grabs a sword.

Amber runs away from the Cornucopia.

Marz runs away from the Cornucopia.

Jinx runs away from the Cornucopia.

Helen Arlet runs away from the Cornucopia.

Space Vixen finds a bag full of explosives.

Fain runs away from the Cornucopia.

Anny runs away from the Cornucopia.

Helga takes a spear from inside the cornucopia.

Mai runs away from the Cornucopia.

Terra runs away from the Cornucopia.

Carrol runs away from the Cornucopia.

Day 1

Bella Foxx makes a slingshot.

Terra goes hunting.

Mai constructs a shack.

Paru Itagaki sees smoke rising in the distance, but decides not to investigate.

Helga tries to sleep through the entire day.

Creepy Kangaroo Doll travels to higher ground.

Heather receives an explosive from an unknown sponsor.

Marz tries to spear fish with a trident.

Fain fishes.

End of First Day

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trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

The Suspiciously Strange Night

Mike Schmidt has been keeping himself on his toes all week. He'd been hired for a security guard job that he regretted 2 days in, and he's been trying to tough it out for just the week, so that he can quit and move on. But the restaurant animatronics are...strangely slow tonight. And it appears that Carl the Cupcake is missing from Chica...

This was suggested by @fivecoins. You, my friend, are the first person to suggest something to me through Tumblr! So congrats! Thank you for the suggestion! ❤

Slight warning: The tickling gets a bit intense...

Mike was flipping through the different camera footage available on his computer screens. He sighed in boredom, lazily clicking the keyboard arrow in front of him. He knew the boredom wouldn't last long because it was the same routine the last 3 nights. He'd experience some boredom for a good hour or so, before quickly focusing his energy on the moving animatronics. He had been warned the first night that they were active, but he had no idea he would be risking his life until he hit Night 2. By 12 am of Night 3, Mike was ready to call it quits. If these animatronics were planning on killing him, they certainly weren't doing it fast enough.

Mike was starting to get fed up with these killer pieces of machinery. He was growing pretty agitated rather quickly. If those animatronics so much as looked at him through one of the hall cameras, Mike was ready to whip his chair at them. Sure, he'd have to pay the fine. But surely, they can't be that expensive, right?

Right about now was the time that Mike began seeing some activity. The animatronics had started to move around from their stage, and Foxy was already out of Pirate Cove. Welp...here we go again.

Mike began laser-focusing on the animatronics as they walked around. He'd check camera after camera, to see which animatronics moved and which ones remained in one place. But there was one little detail that Mike noticed. Chica seemed...different. It looked like Chica was missing something, but what could he possibly be missing? Mike couldn't put his finger on it. The animatronic itself looked fine. It looked its usual yellow color with its beak. But it...it felt like there was something still missing...

Whatever. I'm sure whatever it is, it'll enter his mind eventually. Mike continued to keep a good eye on all the animatronics. He also had to keep an eye on how much power he was using. More often than not, the power at night would suck itself dry in a matter of a couple hours. So he had to preserve it somewhat.

Mike checked the hallway cameras quickly, before going back to the camera footage of the main dining area. The hallways were completely clear. What WASN'T clear though, was the dining room. Bonnie was standing in the dining room, looking right at the camera while holding his red guitar. It was...very creepy to say the least. It wasn't anxiety inducing, but...it did send a chill up his spine. Mike decided to stare at Bonnie for a few more seconds before moving onto the next footage.

He looked behind the stage, and noticed that Freddy Fazbear had moved! Mike bit his lip nervously as he looked around the different camera spots for the big teddy bear. Thankfully for Mike, he was just hanging out near the Pirates Cove. Sure, it meant it was getting closer, but it wasn't walking in the side hall yet.

Mike had placed his flashlight in his pocket as he checked on Chica. He wanted to make sure he can ready himself for eventual puppy guarding by the animatronics. He had doors he could close and lights he could flash, but...that's all that was saving him from death.

Suddenly, a little clopping sound could be heard coming down the left hall. Mike gasped and tried turning on the light. But, there was no one in the hallway. Confused, Mike turned off the light and kept his eye on the door button. He took one more look at the camera down that left hall, before looking back at the door.

But, a little candle flame was peeking itself into Mike's eyesight. Mike looked a little lower, and softened his expression at the tiny animatronic standing at the door frame. It was Chica's cupcake! It was Chica's pink cupcake prop! Mike's eyes widened as he looked at Chica from the camera footage. THAT was what was missing! It was the cupcake prop! And now, the cupcake prop was standing right there.

Mike backed away from the tv and looked at the cupcake nervously. What was it gonna do? Was it gonna hurt him? Did it have teeth like the other animatronics? Was it going to send out a pair of arms to beat him in a boxing match?

...That last thought made no sense whatsoever. Mike continued to look at the cupcake. The cupcake looked up at Mike, staring at him with his big buck teeth sticking out.

Unsure of what to do next, Mike lifted his hand and gave it a little wave and a tiny smile. He lowered his hand and waited for the cupcake to do something. And, it did! The cupcake tilted its body to the side, and bounced back and forth happily, landing on either side of the bottom of the cupcake. It looked like the cupcake was trying to wave back using its body, primarily its candle. Mike's expression softened further, as he began to see how nonthreatening it really was.

"Hi." Mike said to it. The candle replied back by looking down at the checkered ground, and bouncing itself further inside the room. "I'm Mike." Mike introduced.

The cupcake looked at Mike with curiousity. "Where's Chica?" Mike asked the cupcake. "Aren't you supposed to be with Chica?" Mike asked. The cupcake ignored Mike's questions and instead, began focusing on the checkered floor he was standing on. The cupcake looked around, and noticed that every square was connected to each other by the point. On top of that, the cupcake was standing on a black square.

So, the cupcake began jumping back and forth from one black tile to another black tile. It began following the weird pattern back and forth, before following more black tiles in a straighter line. Mike watched the cupcake with curiousity as the cupcake began circling him. A small smile perked up on his lips as he turned his head around to keep watching the cupcake's every move.

Soon, the cupcake bounced itself up and down at Mike's feet, as if wanting to be picked up. Mike smiled and chuckled at the cupcake's toddler-like behaviour and bent down to its level. He picked up the cupcake and placed it onto the desk beside him. "The view up here is probably nicer." Mike commented. The cupcake smiled at him using the corners of its frosting-covered mouth. "I mean it's not the nicest setup, but...it'll do just fine." Mike said, mostly talking to himself. The cupcake looked down at the hand on the desk, and bent himself forward before lifting his hand up with his candle.

Mike lifted an eyebrow and smiled. "What are you doing?" Mike asked. The cupcake began rubbing the side of its frosting against the hand, in an attempt to get some love. "You want to be petted?...I didn't know you could feel touches of affection." Mike reacted calmly. Mike began giving the pink frosting little pets and pats on the head. He was afraid to give him scratches, because nails scraping on metal was like nails on a chalk board. The cupcake happily took the head pats and nuzzled himself into the petting hand.

"You're surprisingly soft for a metal robot. I wonder what this frosting is made of?" Mike asked to himself. The cupcake ignored Mike's question and instead, began focusing on Mike's security guard hat. It was dark, but it had big white things on the front of it. It was very cool, and the cupcake wanted it. The more he stared at the hat, the more tempted he became. So, after a good 5 minutes of watching and receiving head pats, the cupcake jumped on top of the hand and jumped up his arm. "What the-" Mike muttered. The cupcake jumped up to his shoulder, and slipped the yellow candle into the hole in the back of the hat. "Hey! Hey wait- what are you doing?" Mike asked, growing louder and louder. Before he could stop him, the cupcake jumped itself off of his shoulder, onto the table and back onto the ground...with his hat wrapped around the candle by the hole on the back.

Mike crossed his arms and gave him a disappointed expression. "Give it back." Mike told him. The cupcake only looked at him for a moment, before sending him a big, buck-toothed smile. Mike immediately understood: The cupcake was in a playful mood! Mike slowly smirked and knelt down to the cupcake's level. He grabbed the hat off the candle. But, the cupcake grabbed onto it with his teeth! "Hey! Let go!" Mike ordered. The cupcake refused to. It was his toy now, whether Mike liked it or not.

Amidst the fighting however, the cupcake stopped pulling and suddenly widened its eyes and looked behind Mike. Mike was still trying to get his hat back, and didn't even notice the eye difference. "Excuse me, you salty piece of poison! Let go of my HAT!" Mike yelled. The cupcake only continued to look behind him, hoping he would notice. Mike softened his facial expression, when he noticed the cupcake's changed demeanor. "What are you looking at? I want you-" Mike asked, still angry at the cupcake for trying to steal his hat. The cupcake's eyes widened as it continued to look behind the guard. Mike's facial expression quickly changed to surprise and nervousness. "Is...is there something behind me?" Mike asked the cupcake. Mike moved the cupcake over to the right side, and took notes of the cupcake's behaviour.

The cupcake's eyes widened more and its body began curling up, as if it was trying to hide itself. Mike's own eyes began to widen as he realized he'd forgotten to look at the animatronics' progress. One of the animatronics could be right there...staring him down and ready to tackle him. Just from the facial expression along, it looked like Chica couldn't have been the animatronic behind him. If it were Chica, the cupcake would've dropped itself down and bounced its way over to him. But...the cupcake was scared.

Still nervous but gaining some confidence, Mike placed the cupcake down with his hat still in his hand. Who really owns the hat is now the least of his worries. All he cares about now, is: life or death. Mike slowly grabbed his flashlight out of his pocket and clenched it between both hands. He took in a few breaths, and began pep talking himself.

"You can do this. You've done this before. If the animatronic comes running at you, kick it in the leg. That'll get it onto the ground. And if it catches you, aim for the crotch." Mike thought. Then, with his switched on flashlight in hand, Mike turned around and let out a yell. The flashlight was supposed to reveal the color and the shape of the animatronic. It looked like the color was a dull green, and the shape was...flat? For some reason? And...it had a doorknob!

Wait a second...what was he looking at?

Mike shook himself out of it, and moved the flashlight around the room. Nothing. Another spot, nothing. Towards the floor? Nothing. Not even a pair of feet. Mike let out a sigh of relief. Just a false alarm. Just to be sure though, Mike double checked by clicking the light in the hallway. What do you know: nothing. No animatronics. Mike smiled.

"Okay. Coast is cle-" Mike, looking at the ground. But, the ground that was previously occupied, was empty. Mike blinked in surprise. What? Where did he-...Oh NOOOO...Mike groaned and threw his arms to the side. The cupcake ran away with his hat!

Mike took off running towards the hallway. "GET BACK HERE! THAT'S MY HAT!" Mike yelled, sprinting down the hall. The cupcake was jumping around down the hall, already far enough away to reach the dining hall. Mike continued to catch up to the cupcake, heading right into the dining hall after it. Eager to get away, the cupcake began jumping around underneath the tables. Being the smart man he was, Mike didn't crawl under the tables. Instead, Mike ran up to each table and moved a chair out of the way.

But, it looked like the cupcake had hidden under the third table! So, Mike pulled a chair out of the way, and tried climbing himself under the table. Interestingly, the cupcake didn't move! It just watched Mike slither himself under the table. Mike reached out towards his hat, but couldn't quite get it yet. So, he slithered himself closer. Suddenly, the cupcake started bouncing towards Mike. It bounced right onto his head, bounced down his back and bounced itself back out from under the table. That little SHIT!

Mike growled and pushed himself out from under the table, and was about to start running at the cupcake again. But, he quickly skidded to a halt when he realized that the cupcake was now sitting, hat in its mouth-

...on Chica's hand.

Mike gasped and got his flashlight ready. In an attempt to attack it, Mike swung the flashlight towards the large chicken. But to Mike's surprise, Chica caught the flashlight in mid-air, perfectly! Mike's eyes widened, as he let out a whimper. Despite the flashlight being in enemy's grip, Mike would not let go of it. This would end up being a mistake, as Chica just pulled the flashlight out of his grip and threw it behind him. As Mike attempted to go get it, Chica grabbed onto him!

"Uh oh...Chica, No! WAIT! OH GOD NO! LET ME GO!" Mike yelled, pushing against the pair of hands holding onto him.

"Great job, Carl! We have the night guard now!" Chica said to the cupcake beside him. Carl smiled and started bouncing up. He bounced onto Chica's shoulder, bounced himself to Mike's shoulder and attempted to place the hat onto Mike's head. Only, it ended up just going on part of head completely crooked. Chica giggled at how silly it looked. "I don't think you'll be needing this anytime soon." Chica said, removing the hat from his head and throwing it onto the ground.

"Hey guys! We got him!" Chica declared. Suddenly, the three other animatronics popped out from behind their hiding spots, and came running over. Mike's eyes widened as he yelped and began squirming around to get out of his grip. "WAIT! DON'T! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mike shouted, covering his face with his hands. He could feel the animatronics getting closer and closer and closer...

"Hehehehe...HahahahAHAHAHA! Wahahait, whahahat? Nohohohoho! Nohoho tihihicklihihihing!" Mike reacted. A pair of hands had started squeezing his sides.

"Wow! He IS ticklish! I wonder where else he's ticklish?" Freddy declared. He picked up Mike's arm, and started wiggling a finger in his armpit.

"HEHEHEHEHEY! FREHEHEHEHEDDYHY, DOHOHOHOHON'T!" Mike yelped, attempting to pull his arm away. But the bear was too strong!

"Coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo! Who knew such a braaave night guard could be so ticklish?" Freddy reacted. Mike giggled helplessly as he squirmed around in Chica's grasp.

Bonnie had also decided to grab his foot, and was currently taking a shoe off. "Is your foot ticklish? Let's see:" Bonnie said, before wiggling a finger on his foot.

"NOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Mike shouted, kicking his other foot freely.

"Wow! It looks like someone is a kicker...We should change that!" Foxy declared, picking up the other foot with his hand and tickling it with his hook.

"GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHA! NO! NO-NO-NO-NO-NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Mike shouted as loud as he could.

Somehow, all 4 of the animatronics were tickling him! There were 4! Separate! Hands, tickling him right now!

"Aww! Look at how cute you are!" Freddy declared. Then, Freddy began waving the animatronics away to take the man into his own grasp. "Come here. You're mind now." Freddy told him.

Mike yelped and was still terrified that Freddy would kill him. His back was against Freddy's belly and chest, and Freddy's arms were wrapped around Mike like a 'cross the waist' seat-belt. Even though the animatronic was hugging him currently, he still wanted to be let go. "Freddy? Please let-" Mike managed to get out, before pausing his words to witness Foxy getting closer.

Mike's eyes widened as he began kicking at him. "Whoa there, buddy! Quit kicking so much!" Foxy warned. Thankfully, Mike did stop. But that was only because he was busy attempting to push Freddy's nose away from his neck.

"What's wrong, Mike? Can't handle a few bear kisses?" Freddy asked. Next, Freddy shoved his nose into the back of Mike's neck, and began 'kissing' his neck with the nose.

"HahahAHAHAHA! CAHAHAHAHARFUHUHUHUL! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHES!" Mike squealed, lifting his shoulders up to protect his vulnerable neck.

"Oh boy! Hearing that, just makes me wanna give you more teddy bear kisses!" Freddy declared.

Mike squealed at that, and began lifting up his arms to stop Freddy in his tracks. But go figure: "I spy with my little eye...a TICKLISH SPOT!" Bonnie declared, tickling his exposed armpits.

Mike shrieked and threw his head back slightly. "NAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHOHOHO! BOHOHONNIHIHIHIE! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!" Mike yelled, trapping his fingers inside his armpits.

"Uh oh...my hands are stuck! Well...looks like I'll have to keep on tickling your armpits until they let me go free!" Bonnie declared, digging his fingers further into his armpits.

"BAAAHAHAHAHAHA! YOHOHOHOU BAHAHAHASTAHAHARD! IHIHIHI'M GOHOHONNAHAHA KIHIHIHIHIHILL YOHOHOHOU!" Mike shouted.

"Kill us? How could you possibly kill us? We're not exactly fragile, and you don't have a toolbox." Foxy commented.

"IHIHI'LL FIHIHIHIND AHAHA WAHAHAHAY!" Mike yelled back.

Freddy giggled. "I hate to break it to you buddy, but I'm pretty sure YOU'RE the one stuck in this predicament." Freddy reminded.

Chica looked over at his bouncing candle prop. "Are you enjoying the view, Carl?" Chica asked. The candle nodded its frosted muffin top.

Mike mentally giggled at the weird name. "CAHAHARL? YOHOHOHOU NAHAHAHAMED YOHOHOUR CUHUHUHUPCAHAHAHAKE CAHAHARL?!" Mike asked, surprised.

Chica looked up. "Yes, I did! Carl the cupcake! Why? Are you making fun of it?" Chica reacted.

"NOHOHOHO! NO, NO! NO, IHIHI'M NAHAHAT!" Mike replied, attempting to push against Bonnie's arms to properly reply.

"I dunno...you're still laughing. I'm gonna say you're making fun of me! And boy, am I OFFENDED!" Chica told him in a pretend hurt voice. Mike gulped and started squirming harder. "You think you're getting out of here without facing the WRATH! Of Chica's tickle monster abilities? HA! And here I thought I, was the chicken!" Chica teased.

Mike groaned as he giggled and tried to get out. "NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHEAHASE!" Mike begged.

"Nope. Too late for begs. Now you get the TICKLE PUNISHMENT!" Chica teased, before wiggling his fingers on Mike's tummy. "Coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo! A squish-squish-squish! A squish-squish-squish! I love your squishy bel-ly!" Chica sing-songed and teased.

"NOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO SQUISSSSSHHHEHEHEHES! NOHOHOHO BEHEHEHEHELLY SQUISHIHIHIHIHIES!" Mike begged, growing a little more high off the dopamine rush he was getting.

"But I love belly squishies! They're so squishy-squishy-squishy! And yooou're so tickle-tickle-ticklish! So of COURSE I'm going to give you belly squishies!" Chica declared. Bonnie giggled and pulled his hands out from Mike's armpits, to watch the scene go down in front of him. Chica smirked and began wiggling and squeezing the belly.

"🎶Squish-squish-squish-squish-squish! And a squish-squish-squish-squish-squish. A squishy over here and a squishy over there, and a squish-squish-squish-squish-SQUISH!🎶" Chica sing-songed.

Mike was going INSANE from the tickles and teases! How DARE HE?! "STAHAHAP! STOP-STOP-STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! THIHIHIHIHIS IHIHIHIS NUHUHUHUHUHUTS!" Mike yelled, his face growing more and more red by the minute.

"Nuts? This isn't nuts! You want me to show you nuts? THIS is nuts:" Chica said. Then, Chica lifted up his shirt, brought his beak up to Mike, and began pecking and nibbling his tummy like a chicken would!

Mike threw his head back. "eeEEEEEKKK! HHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAHAHAHAHAT TIHIHIHIHICKLEHEHEHEHEHEHES!" Mike shouted.

"Nom nom nom nom nom, nom nom nom nom nom! Yummy bird food! Such yummy seeds! Say...I wonder if your belly button has seeds?" Chica asked, before shoving his beak into his belly button. "Nom nom nom nom nom! Wow! So many seeds!" Chica declared.

Mike's laughter turned right into cackles, and his squirming only increased. He tried to move his belly button back and forth, back and forth, back and forth to get his beak out. But Chica's beak would follow his belly button! There was just no escaping Chica's pointy, ticklish beak! "Om nom nom nom nom nom nom! Om nom nom nom nom nom nom! So many good seeds!" Chica teased, moving his beak around the inside of his belly button. It was around here that Mike's laughter turned silent. His face was completely red, and his body had just about given up trying to struggle under the ticklish yellow beak. Noticing the change in laughter, Chica removed his beak.

Mike happily took the break and replaced as much oxygen as he could in a few seconds. Thankfully for Mike, the animatronics had given him a somewhat longer break. But, the the animatronics were not quite done with him yet.

Foxy had walked up to the hostage-held human, and smiled at him. He picked up the security guard hat, and placed it onto his right ear. He allowed the hat to just dangle on his right ear. "Lookin' good, right?" Foxy asked.

Mike chuckled at that. "Hand it back, Captain Hook. Only security guards get to wear that." Mike told him.

Foxy chuckled evilly. "You think you have the right to be talkin' to a pirate like that? I am a mixture of a gold digger with a drivers license, AND a land piranha. And yOoOou-" Foxy walked closer to him, and pushed against Mike's chest with the side of his hook. "-are a fragile human with a VERY helpful weakness." Foxy warned.

Bonnie covered his mouth and giggled into his hand. Mike just smirked at the fox. "Gold diggers get slayed for their obsession, and wolves get dominated." Mike told him. He brought himself closer to the fox's face. "I ain't scared of you." Mike spoke confidently.

Chica, not expecting that clap back, made a quiet 'Oooooooooh!' sound in surprise!

Foxy shows off his sharp animatronic teeth with a toothy smile, and wiggles his left hand's fingers in the air to tease him. Mike's confidence gets scratched a little bit, and he softens his facial expression. "I will admit: I applaud your confidence." Foxy told him. Then, Foxy somewhat gently clamped his fingers around Mike's hips. Mike yelped and attempted to squirm away, but to no avail. "You even have the hips for it!" Foxy admires, giving his hip a small squeeze.

"OHGOD- Fohohoxy, wahahait aha sehehecohond-" Mike told him, Foxy only widened his smirk, and squeezed his thumb deeper into the hip. "FohoHOHOHOHOXYYYHYHYHYHY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE! COHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON!" Mike yelled, his confidence just crumbling inside him.

"Not so confident now, Huh? Got something to say Mike?" Foxy asked, feeling the adrenaline from his dominance just surging through his mechanical veins.

"OHOHOHOHO, SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUHUP!" Mike spat at him.

Bonnie and Chica smirked as they immediately knew what was coming next: Foxy dropped his jaw, looked away and nodded his head in surprise as he closed his jaw. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but wrong answer." Foxy replied, before giving Mike's hip multiple squeezes at a time.

"OHOHOHO-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHI'M SAHAHAHAHAHAHARRYYHYHYHYHYHYHY!" Mike screamed.

Foxy smirked and stopped. "I'm sorry, what was that? didn't quite hear you over the loud laughing." Foxy asked.

Mike quickly began breathing. "I...I'm...sahaha...saharryhyhyhy...gohohohod...yohohohou're bruhuhutahahahal..." Mike said.

Foxy narrowed his single eye. "Funny...you say you're sorry, yet you follow your apology up with 'you're brutal'. The irony is hilarious." Foxy reacted, being sarcastic.

Mike only giggled at that. "Ihihihit's nohohot myhy fahahahault Ihihi'm sohohoho ohohout ohof breheheheath..." Mike added.

Foxy smirked at that last statement. He brought his left hand towards Mike's right hip, and twisted his hand. When it was the proper way, Foxy clamped his fingers onto his right hip and squeezed it over, and over, and over again. "Actually, it is! If you just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn't be losing your mind right now. If you're gonna use your mouth, you minus well use it for laughing." Foxy declared.

"GAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FREHEHEHEDDYHYHY! LEHEHEHEHET GOHOHOHOHO OHOHOHOF MEHEHEHEHEHE!" Mike begged, squirming around like a wiggle worm.

"No way! This is hilarious to watch." Freddy declared. "And since you've acknowledged me, I'm going to join in!" Freddy declared, before wiggling a couple fingers in Mike's armpit.

"NOHOHOHO, NONONONO WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIHIHIHI'M GOHOHOHOHOHONNA DIHIHIHIHIHIHIEEHEHEHEHE!" Mike shouted.

"No you're not! It's just a little tickling. Nothing you can't handle, right?" Freddy teased.

Foxy smiled at Freddy, but gave him the 'cut' signal. "As much as I appreciate the help, I think it's just a little too much for him. I'll stop too. He needs a break." Foxy told him.

"Aww...But I wanna tickle him..." Freddy whined.

"You'll get to go next. Just...let the man breath first." Foxy suggested.

"Okay. I'll hold him properly then." Freddy declared. Freddy grabbed Mike, and cradled him against his right arm. "I saw mothers holding small people like this." Freddy told Foxy.

Mike was too busy breathing, to properly understand what position he was in. He began breathing deeply, trying to get oxygen filling his blood vessels again. It was exhausting, but it worked.

As soon as Mike's brain filled with enough oxygen to properly focus, Mike's cheeks immediately turned red at the position: He was currently being cradled like a baby, by Freddy Fazbear. "Uuuuuhuhuh...Nope! I don't like this. That is no way to hold an adult person. This kind of position is for the babies only." Mike told him, trying to push himself up and off him.

But, Freddy pushed him back down with his hand. "Now wait a second, Mike! What do you mean this position is for babies? why can't this position be good for adults too? You're small enough to fit in my hands!" Freddy asked.

"The only reason I'm 'so small' compared to you, is because you're a good 3 feet taller than me! This is NOT a normal position for a grown up like me." Mike argued back.

Foxy began to smirk. "Aww...I think someone's a little embarrassed to be held like this! It's been a VERY long time since you've been cuddled like a baaaby." Foxy teased.

"What do you mean?" Freddy asked, genuinely curious. Bonnie, Chica and Carl leaned in to hear Foxy as well.

"Let me explain for all of you: Mikey-wikey here, is too embarrassed because only tiny babies get cradled like this. Once you become a grown up, you can't be cradled like a baby! You know why?" Foxy asked.

"Why?" Freddy replied.

"Because grown-ups who act like babies, are laughed at and treated like babies! And NO man EVER wants to be treated like a baAaAabyYy..." Foxy teased. "Just look at him now! The man's face and neck is glowing a bright red! That's what happens to humans when they're embarrassed." Foxy explained.

"Ooooooh!" Bonnie and Chica reacted at the same time.

Freddy placed his free hand on his chest as his facial features reacted to the cuteness. "Awww! There's no need to be embarrassed. Come here, Freddy-bear's got ya. Come here Mikey!" Freddy said in a baby voice, rocking the man back and forth and bringing Mike's body closer. Mike had began to giggle at how embarrassing Freddy was being right now. It was like being cuddled and kissed by your grandmother in front of your crush, while you were at the grocery store! How humiliating! "Awww! Foxy, look! He likes it!" Freddy declared, pointing at the man. "He's giggling!" Freddy observed.

"I can see that. Maybe he's in a mood to be tickled again? Little babies LOVE to be tickled!" Foxy suggested with a big smirk on his face.

Freddy gasped and immediately went starry-eyed at the idea. "YES! Great idea!" Freddy replied. He immediately began tickling Mike on the belly and the sides. "Coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo! A coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo! Does someone have a tickwish tummy? I think Mikey does! And a cute tummy too!" Freddy teased in a baby voice. Mike just covered up his face with his hands and fell into a fit of giggles and laughter. This was SO unfair!

"Stahahahahap wihihihihith theehe teheheheheheasing!" Mike begged.

"Aww! Poor baby! Is de teasing making it worse? Is de teasing making you all embawwassed?" Freddy teased further. Mike tittered in response and nodded his head. "Well you know what this means: More tickles!" Freddy declared, before squeezing his fingers on his sides.

"EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEhehehehehe! Nuuuuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!" Mike giggled happily. His dopamine rush from the tickling AND the teasing, was really starting to effect his mood. That was actually a good thing, because Mike was starting to enjoy the tickles and teases! Yes, the baby-type teases were embarrassing, but it was a good embarrassment!

"Nuuu? What's a nuuu? Do you mean 'new'? As in, 'new spot'? Okay! I'll gladly go to a new spot!" Freddy declared. Mike shook his head as his smile grew wider, while Freddy began wiggling his fingers on his neck. "Citchy-citchy-citchy-citchy-coo! A ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka-tickllle! Look at dis tickwish widdle neck of yours...It's soooo cute!" Freddy teased.

Mike squealed and attempted to curl his neck in and cover up his neck with his shoulders. But, Freddy's fingers were too big for Mike to stop anything! So, the man had no choice but to just giggle it all out. "Ihihihihi cahahahahan't! Ihihihihit's toohohohohoho teheheheheheheasyhyhyhyhy!" Mike giggled, still trying, but ultimately failing to cover his scarlet-colored cheeks.

"Oh! Have you heard of the nursery 'Round and round' before?" Freddy asked.

Mike's eyes widened. Oh GOSH! NURSERY RHYMES TOO?! Mike attempted to push Freddy's hand away. But, nothing was going to stop the big fingers from tickling his super ticklish body.

"This is how it goes:" Freddy started. He lifted up his shirt and brought his finger down on the outside of his belly button. "Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear!" Freddy sang, drawing circles around the belly button. Mike bursted into giggles almost immediately. "One step," Freddy started walking his fingers up his arm. "Two step," Freddy sang. Suddenly, he shoved his hand into his armpit! "Tickle you under there!" Freddy teased, tickling his semi-closed armpit.

Mike squealed and threw his head back with his mouth wide. "NAAAAAA! FREHEHEHEHEDDYHYHYHYHYHYHYHAHAHAHAHA!" Mike laughed and squirmed like a wiggly worm. Freddy continued to tickle him in the armpit for a few good seconds, before removing his fingers. The adult was super giggly after all that. The nursery rhyme actually managed to increase his giggles!

"Oh! Hey Freddy, go for his toes!" Chica suggested.

Freddy gasped. "Great idea, Chica! Are your toesies ticklish? Does someone have tickwish toesies?" Freddy asked.

Mike shrieked. "DOHOHON'T GO FOR MY TOES! NOHO TOES! PLEHEHEASE MOHOHO TOHOHOHOES!" Mike begged.

"I'll take that as a big..." Freddy moved his fingers down in front of the toes. "Fat..." Freddy brought his fingers closer and closer to his toes. "YES!" Freddy finally touched down on his toes and wiggled them all around! "ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky-tickle! A ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky-tickle!" Freddy teased. "Such tickle-tickle-ticklish toesies I have in my bear paws!" Freddy teased happily.

"EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!" Mike begged.

Freddy smirked. "No way I'm stopping my teasing! You Mikey, should know that Freddy Fazbear, The king of this Pizzeria, is also the most cuddly gigantic teddy bear robot to ever exist!" Freddy told him with confidence.

"WHAHAHAHAT AHAHABOHOHOHOUT THEHEHE OHOHOHOTHEHEHERS?!" Mike asked. Having been tickled by the other 3 already, Mike knows how good they are at tickling him.

"Nope! Freddy's the first! He's the #1 mascot!" Bonnie told Mike.

"He's also the first to be created." Foxy adds.

"Even if he wasn't these things, he's still modeled after a teddy bear. He's the most cuddly, and the least scary out of all of us. Therefore: The #1 animatronic." Chica concluded.

Freddy smiled happily and looked down, all flustered. "Aww! Thanks guys! But that doesn't mean you're anything off from me. You guys are just as important." Freddy replied. "I will say though, Foxy is the best tickle monster out of all of us." Freddy added. Foxy scratched the back of his head He shook himself out of the kind moment. "But enough mushy friendship stuff. I'm still focused on you, and your ticklish toesies!" Freddy teased, already going right back to tickling Mike.

"Wahahahait- WHAHAHAHAHAT?! COHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON! YOHOHOHOHOU'RE BEHEHEHEHEIHING RIDIHIHICULOHOHOHOUS!" Mike yelled.

"Ridiculous, you say? So you think 'Mikey has the most ticklish toes out of all of us' is a ridiculous thing to say?" Freddy asked. "Or...perhaps it's true?" Freddy asked, still tickling his toes.

"IHIHIHIHIHIT'S TRUHUHUHUHUE! IHIHIHIHIHI HAHAHAHAVE TIHIHIHICKLIHIHIHIHISH TOHOHOHOHOHOES!" Mike replied through his laughter.

"Yes you do! Oh, yes you do! Who has the most ticklish toesies in the whoooole world? Mikey does!" Freddy teased in his baby voice.

Mike covered up his face with his hands and started muffling his laughter. A thought had come to his head that made this EVEN WORSE! The poor man was currently being recorded by video cameras! People will be SEEING THOSE RECORDINGS ONE DAY! Mike felt like he wanted to crawl into a blanket fort at home, and just DIE in there. Certainly sounds better than imagining people seeing you getting tickled by a Freddy Fazbear animatronic...

"Alright, alright...I think he's had enough. Let him go. You're killing the man." Chica suggested.

Freddy frowned and whined. "Awww...But I was having fuuuun..." Freddy whined like a baby.

"I know, but look: Carl is getting worried for him." Chica explained, pointing to his frowning cupcake. He certainly looked worried all right...The cupcake was frowning in a concerned expression, and bouncing to try and get Freddy's attention. Freddy stopped his fingers as he watched Chica reach Carl out towards Mike.

Carl jumped off of Chica's hand, and onto Mike's heaving chest. The cupcake carefully hopped himself up to Mike's neck, and nuzzled his pink, frosted cheek into Mike's scarlet-colored cheek. Mike smiled at the cupcake and wrapped an arm around him. "Ihihihi'm ohohohokahahahahay. Ihihihi'm ahahahalrihihihight. Juhuhust sohohohome gihihihigglehehehes leheheheft ohohohoveher. Thahahat's ahahall." Mike reassured through his fits of giggles. Carl looked up at Mike, and gave him a smile before hopping down. Taking a few seconds to look around, Carl picked up something and jumped himself back onto Mike's chest with the item:

It was Mike's security hat. Carl placed the hat onto Mike's chest. Mike just giggled further and picked up the hat. Instead of placing it onto his sweaty mop of a head, Mike placed it onto Carl's head. Though because of the candle, it was moreso like a tent with a pole in the middle, than a hat. But, it was still being warn by the cupcake. Mike giggled and tittered at how silly it looked.

To place the cherry on top: Carl even stuck out his tongue! Mike was quickly brought back into fits of hysterics. The other animatronics also joined him in the laughter. It was a cute sight to see.

Mike's thoughts on the Pizzeria job began to shift since then. The day was actually really fun for him. Yes, he got tickled to the point of exhaustion, but he actually didn't mind it. Sometimes, it's good to have a good laugh. Mike definitely needed it. And, he made a friend! Carl the cupcake!

Perhaps, he would consider staying after all...

Alright! That's the end of that cute story! And amazing news: I finished my last year of school! I am now going to move onto the 13th grade! So, I've got a good couple weeks of free time, before starting up on a summer course. Even then, I'll still have lots of time to type up fanfictions.

So leave suggestions! I'll gladly take some. :)

#five nights at freddy's #lee!mike #ler!animatronics #ticklefic

130 notes · View notes

giant-sketches · 5 years

Text

Origami Rabbits

Huge props to @chatladybugaboo for the super awesome and cute idea that inspired this one-shot story of mine. Now this is simply based on the idea they posted about as I really wanted to make it my own so it just has similar elements and the Sander Sides characters.

I worked really hard on this one too. It has a total of 4 sketches and one gif animation so please enjoy!

@just-some-gt-trash Is also going to write their own version as well so be on the look out for their’s as well!

Word Count: 3864

Disclaimer: Slight depiction of bullying/ cursing/ swearing/ mean words/ shouting

I plan on doing more one-shot stories like this called Short Sides. Let me know if you want to get tagged on them from now on or just look for the tag Short Sides.

For a long time now, each time Virgil experienced a rough day of Remus and Deceit teasing him, he’d find a tiny origami animal placed below his bed. Sometimes it was the usual swan, but from time-to-time he’d receive butterflies, frogs, and his personal favorite, rabbits. At first he thought it might be one of the other sides, but both Remus and Deceit only shot him puzzled looks when he’d ask them about it. Remus suggested Virgil may be doing it in his sleep, while Deceit believed he was just lying to garner attention. However, Virgil knew something was up and he planned to find out what.

The next day Virgil steady he’s nerves as he purposely antagonized Remus and Deceit. He was successful in his taunting and by midday he was exhausted from his antics. He dragged himself to bed for an early rest, but in reality he only pretended to sleep. He had his back turned facing the wall and he listened patiently for any kind of unusual sounds. Right before he was about to give up, Virgil's ears picked up on the sound of footsteps creeping up on him, but they sounded soft. Were they tip-toeing? He also noticed that he hadn’t heard the door open so how did someone get in? Was it a ghost?!

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Sure it would be pretty cool to meet a ghost who did origami, but the idea was still pretty creepy. Then, the footsteps stopped and Virgil hesitated a bit before gingerly turning over to peer behind. There was nothing! What in the world was going on? He obviously heard the sound of footsteps so where was the person making them? As his mind began to fall into madness another sound caught his attention. Was that humming? The sweet sound was coming from below his current eye level. Slowly, Virgil turned his head downwards and was astounded by what he saw.

It was a person, a very, very tiny person who was cheerfully setting down an origami rabbit at the foot of his bed.

Virgil couldn’t believe his eyes. This person looked to only be about the size of his pointer finger, if not smaller. The origami rabbit he was holding was at least half his size. He had soft brown hair that curled slightly upwards. He wore glasses, a light blue polo shirt, and what appeared to be a cat sweater tied around his neck. His face was also similar to Virgil’s, could that mean he was also a side? Then why was he so small? It wasn’t just his size either though, there was something about his presence that felt completely different from Deceit and Remus. Virgil wanted so badly to talk with this little side, but he was too afraid. He knew just because he received gifts from them, that didn’t mean they wanted to be seen. Otherwise they would have just delivered them in person.

With that he rolled back over and fell asleep this time. In the morning he gently picked up his tiny gift and stared at it. He really wanted to thank them, but how should he go about it without scaring them off? Perhaps a return gift was the best idea as he began thinking over his options.

“I could try making my own origami animals in response, but then again they may end up too big for them to carry. Also what would they do with them afterwards? For me I can just keep it in my nightstand drawer.”

Virgil needed to think of something the tiny side could use that wouldn’t take up a lot of space or be difficult to carry. What about food? It might be tough to make something small enough, but it was worth a try. A couple days later Virgil gathered up some ingredients to make simple sugar cookies. He knew he could make tiny portions by rolling out the dough and using the metal part of a pencil with the eraser taken out to cut out perfectly sized circles. Figuring out which temperature to set the oven to and for how long the cookies needed to bake was the tricky part. It took a total of three attempts to get it right, but sadly not all the cookies survived. He was left with six in total to package up with a cut up plastic bag and a trimmed twist tie.

He turned in early for the night once more with his return gift placed at the foot of his bed. He turned to face the wall as usual and listened patiently. As time went on Virgil began to worry if the tiny side was going to show up. True his day wasn’t as bad as others, but he still made it a point to look distraught. Then again he had no idea when or from where the tiny was watching him so it was plausible that they never saw him upset. As his mind raced with uncertainties those all familiar footprints appeared. Virgil quickly quieted his mind and focused on the steps as they came straight to his bed and stopped.

“What is this?” A whisper came from below.

It was the tiny who had noticed the gift. Virgil prayed they liked it as he waited to hear more, yet the next noise that reached his ear was the sound of running. He twitched slightly as he stopped himself from making any sudden movements. He waited, counting down the seconds in his head before he would take a look behind him.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1….now!

Virgil quickly turned around and caught a glimpse of the tiny sliding into the space between his bookshelf and the wall. So that’s where he had come from. Virgil instantly remembered his main goal and glanced downwards. There, at the foot of the bed, was an origami swan and no cookies. The tiny, even though they ran, had taken his gift nonetheless. He smiled slightly at the notion of that tiny enjoying his handmade sweets. However, a pain ran through his heart as the sound of those hurried footsteps kept repeating in his mind. Despite his best efforts he had scared them off and he may never get to see them again.

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

*Huff* *huff*

How did this happen? He had been so careful this whole time not to be seen, but now he had gotten caught. Well not physically caught, but seen, he was seen!

“This isn’t good! I promised the others that I’d be careful if they let me keep doing this. What do I do now?”

As Patton ducked back into the hole in the wall right behind the bookshelf, he was lucky enough not to wake the others as he slid into his room. He took multiple deep breaths to calm himself as he slumped onto his bed.

“Woah boy...what am I going to do about this?” He thought as he stared at the lovely bundle of cookies resting in his hands.

“I wonder what kind they are. I really want to eat them, but what if he put something weird inside? No, no, the kiddo wouldn’t do that...right? I guess I feel like I know him, but do I really? He is still one of them after-all.”

Patton sat quietly in contemplation as he couldn’t decide on whether to eat or not to eat. Suddenly, his growling stomach made the decision for him.

“Looks like all that running made me hungry and he did make these himself just for me. The least I can do is eat them.”

Cautiously Patton reached into the bag and pulled out a cookie. Even though they were small, just one of them was close to the size of his palm. They appeared to be normal sugar cookies as he gingerly took a bite. Spontaneously, Patton’s nervous demeanor melted away as he scarfed the rest of it down in blissful enjoyment.

“Oh my goodness, he made these for me? They’re so good! How-how could I have suspected they might be poisoned...I’m terrible.”

Patton felt a lump form in the back of his throat. He just kept thinking to himself that he ran away and he was almost positive that the giant was awake when he did. It only made sense that at some point the giant pretended to fall asleep and instead noticed him as he delivered another origami animal. He couldn’t be sure as to when or for how long, but it didn’t change the fact that the giant knew. He knew and instead of hunting him down the giant had left Patton a gift to thank him. It was a delicious gift too. Patton now felt so ashamed of himself and hadn’t noticed that his bedroom door was now open.

Logan and Roman: “Patton? What is that?”

Surprised, Patton jumped to his feet in response.

Patton: “I-I can explain.” he whimpered.

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

Morning came way too early as Virgil groaned. He really didn’t want to get up and instead buried himself further into his sheets. Last night was a huge mistake! What in the world had made himself think it was a good idea to leave a gift when that would obviously mean he knew they existed! Fuck!

“I’m such an idiot. I try to do something nice and I mess it up like crazy! Now I may never see him again...the only person who’s ever given a damn about me.”

Virgil wanted to cry, but he had to hold them in or else Remus and Deceit would call him out on his red eyes. That would just make his mood even worse. Not to attract any unwanted attention Virgil dragged himself out of bed. For the remainder of his day he constantly zoned in and out of thought. Would the tiny show up tonight? He could really use the pick-me-up right about now. Sadly, the day seemed to drag on with Remus bugging him about his robotic behavior and Deceit sneering at him for being dramatic. God this sucks!

“Enough, I’m turning in early for tonight.”

“What, but you did that yesterday. I’m beginning to feel you don’t like hanging out with us V.”

“That’s cause I don’t Remus and stop calling me that.”

“Oh I’m so hurt, I-I’m wounded by your sharp words. Agahahah!”

Jokingly Remus pulled a can of tomato juice from his sleeve and shook it violently. Next thing Virgil knew he and Remus were now covered in the red contents.

“Shit! Why did you do that? Now I have to take a shower and clean my clothes before I go to bed.”

“You just looked so pale I thought you could use some color! Want to bathe together to make up?”

Remus had already begun undressing while still in the living room. Flustered, Virgil didn’t even take the time to answer such an outrageous question and hastened himself to the bathroom. He kept checking over his shoulder to make sure Remus wasn’t taking a peek, but after a while he believed he had gotten away. Virgil sighed in relief, but at the same time he was almost thankful he hadn’t gone to bed yet. He was anxious, anxious that the tiny side really may not show up. He had to be brave though; he needed to know if the tiny truly was gone forever.

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

“Now Patton, I hope you understand where we’re coming from with keeping you under house arrest.”

“I do, it’s just...he didn’t do anything to me after he found out. Isn’t that a good sign?”

“Patton, please that thing is just trying to trick you. Once it’s gained your trust he’ll trap you in a cage and keep you as some kind of pet.”

“Roman’s words may sound dramatic, but that’s all a plausible outcome for you if you continued.”

“We hope you can trust us on this Patton.”

Roman placed his hands on top Patton’s shoulders and gave him a hug of reassurance. All they wanted to do was keep him and themselves safe from the giants. Patton hugged back in response.

“We’re going to bed now. Try to get some sleep Pat.”

“Okay, thanks guys.”

“Goodnight Patton.”

With that Roman and Logan left, leaving Patton to sulk in his room. He reached underneath his bed and pulled out the rest of the sugar cookies he had gotten from the giant. They were so sweet. There was no way someone who took the time to make these just right for him could be bad, thought Patton. It’s not like he didn’t trust Roman and Logan, it’s just that he wanted to trust the giant too.

“I have to see him again. This time actually see him.”

With new resolve Patton slid open his closet to reveal the origami rabbit he had hidden inside and smiled with confidence. --------------------------------------------------------

Virgil was struggling to stay awake as he nodded in and out of sleep. Sure it would make sense to just admit defeat that the tiny side wasn’t going to show up, but he couldn’t help thinking that if he stayed up a little longer there may still be a chance. As his mind began to waver the familiar sound of soft footsteps snapped him awake. The tiny had actually shown up to Virgil’s bewilderment. He was so happy he hadn’t scared him away after-all.

He had to stay quiet though until the footsteps stopped. Then he’d turn around slowly to look. This time he wanted to try talking. As the footsteps came to a halt, Virgil prepared himself, but was stopped by the sudden shouting coming from an unknown voice.

“PATTON!”

“Ah! Ro-Roman?!”

“Patton what do you think you’re doing out here? You’re supposed to be under house arrest and sleeping in your room.”

“I-I know, but I don’t think we need to be so afraid of this one. He’s not like the others.”

“Patton please. Look at him, he’s huge! He could do anything he wanted to with you if you're caught and we, we may not be able to get you back.”

“Bu-but…”

*sigh* “Listen Pat, you may think you know that giant, but you don’t. He’s a giant and all giants do is hurt people. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Roman I-”

Before Patton could finish he saw the blood drain from Roman’s face as his eyes moved upwards. Instantly, Patton knew what Roman was looking at and whipped his head around to notice the giant staring down at him from the bedside. Patton was paralyzed by fear and didn’t even hear Roman screaming at him to flee.

“RUN!”

In a flash Roman ran for his life. He didn’t even look behind him, fully believing Patton had followed suit, but he hadn’t. Patton was still at the foot of the bed staring up at the giant in terror. His breathing became shallow and it took everything he had just to keep standing as his knees buckled. What was going to happen to him?

Virgil had heard everything and in a fit of anger had turned around to defend himself, but stopped after realizing what he had done. He was a complete idiot! Now one tiny had run away from him screaming and the other was just staring at him terrified. He really wanted to reach down and touch the tiny to let them know he didn’t mean them any harm, but after the conversation he just eavesdropped on he was unsure that wouldn’t help the situation. With that in mind, all he could think to do was smile meekly down at the tiny and hope that would do something to show he was nice.

Virgil’s smile caught Patton off-guard. Why is he smiling like that, he looks so sad. Smiling should make people look happy. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Wait, did he hear what Roman said? Oh my gosh if he did no wonder he looks like that! Is he trying to show me he won’t hurt me? What do I do? Should I try talking to him? I’m scared, but he also looks scared too. No, I have to be brave! I came out here all on my own just to see him and I’m looking at him right now.

“H-Hi....”

Virgil was stunned. Did he just say hi to me? That wasn’t my imagination was it? Should I say hi back, no wait, what if my voice is really loud? Then should I wave, no no, sudden movements might scare him off. What am I supposed to do then? I need to answer quickly or it will freak him out. Here goes!

“Hi…”

So awkward, but he didn’t run. That’s a good sign.

“Um...my name’s Virgil, wh-what’s yours?”

God, I hate small talk! Will he even answer? My mouth doesn’t look scary does it? What if he thinks I want to eat him or something? Ugh, gross, only Remus would find it funny to try and eat someone.

“My name’s Patton. It’s ni-nice to meet you Virgil.”

He’s talking to me, like we’re having an actual conversation. He’s even smiling at me now. Man he looks so cute!

“Hey Virgil? Yo-you’re not going to hurt me are you?”

“What no, of course not! I-I could never hurt you...you’re so nice and sweet. I’d hate myself even more if I ever hurt you. Please believe me!”

“Woah hey it’s okay I believe you!”

“Really?! I’m so relieved. After what you both talked about I was so worried you’d be too afraid to even talk to me.”

“So you did hear us after-all...”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I mean I must look like some kind of giant monster to you guys, but I was happy to hear you thought I was at least different compared to the others.”

“That’s because you are different, but still tha-”

Patton flinched as he locked his gaze onto Virgil’s hand now lowering down towards him. He braced himself expecting to be grabbed, but was surprised to feel soft fingertips caressing his face and hair instead. Surprised, he looked up to a beautiful smile painted on Virgil’s face.

Patton blushed deeply as he titled his head into Virgil’s gentle strokes. Virgil was pleased to see Patton had stopped shaking and looked like he enjoyed being touched.

“Sorry if I scared you. I just really wanted to touch you and make it clear that you’re safe here with me.”

“It’s okay. I’m not scared anymore and I do feel safe.”

“I’m glad to hear that...do you think I could pick you up?”

“Sure, I’d like that a lot.”

“Alright, just stay still while I bend down to grab you. I promise to be careful.”

“I trust you Virgil.”

Virgil was elated to hear those words as he carefully lifted Patton up in his hand and closer to his face to get a better look. As Virgil inched Patton closer, Patton took the initiative and landed a kiss onto Virgil’s cheek.

Virgil yelped in surprise, but remained still as to not jostle Patton around in his hand. His face had gone completely red in amazement at suddenly being kissed.

“What was that for?”

“That’s for the yummy cookies you made me. Did you not like it?”

“What, no I-I liked it! I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

“Oh well that’s good to hear. I can give you more if you want!”

“Let’s not for now. I don’t think my heart could take that a second time.”

Patton giggled a bit at Virgil’s bright red face. He felt so silly now for ever being afraid of such a person.

“Still, the cookies you made me were delicious. Thank you again for them.”

“I-I’m glad you liked them. Although, there’s no need to thank me really. I made them as a thank you for all the origami animals you’ve been making me. They’ve always made me feel special.”

“That’s because you are special.”

“Geez, are you always this sweet?”

Patton only smiled widely in response. Then he yawned and rubbed his eyes. It had gotten pretty late and Patton was finally slowing down.

“I think it might be best for you to head on back now Patton and get some rest.” “But I don’t want to leave yet! How about we have a sleepover and I stay here with you for the night?”

“What about your other friend who ran away? I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

“You mean Roman? Oh he’s been glaring at us for awhile now from behind the bookshelf.”

“WHAT?!”

Virgil frantically focused on the spot at the bottom of the bookshelf he had placed at the other side of his room. There, tucked away in shadow, was instead Roman staring daggers at him. It would appear he came back after noticing Patton wasn’t behind him, but he was still too scared to come back over.

“HEY ROMAN! I’M GOING TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH VIRGIL, OKAY?”

“WHAT!? NO NOT O-”

Before Roman could finish, another person’s hand wrapped itself around his mouth and skillfully dragged his entire frame out of sight. Then a similar hand shot out from the darkness in the form of a thumbs up.

“What in the world was that?”

“That was probably Logan. It seems like he’s given the okie-dokie on me staying here with you for the night.”

“Oh….okay. Are you still sure about this though? What if I roll over in my sleep and squish you, or maybe you fall off the bed?” “Don’t worry so much kiddo. It’ll be okay! If you’re worried about hurting me or me finding my way off the bed then I’ll just sleep on top of you.”

“On top of me?”

“Yeah, I’ll sleep on your chest. You think that will work?”

“O-on my chest?! I am a pretty solid sleeper so it sounds like the safest option, but will you be comfortable there?”

“I personally think I’ll be super comfortable there.”

Virgil had reached his limit for compliments and overheated at those words. All he could do now was give a simple nod in agreement and start to move into position to allow Patton to climb on top of him. The sensation of Patton’s tiny hands gripping onto Virgil’s shirt was strange and tickled like Hell. Luckily, the feeling faded quickly as Patton crawled over to the center of Virgil’s chest and laid down. Virgil used one hand to bring the sheets up to his torso and the other to hold Patton in place.

“You comfortable?”

“Very much so.”

“Cool. Hey Patton, before you go to sleep I just wanted to say that I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too Virgil.”

Patton yawned as he nuzzled his face into Virgil’s chest. Virgil blushed and pressed one of his fingers to Patton’s back and stroked it soothingly.

“Goodnight Patton.”

“Goodnight Virgil.”

As they drifted into a deep slumber it was unsure of how things would go from now on. However, they both knew that no matter what came their way they would never want to be apart.

The End

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land-under-wave · 4 years

Text

As promised, here’s the complete draft of the weird Scott Pilgrim Red/Green fic in its current state. For information about what’s going on with this fic, please see this post. If you’d only like to read completed sections, please start here and keep following the links.

This is very much a rough draft. Aside from simply incomplete sections, there were a lot of things that needed to be revised, such as: awkward tone shift, two sections being too similar to others, a lot of transitions I didn’t like, a really just inadequate Misty section, bad wording choices, etc. I would estimate it was about 85% done.

Content warnings: some amount of creepy old man behavior which I did my best to mitigate but was somewhat unavoidable given the premise. For section-specific warnings, in the first part, Green gets close to panic attack territory, and the ending contains physical slapstick comedy and a few references to Officer Jenny I was trying to edit out. A more detailed warning (which touches on ending spoilers and explains how I tried to handle the creepy behavior) can be found here, and the full spoilers with all the details can be found in this post (also linked above).

A year after Red finally comes down from Mt. Silver, Green gets his head out of his ass long enough to ask Red out on a date.

Surprisingly, Red agrees. Even more surprisingly, the first date is actually a resounding success. Sure, Green panics for half an hour about what to wear, and it gets off to an incredibly awkward start — Red’s mother is hovering anxiously in a corner because he insisted that it be at his mother’s diner, the douchebag, so they spend twenty minutes in stilted conversation while Green makes attempts at small talk and Red gives monosyllabic answers — has he mentioned that Red is a total douchebag? But then Green loses his temper and starts shouting, which gets Red fired up at last, so they start bickering over training regimens, Green’s childhood dickishness, and that time Red vanished up a mountain for four years, and by the end of the meal, they’ve hashed out most of their issues.

On impulse, he grabs Red’s hand on the way out, and Red lets him. His fingers curl around Green’s in response, and it sends a jolt of electricity right up to his spine.

This is . . . good. It’s new and unfamiliar and a little terrifying, and sometimes Green just wants to bury his head into a pillow and scream angrily to deal with the confused tornado raging in his chest, because what the hell are emotions, but it’s good.

A month after they make it official, Green brings Red to a gym leader meeting. Red gets a couple of surprised looks when he walks in, but it fades quickly, and Misty waves him over to the usual corner where she, Brock, and Green sit. If anyone asks, Green is prepared to point out that Red’s still technically champion, but no one does. Everyone must like him enough that it doesn’t matter.

They wait till after the meeting, when everyone’s milling about and talking to each other, in order to announce that they’re dating. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“What? Green?” Misty shrieks, while Sabrina looks at him with silently judging disapproval.

“Oh my,” Erika says delicately, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

“Red, no!” Brock wails.

Green is pretty sure he should be offended. These are his colleagues, after all. He’s been working with them for half a decade — when’s the last time Red even talked to any of these people? Why are they all on his side?

Surge snorts, arms folded. Just when Green thinks he might restore some sanity to the proceedings, he declares, “Think again, boy. You’re not tough enough to make the cut.”

Green bristles immediately. He and Surge have always had a slightly contentious relationship, because Surge is all hard-nosed discipline and Green is — well, he can admit that he’s a cocky bastard. “And why do I need your approval to date Red anyways?” he sneers, with the full disdainful force of all his teenage attitude. The contempt is not hard to muster up. Nobody here is related to them, and even if they were, he and Red are both adults who can make their own decisions.

As expected, Surge stiffens at the implicit taunt in his voice, but just as the tension is about to boil over into an argument, Erika steps in with a raised hand and a warning glare to silence him. “Surge,” she says, and that one word is all she needs to restore order.

Before Green can feel grateful for their calm, sensible supervisor, she turns to him and resumes the thread of conversation. “We have a league,” Erika informs him, serene. “You may not date Red until you defeat all of us.”

Green’s jaw drops open. “Are you serious,” he says, and looks to Red, who just shrugs.

Great. Big load of help he is.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. And I’m afraid you’re no match for me,” Blaine says, before laughing at his own stupid pun.

“Why the hell are you so concerned about Red’s love life anyways? What are you, his possessive loser exes?” Green demands.

He’s expecting a response like, “Don’t be ridiculous,” but instead, to his horror, Erika merely smiles. “What do you think?” she says.

Silence.

Green stares at his colleagues, the seven elite trainers who have been charged with safeguarding all of Kanto, and wonders if he’s losing his mind. Has his hearing gone? He doesn’t think he’s that old, but maybe it’s hereditary. God knows how many times Gramps has misheard his name.

He knows Misty had a crush on Red at one point, but all of them? How the hell did that happen? Red’s never exactly been Kid Casanova here — some days, Green can barely believe Red seduced him — and when did he even have the time for that? He’s spent most of the years since he’s met them alone on a mountain! And hold on a second, Blaine is at least four decades older than him! For that matter, how old is Surge?

Green is about to have an aneurysm.

He holds his head in both hands as he struggles to wrap his mind around the concept. “Okay. So you’re saying all of you have dated Red, and now I need to defeat you to date him,” he says slowly, hoping that saying it out loud will make things sound more reasonable. It doesn’t. It just makes his head hurt even more.

What’s worse, Erika doesn’t correct anything he said. She just smiles and nods. “That’s right,” she says, and as if that’s a cue, the others fall in line behind her in a perfect V formation, sliding into battle-ready stances with smiles just shading into predatory. All traces of friendliness have evaporated, turning them into consummate professionals. Even Brock has dropped the doofy attitude for something serious. Surge’s grin is a little too maniacal for comfort, exposing both gums and teeth, and combined with the glint in his eyes, it’s downright feral.

Green takes a step back, almost involuntarily, and sees Surge’s smile widen in response. Out of spite, Green squares his shoulders and moves back in place, pretending he’s not as uneasy as he actually feels. He scans the seven faces before him, hoping to see a sign of their normal collegial acceptance, but their faces are as solid as stone.

He can’t say he really expected anything else from them. This pose is familiar and well-rehearsed, and they’re all beyond the point where they let the mask slip during official business. Still, Green was hoping that there would be some sign that things would be different for him. After all, this isn’t official business, and in any other situation, Green would be there too, flashing one of his trademark smirks while staring down whatever poor schmuck who Erika decided had earned their ire. But this time, it’s not some hapless criminal or an interfering bureaucrat. He’s the schmuck, and for once in his life, he’s feeling the part.

Green knows he shouldn’t feel this rattled by a battle stance. As a fellow gym leader, it’s easy to notice all the work that went into constructing it, and the flash of eyes and tilt of head that Erika used as a signal is all too familiar. But it gnaws at his stomach anyways, and it’s not even because all his colleagues have turned against him at the drop of a hat. It’s the space. Or the lack of it. Because the spot where he would be standing has already been taken up. Misty and Brock closed the gap without so much as an exchanged look, and in doing so, they’ve erased his years as Viridian Gym Leader like it was nothing.

He didn’t think it would be so easy to replace him.

Green looks at the inch-wide gap between them and swallows, hoping he can swallow down the uncomfortable lump at the bottom of his chest along with it. He’s always tried to ignore it, but sometimes, he gets this sneaking suspicion that they haven’t fully accepted him as one of their own. They’re civil, of course, and sometimes even kind. But kind is different from warm, and that’s what he thinks they lack.

He can’t nail down exactly what it is that separates him from the rest — in terms of join date, Janine’s less than a year his senior, and he doesn’t think any of them except Surge would hold his old, immature attitude against him, since he was mostly grown out of his bratty stage by the time he took over Viridian. But none of that has banished the [sinking feeling] that he’s on the outside, just a little.

So he’s kept his head down like an animal exposing its belly, and every time the doubt rears its ugly head, he redoubles his efforts to earn his way in. He had a hard road from the start, with the stain of Giovanni’s legacy seeped into his gym’s very foundations, but over the years, he’s earned fantastic evaluations, the loyalty of a cohort of talented trainers, and an official commendation here and there. He’s even got a sickeningly gushy page in the Viridian guidebook that made Red laugh at him for twenty minutes straight after one of his challengers showed it to him. When you’re on a mountain with bad reception, those twenty minutes count for a lot.

Green carries all his accomplishments with him, close to his chest, but they don’t do much to dispel the doubts that hang like ghosts in the back of his head. And he thinks that if he stays quiet and still for too long, they might eat him away until he’s nothing.

He sucks in a breath, but his lungs don’t feel like they’re absorbing air. He presses his hands against his thighs, but that doesn’t do anything to ease the trembling. He tries to count in his head. One. Two.

“Wow,” says Red’s voice from behind him. “I didn’t know that all it took to defeat the great Green Oak was dramatic posing.”

The sound of that innocent tone sends Green whirling around on instinct. “Oh, shut up, like you can talk!” he shouts, and it comes out as easy as breathing, so easy that he doesn’t notice how much lighter he feels at first. “All it took to defeat you was realizing Mt. Silver would never return your love!”

“The mountain and I have something special. You’ll never understand, Green,” Red says, very seriously. If it were anyone but Green, they might’ve believed he meant it, but you don’t grow up with someone and not know when they’re just yanking your chain.

“You know, the only thing I got out of being your childhood friend is the ability to tell when you’re being a dick,” Green tells him sourly.

“Love you too,” Red croons, and okay, he’s definitely doing that on purpose. But if he’s doing it to be a distraction, it’s working.

He brushes his hand against Red’s. “Thanks,” he says, low enough so that only Red can hear it. Red curls his fingers around the palm of his hand and looks him in the eye, unspoken question burning in his gaze.

In response, Green draws a breath, takes one final glance at his erstwhile colleagues, and nods.

He can do this.

What he might not be able to do, Green reflects as he starts his first match, is endure any more of Brock’s stupid rock references.

“My Pokemon and I are all rock-hard,” Brock declares proudly. He’s always been cheesy and goofy — probably because of all those younger siblings — but his horrible battle introductions have always taken the cake. And does he realize that by doing this, he’s also teaching his siblings about innuendo? Maybe that’s why they giggle at him all the time.

In all honesty, once you get past all the quirks, Brock is kind of an admirable person. You don’t raise nine kids without earning some respect from Green Oak, and he knows all too well about growing up with absent father figures. But unlike Green, Brock didn’t let that hurt define him growing up. Instead, Brock took on that responsibility without reserve and without complaint, and he grew with it to become a good man. A lot of kind, loving people would’ve broken with it. In comparison, really awful puns and a tendency to hit on every girl in the room aren’t that bad. At least he’s sincere about it instead of just being a sleaze.

But Brock makes it really goddamn hard to get past those quirks. And when he starts urging Onix to use Harden, that only proves his point.

Things go downhill from there.

With the proximity of their gyms, it’s convenient for Green and Brock to have practice matches together, and he uses the knowledge he’s gleaned from those to plow him down in their fastest match yet, one eye twitching the entire time. There’s no way Brock could be making that many hardness references by accident. “I took you for granted, and so I lost,” Brock says glumly. Then he looks in Red’s direction and cries, “Red, my love, I have failed you!” throwing an arm across his face theatrically. Geez, get a grip. Or a life. Or both.

But instead of treating him with the contempt Brock deserves for this patheticness, his traitor boyfriend pats him on the back sympathetically. Ugh, why is he even dating this jerk?

At any rate, at least this catastrophe is over. “Loser,” Green scoffs, and heads out to schedule his next match. He catches Red giving Brock a shrug before following after him.

He never thought he’d say this, but thank god Misty is the Water type Gym Leader. After rocks, they have the most potential for innuendo, but Misty has too much angry dignity to be caught dead like that. If someone tried, steam would come out of her ears and she’d probably yell something about disrespecting the beauty of water types. This shouldn’t be an issue again until Blaine.

Misty might not be a fan of innuendo, but she makes up for it with determination and skill. There’s something different about her this time, a strength in her stance that didn’t used to be there, and it centers Misty too much for him to rattle her.

The first time they fought, she was fourteen years old to Green’s thirteen, a skinny kid who bristled with her inferiority complex and hated anything to do with flowers. Provoking her was a piece of cake, and any suggestion of her inadequacy could send her into a spiral of rage or just as easily send her collapsing in tears.

In hindsight, it is funny how Misty rejected her famous family while Green embraced his too much, opposite ends of the same spectrum. Green dealt with his issues with his cockiness, Misty with her anger.

This Misty is fully in control. She holds the reins to her anger and reels it in, harnessing it as fuel instead of distraction. She’s ruling her emotions instead of letting them rule her, and in doing so, she’s taken on a bright, focused zeal he’s never seen from her before.

She’s growing into herself, he thinks, and out of her sisters’ shadows.

He’d be proud of her if she wasn’t giving him such a hard time right now.

“You definitely weren’t this hard to beat the first time around!” Green growls, sending out his Scizor.

“Oh, that was just business,” Misty says, rather cheerfully, enough so that Green wants to wring her neck. Her smile widens to just this side of menacing. “This is personal.”

Green gets out of it with his dignity intact, but it’s a close one. Not for the first time, he rues having taken over an Earth-based gym, because it means he has to keep at least a respectable amount of Ground types in his regular training rota and he’s a far less flexible trainer now.

“About time you showed up,” Surge says, arms folded, boots planted shoulder width apart. Green looks at the severe military cut and the stern expression and wonders what Red ever saw in him. It can’t be a thing for older men, everyone but Surge and Blaine are within a few years of Red. It can’t even be a thing for men. The league is half women, after all.

“Why did you date him anyways?” he hisses to his boyfriend, low enough that Surge won’t hear.

Red shrugs. “We both like Pikachu,” he said.

The utter loser.

“I can’t believe you,” Green mutters in disgust. “And people think I’m shallow.”

“It was only once or twice,” Red says, in what sounds suspiciously like a consoling tone. He pats Green on the shoulder a few times.

He stares at him in confusion until the dots connect. “What the — I’m not jealous!” Green cries indignantly. He’s just perplexed, and that’s a very different thing. Green Oak is above such petty things as jealousy.

Red just pats him on the shoulder some more.

Green Oak also does not need such things as consoling, so before his boyfriend can be even more of a passive aggressive dick, he turns to Surge. “Let’s just get this over with.” And maybe it’s sheer frustration or his natural tendency to be a brat to Surge, or maybe it’s just type advantage finally being on his side for once, but for some reason, this time the victory comes easier than all the previous.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Green?” Erika asks. She cocks her head to the side, and for the first time since he accepted this stupid challenge, Green feels a sense of trepidation. Erika is, after all, kind of his boss, and she’s also one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met.

You wouldn’t think it to look at her. Most of the people in Kanto never get the chance to see anything more than a sweet woman who likes gardening and flower arrangements. Her colleagues, on the other hand, experience a whole different side of her, with all the talents that got her appointed as Kanto supervisor. Things like her ability to calmly reason with anyone, her backbone of steel, and a carefully hidden serial killer crazy that can outstrip Surge at his worst.

He breaks out into a cold sweat. Is he ready for this? Sure, he’s beaten her before, but the first time he battled her, he was still stupid enough to think Erika was soft and beating her would be easy, and weirdly enough, that stupidity gave him the reckless brilliance he needed to take her down instead of causing his downfall. He might’ve become a better battler in the meantime, but now he’s too cautious to use those same crazy strategies and he also knows that she was taking it easy on him — all gym leaders adjust their level to their opponent’s in official matches.

More than ever, Green is acutely aware of the differences between him and his thirteen year old self. There was a kind of fearlessness that came with being young and feeling like the world was at your fingertips. He spent pretty much his entire Pokemon journey swaggering around like being thirteen meant he was now a real adult and the world would just fall at his feet, and even losing the championship to Red didn’t quite jolt him out of it. Green’s only eighteen now, but he feels unbearably older, more off balance, uncertain of everything he needs to do. It’s funny how he couldn’t wait to get older when he first set out from Pallet Town, but now he just wants the carefree bravado of thirteen again. Why did he decide to grow up? Who told him it was a good idea?

“Backing out now, Green?” says a dry, challenging voice, and all the air goes out of his lungs. But in a good way.

He didn’t have this at thirteen.

Now that he’s back in reality, Green pulls up his disdain like a barrier against his fear. “As if,” he sneers.

“Good. After all, you still have to win me,” Red says. He bats his eyelashes, and the sight is so horrifying that it wipes all thoughts of Erika from his head immediately. “Your princess awaits inside the castle.”

“Princess? Yeah, right. You’d never be able to pull off the dress,” he shoots back automatically. He feels himself ease, the seas inside him settling down as he sinks into the rhythm of the familiar. He even lifts his chin and smirks as he says, “You know what, I think I change my mind. Let’s call the whole thing off, I need someone who’s better-looking than you.”

“Aw, but nothing’s as ugly as your personality,” Red says, and that tone would sound sweet if it weren’t coming from someone who’s halfway allergic to sincerity. But at the same time, he covers Green’s hand with his and gives him a smile like a secret. “You can do it,” he says, with an iron, quiet faith.

Green breathes out, long and slow. “You’re right, I can,” he says, turning back to Erika. He flashes her a smirk full of confidence that he’s actually starting to feel and declares, “I won’t back down.” It comes out as an oath, and he’s not sure if it’s to himself or to Red, but he knows he won’t lose.

She shrugs elegantly, but it doesn’t feel like as much of a threat this time. She’s just an ordinary woman now. “Very well,” she says, and sends out Tangela.

Throughout the battle, Red doesn’t let go of his hand.

Sabrina’s waiting at the door of her gym when Green and Red walk up to the entrance. “You’ve arrived, as I predicted,” she says.

“Uh, yeah, we scheduled the match in advance,” Green points out. Beside him, he can hear Red muffling already-quiet laughter. Why does he enjoy Green’s discomfort? Is he just a sadist?

“We did not arrange that you would arrive twenty minutes early,” Sabrina responds, and turns around to lead him inside before Green can get the last word.

Green fights the urge to make a rude gesture at her back out of sheer spite. He and Sabrina have never been that close. They have a shared interest in freaking people out for fun and games, but Sabrina does it by being sinister and cryptic, while Green prefers sheer power with a dash of douchebaggery instead of mind screws. Even though he knows he’s still a total dick, being around Sabrina makes him feel weirdly benevolent in comparison.

In that regard, she’s a little more like Red—they’re both closed-mouthed and hold their cards close to their chest until something makes them give them away. But it’s weird to think that Sabrina is anything like his boyfriend, so Green shuts off that train of thought as fast as he can. He can’t really explain why he likes Red so much more than Sabrina. It’s not just shared history, there’s something deeper there between them that he can’t quantify. Maybe it’s just that the things Red holds to his chest align with Green’s own brand of awfulness, maybe it’s just that Sabrina somehow manages to be even weirder than Red.

Whatever the case, Sabrina’s tactics might have a point. This battle feels like the worst one yet, not because of the difficulty, but because of the tense, hard air in the gym, Sabrina’s ever-present smile like another ghost skulking in the background. This battle doesn’t excite him, it just exhausts him. He just wants it to be over, and in his haste, he makes mistakes. Sloppy ones, like trying to use Tackle against Gengar even though he’s grown up knowing Normal type moves don’t work on Ghost types. It doesn’t help that the mere presence of Gengar in the Psychic gym had thrown him off to begin with.

Sabrina seems to be sensing his discomfort, because the funny little grin on her face widens with his growing unease. For the first time, he truly sees what a formidable opponent she is, wielding both psychic powers and psychology against her challengers to damage them physically and mentally. It was another thing that his complete and utter self-confidence had made him immune to the first time.

Idly, he wonders if that was the point of this, one big scheme to make him appreciate his colleagues more as trainers. If so, it worked. But was he really that bad before? Maybe he’d ask Erika once this awful quest was over.

If that is the case, though, ironically, it’s also her undoing, because as the match goes on, Green also starts to see the woman he knows inside the mysterious figure at the other end of the gym, and focusing on that familiarity helps combat the unease. In the end, Green can’t really say that it’s his skill that wins the day. It feels more like luck, just a game of who can outlast the other and he happened to draw the winning card. But when Alakazam falls, it seems to break the spell over the room. The lingering tension dissipates, just as ghostly as the atmosphere that had created it, and the world comes back into focus.

Sabrina looks at her fallen Pokemon and, bizarrely, smiles as she recalls it back into its Pokeball. “Your love for Red overwhelmed my psychic power . . . The power of love, I think, is also a kind of psychic power . . .” Sabrina intones.

“Okay?” Green says. Even ignoring the psychic powers, Sabrina has always been a weirdo.

Sabrina says something else, but he’s not really paying attention. Instead, he grabs his boyfriend’s wrist. “Red, let’s get out of here,” he says. He’s ready to blow this joint, and if he has to be in this creepy gym much longer, he’s going to make that literal.

Out of all the other Gym Leaders, Green thinks Janine might be his polar opposite. Sure, they’re around the same age and their names kind of rhyme, but Green is brash and confident and walks like he owns the place, while Janine . . . well, Janine is naive and enthusiastic to the point where she’s pretty much tripping over her own feet. She seems too young for her authority, while Green wields his so easily that people are startled when they find out his actual age.

It’s weird to think that Red could date two such different people. Heck, it’s weird to think that he could get two such different people to date him. Maybe he realized he didn’t like that type and that’s why he’s dating Green now, he muses.

That still doesn’t explain why both Janine and Green agreed to date him. Insanity? That must be it, because it also explains why he’s fighting all of his colleagues over his dick of a childhood friend.

But the biggest difference between them, Green thinks, is that Janine has never gotten over her yearning for her absent father. She still desperately wants to make Koga proud. Even now, he sees in the way she forms her stance that she’s trying to follow his teachings.

Still, in spite of their [different] reactions, struggling to cope with the fame of their family line and its looming shadow over their entire lives is something they have in common. Someday, she’ll have to figure out how she wants to be a gym leader, separate from her father’s legacy. Someday, she’ll have to make a name for herself as Janine, Gym Leader of Fuschia City and not Janine, daughter of Koga. No one will ever respect her if she doesn’t — Green’s learned that the hard way.

Someday, she will have to walk her own path. But that day is not today.

“Are you ready, Green? Cause I’m not going to wait for you to catch up!” Janine calls, sounding very un-ninja-like. Green briefly mourns the loss of the mystique. He used to think ninjas were cool.

“It’s my duty to defeat you on the behalf of all evil exes everywhere!”

“You can’t be serious,” Green says.

“Sure, I am!” Janine says. She pulls out a small, colorful rectangle from somewhere with her magical ninja arts and waves it around. “After all, I’m a card-carrying member of Red’s League of Evil Exes!”

There are cards now. Green looks at his boyfriend and says, “Red, what did you do to them?”

Red just looks at them and shrugs, looking mildly confused himself. But not confused enough that he’ll actually do something about it, Green notes sourly.

Cinnabar’s volcanoes are as fascinating as always, but Green is too busy stewing to enjoy it. He marches past all the ads for hot spring resorts and into the Gym, braced for what lies ahead of him. Blaine is waiting for him inside. “You’ve made it, my boy,” he said, and the expression on his face is almost like a proud parent.

Green scowls. He used to respect Blaine. He is, after all, one of the finest scientific minds in all of Kanto, and while Green isn’t a scientist, Gramps has instilled him with a healthy respect for their work. Even the punning had been bearable. He had earned the right for a quirk.

But this? This was going too far.

Blaine at least has the decency to wait until they’re all set up for battle before he springs the next part of his awful sense of humor on him. “And now, a quiz! What makes you worthy to date Red?” Blaine asks.

“What made you worthy? You’re an old man! Red was a teenager!” Green shoots back. He’s pretty fuzzy on the timeline of Red’s awful lovelife, but there’s no way Red was any older than fifteen whenever the hell they dated. He’s pretty sure Red wasn’t in some demented long distance relationship while still on that goddamn mountain.

Blaine gives him a creaky shrug. “What can I say? Red really lights a fire in my heart,” he chuckles.

“I’m reporting you to Officer Jenny when this is over,” Green informs him. Gym leader or not, perverted old creeps shouldn’t be allowed in society. Especially not the punning ones.

But reporting him to the officer and letting her punish him for his sins would be cheating if Green does it before he beats Blaine fair and square. He doubts the rest of this stupid league would accept that as defeating Blaine and their ridiculous challenge, so he sends out Rhydon and prepares for a fight.

After an excruciating moment, Arcanine falls.

“Oh,” says Red’s voice. Green looks over his shoulder to see him standing along the wall of the gym, near the entrance. It’s completely like the sneaky bastard to come in secret and Green can’t even be mad at him as he looks at the battlefield and asks, “Is it over?”

For a moment, Green doesn’t know how to answer him. He doesn’t even know how to speak. He just breathes, as the adrenaline drains out of his lungs and euphoria replaces it. His shoulders slump. He looks at the ceiling. It’s over. This ridiculous journey is finally over. He can now date Red in peace.

And then the applause starts.

Erika is the first one to emerge, from behind one of the outcroppings of rock near the back of the gym. Brock is next, followed by Misty, while Surge, Janine, and Sabrina come out from the other side. They form a line at the head of the gym, and bizarrely, every single one of them is clapping, even Surge, though he looks like he’s been forced into it. While Green looks at them, too stunned to react, Blaine moves back to take a spot next to Sabrina.

“Congratulations, Green,” Erika says, smiling. She looks genuinely happy for him, as does Janine, but Surge still looks vaguely murderous and Brock looks like he might cry with happiness.

“What’s going on?” Green demands. On closer inspection, Brock’s “about to cry” face is more like a father watching his child leaving on a Pokemon journey, so proud that it’s spilled over to sad. It worsens the distinct feeling that something’s been going on in the background that he doesn’t know about.

Erika coughs delicately. “I’m afraid we must admit to a deception,” she says, serene as ever. “We are not actually a league of Red’s exes.”

If Green gets any more revelations in the next week, he’s going to have a stroke.

After a beat of frozen silence, he splutters out, “You’re not?” in a tone that’s half confusion, half demand for an explanation. He looks all around him and then waves his hand at the entire gym, a gesture which turns sharp and wild with his anger. “Then what was all of this for?”

“Well, we’re not a league of Red’s exes, but we are all members of ‘Red’s League of Allies Against His Evil Ex-Best Friend Who Broke His Heart,’” Misty explains. She frowns at him. “He was pretty torn up over you during his Pokemon journey, you know.”

Dumbfounded, all Green can manage is, “You can’t be serious.”

“But we are,” Janine says earnestly. She produces her card out of nowhere again and hands it over to Green, who’s now close enough to read the letters embossed on the front. It does, as she’s claimed, state Gym Leader Janine of Fuschia City to be a member of Red’s League of Allies Against His Evil Ex-Best Friend Who Broke His Heart. It’s even made out of red plastic.

Well. One part of him is touched to know that Red had valued their friendship so deeply. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, with his stoic man of mystery act.

The other part is just plain indignant. “That was over five years ago!” Green screeches. They started their journeys when they were thirteen, for God’s sake!

A new thought occurs to him. “And if this was all fake, why was Brock going on about his love and hardening?”

“Did he? Oh, that scenery-chewing ham! I knew he would get carried away!” Misty says in disgust.

“I was trying to go for realism!” Brock protests

“That’s only realism for you, you sleazy flirt!” she snaps, and yanks at his ear.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he yelps.

While Misty’s handling that headache, Green tries to replay the conversation where this all started. “I was the one who first brought up the idea that you were exes,” he mumbles, a little horrified.

“Once you made the assumption, I thought it might work to our advantage,” Erika explains calmly. “A test of your reaction to his supposedly storied history, so to speak.”

“So you just made it up on the spot?” Green says, nearly speechless. How on earth had he fallen for a hastily thrown together scheme? What had it even been centered around, seeing if he was the kind of douchebag who’d storm off and call Red a slut? He’s Green Oak. You don’t get to be one of the top trainers in Kanto by the time you’re fifteen without being a good strategist.

Then again, clearly, all of his colleagues are absolutely insane. No one ever taught Green how to anticipate that.

Erika smiles apologetically. “Please do forgive us, Green, but we had to make sure you two were serious about this. Your friendship ended so badly, and we didn’t want this to end the same way. After all, the poor boy was so heartbroken that he went up a mountain to get away from you.”

Green’s jaw drops. “Okay, that one was not my fault!” He’s willing to accept the blame for being a dick, for being generally unhelpful with Team Rocket, and a lot of other things, but he draws the line at the goddamn mountain.

“Sabrina?” asks Janine curiously.

The psychic in question is studying her nails, looking bored. “My powers aren’t meant to be used for answering this sort of nonsense,” she says. “Ask him yourself.”

“Hold up!” Green shouts, before they can get too off topic. “How was this supposed to make sure I was serious about him?”

“You can be a fickle, capricious sort of person, Green,” Erika explains. “So we thought that, with a series of challenges in your way, if this was some kind of idle whim, you would abandon your quest.”

Green tries to wrap his head around that logic and fails. “How was that supposed to work?” he demands. “What if I was just in it for the challenge of beating the entire Kanto League again and not for Red?”

Erika just smiles. “You don’t have enough of a death wish for that,” she says, like she’s sentencing someone to execution.

Green freezes and feels his spine go rigidly straight at the sound of her tone. That smile looks sweet at first glance, but it’s just a little too perfect, a little too gentle, carefully controlled in a way that says she could easily let that control snap at a moment’s notice. It’s the kind of smile that might be the last thing you see before you die.

Holy Arceus, there are no words in the universe to describe how terrifying Erika is.

Green breaks eye contact as soon as he can and shakes his head a few times, just to get out the lingering feeling of dread. He quickly turns his mind to another topic. “Okay, so who really has dated Red?” he asks, just to get everything straightened out once and for all.

“None of us. Particularly not me,” Blaine answers. “You young whippersnappers are practically infants.”

“Misty did ask him out once, but he turned her down,” Brock chips in.

“Hey! That was years ago, and I’m over him anyways!” Misty splutters, cheeks bright red. She shoulders him hard in the chest and snarls, “Stop bringing that up!” still blushing furiously.

“Ow, that hurts!” Brock yelps.

“You deserve it!” Misty hollers back, and the two of them start arguing again.

You know what, maybe Green doesn’t need to get revenge for all the innuendo after all. Misty’s been doing a pretty good job of enacting it for the both of them.

Misty stomps on Brook’s foot, and Blaine winces. “Please don’t call Officer Jenny,” he says.

In the chaos, Green realizes there’s one party they’ve forgotten about entirely. “And you!” He whirls around and points at his erstwhile boyfriend, whose expression is blankly nonchalant. To a stranger, he might’ve even looked innocent. “There’s no way they could’ve gotten away with it unless you played along! But you haven’t dated any of them!”

“Nope,” he confirms, wearing a funny little smile on his face. He’s clearly enjoying himself, and the smugness of his expression only increases as he coos out, “You’re my one and only.”

That tone he’s using is the stuff of nightmares, and Green blanches, reeling back on instinct. He can hear Red laughing at him inside his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, refusing to let that deter him.

“It was funny,” Red says, and then, in a perfect deadpan, “Besides, it was a nice revenge. You drove me up a mountain, after all.”

Green is at least seventy-five percent certain that isn’t true and Red’s just playing along to be a douchebag. “Why, you—!” he growls, and instinct born of ten years of childhood games takes over. He tackles him to the ground, fisting his hands into his shirt so he can drag him up by the collar. He hears someone shout behind him, and it’s probably because they’re a little too old for roughhousing, but Red, Red understands him. Red doesn’t panic or protest. Red just lifts his head to meet his glare with a smirk, and then leans up, grabs his head, and kisses him.

There’s still noise in the background, but it fades away as the world becomes nothing but Red.

Later, while they’re falling asleep, Green asks, “You didn’t really go up the mountain because I broke your heart, did you?”

“No,” Red answers, but before Green can let out a breath of relief, he says, “I went up there cause you were so annoying that I wanted a break from you.”

In a display of supreme maturity, Green kicks Red in the shins. Some things never change.

#Fanfiction #Pokemon #OriginalShipping #Green Oak #Red #Crack #Scott Pilgrim AU #At Last I Am Rid of the Albatross

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khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

Sleepy Ass

“ She's literally like 5 feet away from me While I'm recording this, sleeping on the couch This is for her, sleepy ass “

It was casual but the way Dabin ran his fingers through your tousled hair meant so much more to you than he could ever know. The fact that he would slide out of a recording to sit beside you, his movements careful so he wouldn’t disturb you.

“Was that the last one?” Dabin asked.

Christian nodded, “We can stop there for tonight.” His words were spoken softly aware of your light snoring. You had become a staple of the studio. The guys had started referring to that couch as yours as they teasingly called you Snorlax, comparing you to the fictional teal and beige pokemon that often unmovingly slept in any and all spaces.

Your feet swung up and down from their position over the armrest as your ears picked up on their conversation. Somehow you always managed to sleep soundly enough that their work went unnoticed but you knew when it was time to go home. “Are we leaving?” you asked, opening your eyes enough to catch your boyfriends slightly curved lips.

“It’s amazing how you always wake up on time.”

The dim lighting did little to help you wake up. It sort of lulls you into consciousness until you were stretching out and relaxing back into the soft leather beneath you.

Dabin took your outstretched hands into his to help you up on your feet. He caught you as you leaned into him feigning fatigue.

“I bet you were one of those students that never got caught sleeping in class.”

You nodded, “I’m always aware of my surroundings, call it natural born instincts.”

Just then Scott entered the studio, a teasing grin on his face as he carried a couple bags of food the guys had ordered a while ago. “Oh look, Snorlax woke up just in time.”

“I’m starting to think you guys are bullying me.”

The chorus of laughter was proof enough that no harm was intended. Everyone thought of you as a sister and befittingly picked on you.

\\\

“ I wrote this while I'm watching you sleep You're behind me on the couch and in the studio So I'm gonna make this all about sleep And soft so I don't wake you up You're smiling as you sleep so you dig it Only I can make some soft shit and rip it I knew you were dope from the jump like ribbit Cuz all these other girls fall short like midgets “

Tonight it was just you and Dabin in the studio. You were motivated to stay awake and keep him company but it was easier said than done after a long day at work. “Hmmm?” You laid back on the soft leather couch as you yawned for the fifth time that night. “What did you say?” You had zoned out for a second not catching Dabin’s question.

“If you’re that tired I can take you home.”

“No,” you insisted you could tough it out. “I wanna hear you.”

The problem was the music, for some reason an extremely soft melody kept playing from the speakers. It seemed this new song was going to be on the softer side.

Dabin smirked hoping you would fall asleep soon. The one time he needed you to sleep you decide to stay awake. He peeked back over his shoulder slightly to watch you struggle with the sandman.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for you to lay your head back. Your arms crossed across your chest as you huddled into a ball feeling slightly colder than usual. Lazily, you reached out for his jacket that had been thrown onto the couch at the beginning.

With the newfound warmth, you finally knocked out once more allowing him the opportunity to finally work on the lyrics a bit more.

His first anniversary with you was approaching. In the span of a year he had found himself falling hard. He almost never wanted to away from you, enjoying even the most mundane tasks as long as you were by his side.

That’s how he got the idea to make a song about you.

When he thought about other artists that dedicated songs to their loved ones or significant others he realized they always seemed to be so profound. He wanted to keep things simple and fun. The song had to be something fitting for your relationship- a casual encounter that blossomed into this year-long relationship.

\\\

“ If I make this Then maybe you will wake up and get naked Girl I'm playing, girl I'm playing, girl I'm playing Maybe not “

“What do you like the most about me?”

“Wha-” you nearly choked on your own saliva at the sudden question. “Why all of a sudden?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Well,” you took a hold of his hand. The two of you were on your way home after yet another recording session. You were still half asleep so you were caught off guard at first but now you were fully awake, the gears in your head turning. “It’s not one particular thing. I just love you, all of you.”

He eyed you up and down with a subtle mischevious grin, “I love all of you too.”

“Not like that-” you blushed feeling flustered by the hidden meaning in his seemingly innocent words. “Although I guess also like that...” your voice became a whisper as you struggled to recompose yourself.

Dabin laughed happy to have successfully teased you.

Your mind began to deviate thinking of your boyfriend in THAT way.

“What about you,” you asked in order to get cool your thoughts. “Is there something you like about me in particular?”

“I like to watch you sleep.” Dabin knew that sounded creepy on its own but trusted that you, as his girlfriend, would understand what he meant by that. He had mentioned before how relaxing it was to sleep beside you. The warmth of your body next to his coupled with the sound of your steady breathing ultimately became something he looked forward to.

“I like watching you sleep too.” There was a short pause before you smiled brightly and confessed further, “your snoring is cute.”

Dabin stopped momentarily unable to recall any moment when the roles were reversed and you were the one doing the observing. First of all, he didn’t even know he snored.

“It’s very subtle,” if you were a heavy sleeper you were sure to miss it but with your high awareness, you had been woken up multiple times. During that time you would wake up with a smile. You would even give him a kiss before falling back asleep. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper Dabin.”

He was inclined to believe you now.

“I could probably do more than just kiss you,” you winked.

Now you were the one teaing him.

But he wouldn’t allow it to continue that way for long. “Just wait until we get home.” He would make sure to repay every last kiss you stole from him.

-end-

A/N: I don’t know if anyone remembers but I asked a long time ago to see who this should be about and at the time Dabin won over Sik-k and Changmo.

#khh scenarios #dpr live scenarios #dabin scenarios #hong dabin scenarios #dpr scenarios #khh #dpr #dpr live #hong dabin #Dabin #khh imagines #khh fanfiction #khh fanfic #khiphop scenarios #dpr dabin #Khiphop #khiphop fics

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renaerys · 4 years

Text

PPG One-Shot: Under the Stars (Brick/Blossom)

Written for the inaugural challenge prompt on PPG Challenge Hub on AO3 for the prompt “things you said under the stars,” hosted by @kiebs, @carriedreamerx, and me. Also functions as a Part 3 to the Shooketh, Not Stirred series. You can read Part 1 and Part 2 here on Tumblr or on my AO3.

Summary: In which Blossom decides she is definitely girlfriend material, and so does everybody else.

***We are welcoming more submissions for this prompt for the month of July! If you want to participate, please check out the PPG Challenge Hub collection on AO3.***

xxx

Nothing short of witchcraft could have held Buttercup’s 1997 Ford F-Series pickup truck together as it ambled over rocky switchbacks and through dense, Redwood forest to the Vista Lakes campgrounds for the Townsville High Junior and Senior classes’ biannual end-of-semester party. Blossom kept a stranglehold on the passenger door and hissed her displeasure over every dip that lurched the old truck too close to the edge of the road. The drop to the bottom of the mountain was a good thousand feet, a death knell for the Normies riding along with them.

Mitch and Harry, however, did not seem to mind as much.

“Oh shit!” Mitch whooped when Buttercup went over a particularly deep crag in the road and rocked the whole truck.

“Buttercup, please slow down,” Blossom pleaded.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Mitch said through the sliding window that opened up onto the truck bed, where he and Harry rode with the sleeping bags, food, and extra blankets.

Harry laughed. “We’re cool Blossom, don’t worry.”

“Yeah Blossom, don’t worry,” Buttercup drawled. “Besides, it’s not like a fall from this height would kill us.”

“I’m sure Mitch and Harry feel super reassured to hear you say that,” Blossom said snidely.

“Super duper!” Mitch said. He flashed the rearview mirror a sign of the horns and winked.

Blossom forced herself to ignore his goading and kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead just in case. “I should never have agreed to this.”

“Well, tough shit, Leader Girl. You could’ve gotten a ride with Bubbles earlier if you’d left your Winter Break homework until the last day like everybody else, but noooooooo.”

“Not everybody waits until the last minute to get the homework done, for your information.”

“They totally do.”

“They totally don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t—ugh, no, I’m not arguing like this with you.”

Buttercup smirked like she’d won the argument (she definitely did not). “Whatever. We’re basically here and no one’s fallen to their death yet, so you can chill.”

The road emptied out onto a clearing overlooking the side of the mountain. Three deep, blue lakes sat still and tranquil, each surrounded by clusters of gnarled Redwoods and camp sites. A lot of people were already here considering the late hour, and a few campfires blazed bright along the shorelines. The gloaming crept over the horizon, casting the valley below in shadow and the skies in dusky, bleeding streaks of red like spilled wine. High above, blues deepened to blacks, but it was still early for stars.

Buttercup parked off the main campsite and the boys began unloading the truck bed. When they struggled with a cooler crammed full of ice, Blossom lifted it effortlessly and floated it over to join others that had already been packed with cheap beer and grill meat.

“Eyyyy there she is!” Boomer opened his arms and pulled Blossom into his letter jacket for a big hug. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Blossom returned his hug with a smile. “Me too.”

“I told you she would,” said Bubbles, and she nudged Butch who was busy putting away a plate piled high with four hamburgers. He took one look at Blossom and grinned.

“Hey, Highness,” Butch drawled.

Blossom shot him a withering look. “Hi, Butch.” Ever since she’d beaten him in a not-so-friendly spar while Buttercup was out of commission, he’d mellowed out and taken to nicknaming and weirdly friendly ribbing.

“Comin’ down from that pretty throne to hang with the cool kids, huh?”

He stuffed an entire burger in his mouth, while Blossom threw up a little in hers.

“Shut up, Butch. You sound like a creepy old man.” Buttercup arrived carrying two twenty-four packs of beer that she dropped in Butch’s lap. He caught them with a grunt, and Bubbles caught his plate of uneaten burgers.

“Bitch, you love every glistening inch of this.” Butch stood up shouldering the enormous beer crates like they weighed nothing, because they did.

“I love cold beer, so move your glistening ass.” Buttercup snatched one of his uneaten burgers and stuffed it in her mouth.

Somehow, Buttercup got Butch up and helping, and when Mitch and Harry joined them, it was short work to unload everything from Buttercup’s truck. Blossom rolled out her sleeping bag on the grass amidst all the others, but no one would be sleeping tonight. It was merely a courtesy for the too high or the too passed out.

Around the campsite, Juniors and Seniors lounged with beers and blunts, enjoying their last night together before Winter Break. Among them, Wes had his arm around Kim as he flipped hot dogs on a standing grill and chatted up Mike and Robin. Blossom watched them a moment, debating whether to interrupt the conversation to say hi.

Bubbles slipped her arm around Blossom’s waist and squeezed affectionately. “You look a little lost.”

“No, just hanging out, you know.” She returned the half embrace, and they stood there a moment enjoying the cool night air.

“Hey, Blossom! You wanna sit with us?” Harry called. He and a few others had set up some lawn chairs by the shore and were passing beers.

Bubbles giggled. “You know he likes you,” she said.

“What—He does?!” Blossom sputtered.

“For sure. And, you know, since you’re totally not with anybody else, you could have some fun talking to him.”

“You mean, flirt with him.”

Bubbles was as innocent as a lamb. “I mean, be nice to him. That could be fun, right?”

Blossom had nothing to say to that. She was not, in fact, “with” anybody else. And she had every right to talk to whomever of her friends she wanted, so technically Bubbles had a point, but…

Blossom searched the faces gathered. In the encroaching darkness, it was getting harder to pick out profiles and bright colors to see who was here and who hadn’t yet arrived. “I don’t know.”

But Bubbles was already dragging her over to Harry’s circle and waving back to him. Seated in between Harry on one side and Kim on the other, Blossom was handed a burger and a beer and encouraged to participate in the conversation.

“My folks’re taking me to our cabin in Tahoe to go skiing over the break,” Harry was saying.

“That sounds fun,” Blossom said.

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure, if you count me eating snow every five feet when I can’t stop falling.”

“Come on, I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Oh, yeah? I bet it’d be a cake walk for you, Miss Snow Queen.” Harry grinned, and the corners of his dark eyes crinkled cutely.

“Just because I have ice powers doesn’t make me a Winter sports maven. I’ve never skied in my life.”

“Psh, can’t be that hard, right? You start at the top of the mountain, and you end up at the bottom.”

Blossom bit back a smile. “I mean, I think it’s a little more involved than that.”

Harry laughed and leaned over the armrest closer to her. “Well, consider us both noobs. Anyway, most of the time’s spent hanging out at the cabin drinking hot chocolate anyway, right? Best part.”

Blossom tugged on her long, red ponytail as Harry continued to smile at her. She imagined the scene: a cozy ski lodge surrounded by snow, and a smiling boy content to ignore the blunt their friends were passing just to talk to her some more. She would like that. It would be easy, simple, and soft. Normal.

“Um, you know, I was thinking of inviting a few friends for a weekend. Just, like, a small group, and uh, well, I was wondering…” Harry stumbled in the dark looking for the question he meant to ask.

She could say yes, and she could have fun. With him, with any nice boy, it could be fun. How silly that just a few months ago, she had let herself believe she wasn’t the desirable type just because some mean girls said so. It all seemed so absurd now, and yet Blossom could not bring herself to give Harry the easy, simple, soft “yes” he wanted.

“Oh hey! You can have my seat, I’m grabbing more food,” said Kim on Blossom’s other side.

“Thanks.”

Like a hand to the stove, that voice hit her with a searing demand to be acknowledged. Old habits perhaps, or new ones. He wasn’t one to be ignored, not by her at least. Not these days.

“Brick,” Blossom said, half a question, half a sigh. She pulled back from Harry to look at him properly.

He’d taken Kim’s vacated seat directly next to her and nursed a solo cup of beer. Like her, he was dressed for the December chill in long sleeves, and his trademark red cap sat backwards over his short hair, as always. Red eyes held hers in a look that lingered.

“Blossom.” He spoke her name like a secret.

He was late. Why was he late? It wasn’t like him. She hadn’t seen him since third period yesterday. Was it only yesterday, or years ago?

“Hey, Brick,” Harry said, leaning over so he could see around Blossom. “Butch said you might not make it tonight.”

Blossom worried her lip between her teeth, and Brick took a long sip of beer as he slowly averted his gaze to Harry on her other side. “Here I am.”

“Uh, yeah, so Blossom,” Harry said. “About Tahoe…”

xxx

Blossom tugged on her ponytail as she turned back to Harry. Brick watched her twist her anxious fingers through her hair and narrowed his eyes.

“Hm? Oh, right,” she said.

“Yeah, so like I was saying, my parents’ cabin has a few extra bedrooms, so we could make a whole weekend out of it. Skiing, hot chocolate, the works. It’d be cool if you came. What do you say?”

“You throwing a rager?” Brick interrupted.

Harry leaned forward to see Brick again like he’d forgotten he was sitting there at all. “Nah man, just a couple friends for a weekend trip.”

“Cool. Who’s going?”

“Uh, I mean, I don’t have a list or anything. Sorta just came up with it now, so…”

“So you still have space. Count me in,” Brick said.

Blossom and Harry both looked at him like he’d suggested they all go jump in the lake.

“You want to go skiing in Tahoe?” Blossom asked.

Brick shrugged. “Sure, if it means a weekend away from my idiot brothers. Thanks for the invite, Harry.”

Harry gaped, and Blossom ceased pulling at her ponytail to stare at Brick.

“I mean,” Harry said, and nodded super obviously towards Blossom while she wasn’t looking.

“How many others could we invite?” Blossom asked. “If it’s okay with your parents, I mean.”

Harry looked at Blossom, and then he looked at Brick, who sipped his beer like the oblivious, teenaged simpleton he one hundred percent was not. Giving up, Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his buzz cut. “There’s room for two more if you’re both going to be there.”

Blossom lit up. “How about Wes and Kim? Or Pablo and Hanout?”

Harry sat back in his chair and nursed his beer. “Yeah, fine, whatever you want.”

She was smiling now.

“Wes and Kim,” Brick said. “Pablo snores like a motherfucker.”

“That’s true,” Harry said forlornly.

“Well, either way,” Blossom said, clearly torn between telling them both off and the desire to finalize plans.

Brick got up. “Let us know what weekend. I’m free whenever.”

Pleasantly yet unsurprisingly, Blossom got up too. “Me too. Thanks Harry, this’ll be fun.” She smiled genuinely at him, and he returned it.

“Yeah, the best,” Harry said dejectedly.

Blossom followed Brick as he led her away from the main campsite along the shoreline in the direction of the drop-off.

“Okay, what was that?” she asked when they were away from the roar of the music and the campfires.

“What was what?” Brick asked. It was dark now, and the farther they wandered from the center of the party, the harder it was to see the shoreline as his eyes adjusted.

“You invited yourself to Harry’s. Are you even that close?”

He paused and looked at her. “Are you?”

Blossom clutched the ends of her jacket as she blinked up at him. “We’re friends,” she hedged. “He’s a nice guy.”

Brick smirked. “Uh-huh. Real nice.”

“What does that mean?”

“You tell me. Am I intruding?”

Blossom studied him through the gloom. She was close enough that he could smell her perfume, silken and subtle. “No,” she said at length. “There’s nothing to intrude on.”

He watched her walk along ahead of him, her long ponytail a bloody lash under the cover of night. He chucked his beer and went after her.

“This way,” he said, breaking from the shore and heading into the trees.

“Where are we going?” Blossom drew close. “It’s so dark tonight.”

“I think it’s a new moon. Here.” Brick found her hand so they wouldn’t get separated in the pitch black of the canopy.

Blossom’s hand was cool in his, and she slipped the other one around his arm as he walked deeper into the forest. The walk wasn’t far, and soon the trees thinned as they emerged onto the shore of the lake nearest to the precipice overlooking the valley below. Brick had set up his sleeping bag in the grass far away from the rabble where he could have the best view undisturbed.

“Wow.” Blossom approached the black waters, so still they reflected the night sky back flawlessly. Flurries of stars as far as the eye could see scattered above and below like snowflakes frozen in flight. The Milky Way ripped through the firmament, bleeding more stars clustered so closely together they glimmered ice-bright. “I feel like I just stepped into another world.”

Brick jammed his hands in his jeans pockets and drew up next to her. “Consequence of being away from all the city lights for a change.”

“Mm.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit as they watched the nightscape unfold above and upon the water. Brick’s eyes fully adjusted to the lambent starlight, but it was a cold light, and he wore only a thin, red hoodie to stave off the chill. Blossom noticed him shuffle beside her.

“Do you want my jacket?” she teased.

“Ha ha,” Brick groused. But it was fucking cold out here, now that she mentioned it. He had always been particularly sensitive to it in a way she wasn’t. “My sleeping bag should do the trick.”

They retreated to his makeshift camp, where Brick shimmied into his sleeping bag and Blossom sat on the mat next to him, perfectly at ease in the cold. She leaned back on her hands to admire the stars, content like she could watch them all night. Their gossamer light draped her like a veil, softening her edges and igniting her colors. Brick had the sudden urge to touch her, to prove she was no pearlescent dream, that the cold cornering him now was hers and not just the darkness.

“Why were you late tonight?” she asked out of the blue.

Brick lay back on the mat and looked up at the jeweled sky. “Finished the homework.”

Her laugh was as soft as the starlight, and she grinned at him over her shoulder. “Me too.”

Obviously. He wouldn’t put it past her. It didn’t matter, only, he didn’t want to have one more thing to worry about over the break while also spending way more time than usual around his brothers with nothing to keep their focus for eight hours of the day. But the knowledge seemed to please her, which was just as well.

“I told you I was coming tonight,” he said.

And yet, Boomer had blown up his phone texting him all evening wondering where the hell he was, why wasn’t he here yet, and didn’t he realize people were waiting for him? The last text was one he received when he’d touched down at the edge of the campsite and it was already dark: a candid picture of Blossom talking with Harry by a campfire, and she looked happy. Brick had not responded to it or to any of the other annoying texts. Kim had been more than happy to give him her chair the minute she saw him approaching.

“Here you are,” Blossom said, hushed and half-lidded.

Here we are.

Brick curled an arm under his head. “View’s better from down here.”

She worried her lip—did she even realize she did that? That he noticed?—but ultimately lay down next to him on the mat. “Oh, wow…”

The starscape shimmered far and above, and Brick began to pick out patterns in the cosmos. “There, Cassiopeia.” He pointed to a cluster of stars.

“You know your constellations?” she asked.

“A few.”

He could practically feel the aura of challenge she exuded like a pheromone.

“All right. Perseus,” she said.

Brick pointed to a long line of stars near Cassiopeia. “Right next to Andromeda.”

“That was a freebie to test the waters.”

Brick chuckled. “Sure.”

“Okay Star Lord, show me Gemini.”

Brick swept his hand south and west of Perseus to a pair of star lines facing each other. “A couple of gossipy bitches.”

She shoved him playfully, and he caught her with his free arm, pulling her close. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right. Next?”

“Let’s see… How about Leo?”

With one arm anchoring her to his side, Brick traced the patterns she called out with the other. Dead heroes and their monsters rose from glittering graves with every sweep of his fingers and kept them company in the dark.

She tugged at his sleeve as he searched for the elusive Pyxis constellation. “Hey, we should probably get back to the party.”

Brick let his hand drop. “Why?”

“Because we’ll be missed, obviously.”

He chuckled. “I bet someone’s missing you.”

Blossom rolled onto her side to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He’d taken her to breakfast. It wasn’t a date; he hadn’t technically asked, and she only came because she was hungry and didn’t want to go home yet. It was the first time he’d ever seen her cry—no, sob because of what some dumb girls said to her at a party. Just the normal high school bullshit, and she’d fallen apart. Breakfast was the fucking least he could do after the ignominy of seeing her like that. It just turned out that it wasn’t the last.

Too many breakfasts and long hours spent prepping for finals turned into expectation, expectation turned into anticipation, and anticipation became the new normal. They weren’t together no matter what rumors Bubbles and Robin started and stopped. They weren’t not together either, considering they usually were, in fact, together. It had only been a few months since she’d handed Butch his balls wrapped up in a pretty pink bow and left Brick speechless to behold her, a few months since he’d found her insecure and vulnerable on that rooftop and called her beautiful because she was, holy fuck she was, and so much more.

Blossom was old wounds that should have healed long ago, that he should never have opened again, but she was still so new and he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

She slipped her hand over the cover of his sleeping bag and curled her fingers in his shirt. “Brick,” she said in a voice full of galaxies and longing.

He’d always liked the sound of his own name, after all.

When he kissed her, she tasted like starlight, cold fire. He pulled her closer, kissed her deeper, a step into the unknown, but the unknown was where she was and she was everything. Her breath hitched and she opened for him, just like that day on the rooftop, but he didn’t look away this time and she kissed him back like it had been her idea all along. Chemical X crackled on their flushed skin as he rolled onto his back and brought her with him, her weight on his chest a warmth and a fantasy.

Blossom’s long bangs fanned his cheeks as she hovered above him and he held on to her. He dreamed she might fall back into the sea of stars and he would dive in after her should he let her go. He didn’t let her go.

“I don’t actually want to go to Tahoe,” Brick said.

She laughed, light as a moonbeam. “Neither do I.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulled her down again. “Good.”

She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around him.

xxx

No one took much notice when Blossom and Brick popped up at the campsite after a protracted absence. No one except Bubbles, who passed Butch her perfectly roasted marshmallow, which he wolfed down right off the stick without waiting for it to cool. She discreetly got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of Blossom leading Brick by the hand to a couple empty chairs near Wes and Kim. When Brick leaned back in his chair and put his arm around the back of Blossom’s so she could lean into him, Bubbles had to work very hard not to squeal.

Clearly, Boomer sending Brick that picture of Harry chatting up Blossom had had the intended outcome.

She fired off twenty pictures to Robin.

[Bubbles: Yearbook?? 👀]

Robin, who was on the other side of the large campfire with Buttercup, Julie, Mitch, and the Floyjoydson twins, spat out her beer when she saw the pictures.

Bubbles snickered to herself.

“What’re you so happy about?” Butch said halfway through a game of Chubby Bunny.

Bubbles poked his mallow-stuffed cheek and winked. “It’s a secret.”

He rolled his eyes and stuffed another marshmallow in his mouth. “Laaaaame.”

Bubbles stole another glance at Blossom and Brick. She was laughing at something Kim had said, and he turned to whisper something to her. Bubbles bit her lip to hide her smile.

“But not for long,” she sang to herself.

Boomer came up behind Blossom and Brick and threw his arms around them both, laughing and pulling them close. Brick didn’t even try to push him off.

Not for long at all.

xxx

Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my writing and are looking for more PPG/RRB content from me, please check out my ongoing multi-chapter over on AO3 called Beyond This Morning. 😊

#Blossick #Reds #Blossom #Brick #Bubbles #Buttercup #Butch #Boomer #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfiction #PPG #February Fic Prompts #ppg shook

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